A Missed Train in Venice

March 2025

Missing is a state of mind. Since leaving home for college, I’ve felt as though there’s always an empty space in my heart — a constant ache of missing. Sometimes it’s my family, sometimes friends, and other times just the little comforts of life back home. The truth about life is simple: wherever you go, whatever you do, you will always miss someone or something.

When I was in Milan, that feeling never went away. I missed people and places — one of the biggest being my friends from Richmond. Some of them had been away for a year, either studying abroad or taking time off. But one sunny day in Milan, I finally reunited with two of my best friends from Richmond, Muskan and Minh.

After a carefully curated Zoom call full of itinerary planning and countless text exchanges, the three of us found ourselves in Italy with a plan. We only had a weekend together, but we knew we needed an excursion outside of Milan. That’s how we decided on Venice — the beautiful, iconic city that felt perfect for our reunion.

And, to make it even better, it was carnival season. Venice was alive — bursting with people, costumes, and color. The crowds were overwhelming, but somehow, it felt magical. Even more than the city itself, it was the fact that the three of us were together again. In an unfamiliar place, our shared energy and familiarity turned the unknown into something that felt like home.

Missing is powerful. When you’re finally reunited with the people you’ve longed for, it doesn’t take long before it feels as though no time has passed at all. That’s how I feel when I go home, and that’s exactly how Venice felt — wandering the canals I had only seen in pictures, I couldn’t decide what was more surreal: the city or being together after over a year apart.

Carnevale di Venezia

Of course, we bickered in the way only close friends do — Minh snapping too many pictures, Muskan taking forever to strike the perfect pose, and me rolling my eyes at our collective tourist energy. Yet between the teasing, we managed to see every Venice landmark you could imagine. At one point we stumbled into a charming restaurant, Taverna San Lio, where I ordered (as usual) seafood spaghetti, Minh chose truffle pasta, and Muskan went for mussels. In my very meticulous ranking of seafood spaghetti across Italy, this dish proudly claimed the Number 2 spot — quite an achievement, considering how much spaghetti I had devoured that semester. Another entry for the long list of things I’d one day “miss.”

Taverna San Lio, Venice

But, as they say, an adventure isn’t an adventure if everything goes according to plan. And as much as I try to resist this truth as a meticulous planner, sometimes life leaves you no choice but to surrender.

After a day of sights, food, and laughter, it was time to return to Milan. With our train scheduled to leave in 40 minutes, we set out for what should have been a leisurely 20-minute walk to the station. But Venice had other plans. The “road” we needed to cross was actually a canal — one without a bridge. The only option was a water taxi, and the long queue immediately made us nervous.

We weren’t ready to give up. Once we crossed, we decided we would run. Sprinting through the narrow alleyways of Venice, one of us shouting directions and the others following, we charged toward the station with pure determination. I never imagined myself running through Venice, but there we were — three girls racing against time.

Here’s the irony of life: when you’re early, trains are always late. But when you’re late? They leave right on schedule. At 7:38 p.m., we reached our platform, breathless but hopeful, only to watch our train pull away at 7:40 p.m.

We did eventually make it back to Milan that night, though not without stress and about 150 extra euros spent. But as I stood there in Venice, staring at the empty track where our train had been, I realized that not all “missings” are disastrous. Missing a train felt frustrating, yes, but it also gave me perspective. What mattered most wasn’t that we missed our ride — it was that I had missed my friends, and now, I didn’t have to. With them by my side again, even a missed train had nothing on us.