(FORTUNE Magazine) – Life has been too much, what with stockholders demanding instant gratification and house guests in Gstaad demanding instant champagne. While my fruit-loop CEO heads to a week of yoga in Costa Rica, I order the Lear to Venice. A Gritti Palace water taxi WHISKS me, within minutes, to my idea of nirvana.

Concierge Giovanni makes it clear that a day trip to Torcello is not in my best interest; Giuliano, a better man, supplies me with vaporetto schedules and restaurant reservations. On the terrace, I finally relax, aided by two Canalettos (a BEGUILING mix of fresh strawberry juice and Prosecco). As I eavesdrop on conversations in German, Japanese, and Italian--alas, you can't tune them out when you're fluent in all--I stare at Santa Maria della Salute and offer a grazie to Mary for halting the plague. By Canaletto No. 3, I find ENLIGHTENMENT. There are worse blights on the world than moneygrubbers and moochers, and few places finer than the Gritti. Buona sera... THE LOBBYIST