Last summer, The New Yorker sent a staffer to Venice to cover the Venice Film Festival.
There is a film festival in Venice.
The Film Festival was in Finland.
A old man sits in a mass-transit vehicle.
Runners have finished a race.
The construction workers are on the grass eating sandwiches as they work.
The man is working the vegetable stand.
I remember it perfectly because I read it.
Since his stay in the village had been short, he couldn't identify the man.