Heart Set on Venice

"It actually all began when he offered to tutor me in Italian for my exams,” Georgina remembers, laughing. “Little did I know, he couldn’t speak a word.” Equal parts charming and absurd, it was this gesture that set the tone for what would become a life-long love. Georgina was seventeen, deep in study mode while Hugh, even at eighteen, already had a gift for finding ways to make her laugh. At night, he worked at Sydney’s infamous Greenwood Hotel, allowing Georgina and her friends to skip the line, waving them through with a conspiratorial grin and ferrying them home again (always, Georgina tells me, past a McDonald’s). “Those early days were full of fun and a kind of ease that made everything feel effortless,” she says. “Looking back now, it feels like the perfect mix of young love, serendipity, and a little cheeky charm.”

Sixteen years later and they are still inseparable. Together, they’ve weathered the shifts of young adulthood — universities, first jobs, first homes and long-haul flights that carried them across summers and continents. Today, they live in Mosman, Sydney, raising their two young sons who keep them firmly grounded in the present. “It’s been a wonderful ride,” Georgina says. “From being high school sweethearts to building a family we’re so proud of.”

“It’s been a wonderful ride, from being high school sweethearts to building a family we’re so proud of.”

The proposal came on a trip to Italy when the pair decided to visit Cordignano, the village that Georgina’s Nonna had once called home. Hugh had been carrying the ring in a sock for the whole trip, waiting for the right moment. His plan was perfect: a candlelit dinner in a vineyard. But when the day came, the vineyard’s owner never arrived, leaving Hugh stranded. Nimbly, he pivoted, deciding to propose over breakfast instead, even setting up his phone to capture the moment on film. “He got about two words out before I realised what was happening,” Georgina tells me. “The rest was a blur, culminating in a very happy yes.”

Very quickly, Venice was decided on as the destination for their dream wedding. They imagined arriving at a baroque church, guests ferried by wooden boats through the canals, dinner unfolding in a grand palazzo. It was to be a wedding that honoured Georgina’s Italian heritage, rooted in memory and place. “I wanted to honour my Nonna,” she says. “To share that connection with the people closest to us.”

The pandemic, unfortunately, intervened. And so, their 2020 wedding was postponed and replaced by a small civil ceremony in Mosman with just fourteen family members, followed by a long lunch overlooking Balmoral. “It was simple, heartfelt and honestly perfect,” Georgina reflects. “I wouldn’t change a thing.” But the dream of Venice endured.

Two years later, after much persistence and planning, the couple finally arrived at Santa Maria del Giglio. “Walking toward the church with my parents on each arm, the butterflies finally hit,” Georgina says. “After years of postponement, it was happening.” Their planner, Irene Moressa, had guided them through the labyrinth of rescheduling, rebooking and reinvention. “I like to say I planned three weddings,” Georgina admits, “but Irene was our secret weapon. She turned every hurdle into something even more beautiful.”

The service was exquisitely beautiful, solemn and suffused with centuries of history. Afterwards, a flotilla of boats carried the couple and their guests through the canals. “One of my favourite moments was looking back at our family and friends, laughing and waving from their boats. It was surreal — like a scene from a fairytale.”

For the reception, Palazzo Zeno, with its frescoed ceilings and gilded walls, set an ornate stage where cocktail hour spilled into the Palazzo’s hydrangea-filled gardens. Prosecco was poured and guests lingered in the soft Venetian light. Inside, a single long table stretched through the dining room, its length dressed with white roses and candlelight — an elegant restraint against the richness of the room itself. Dinner, created by La Dogaressa, unfolded in courses that celebrated Venetian tradition: delicate crudo from the lagoon, handmade pastas, roasted meats, and wines from the Veneto hills. “The room itself carried so much beauty,” Georgina says. “We just wanted to complement it, not overwhelm it.” Speeches laced with feeling set an emotional tone between courses, while the sound of clinking glasses rose to the frescoes above.

Later, the music shifted the rhythm. A saxophonist threaded his notes through the hall, before the DJ drew the guests to the dance floor. Georgina and Hugh took their first dance to Tina Turner’s Simply the Best before the night spilled into celebration, the palazzo alive with movement and sound.

Georgina wore Monique Lhuillier — a full-bodied gown with a sweeping satin bow. Her mother’s pearl earrings framed her face and Manolo Blahniks carried her across the marble and mosaic. Hugh wore REMY tailoring in a suit that carried a classic, quiet elegance. Together, they looked perfectly themselves and undeniably timeless.

Looking back now, Georgina speaks with gratitude for both weddings: the intimacy of the backyard ceremony and the splendour of Venice. “Mosman reminded us of what truly matters: family, intimacy, the essence of it all. Venice was the dream, the magic, made sweeter by everything we’d been through to get there.”

Sixteen years on, she still calls Hugh her best friend. “It’s not just the big milestones,” she says. “It’s the little things — the mornings, the laughter, the jokes only we understand. He still makes me laugh.” Watching him as a father now, she adds, is perhaps the greatest joy of all. “I hope our boys grow up to be just like him — kind, loyal, full of heart.”

From teenage bravado to Venetian splendour, from study notes to solemn vows, the story of Georgina and Hugh has, it seems, always been about finding ease, even when the path carries some unexpected hurdles. A love that is at once playful and profound and for them — even after all these years — still feels like home.