To tell the truth, I was a little worried about Venice.
Touristy, expensive, chintzy, with labyrinthine streets just begging you to get lost. I recalled watching Katharine Hepburn's "Summertime" with my parents when I was little, and remember that I thought the city seemed very... foreign. Strange and confusing. Add in a bajillion tourists, and prices so high I couldn't even justify booking accommodation on the island(s) itself... As always, I wasn't sure what to expect but I had a feeling Venice just was not going to live up to its hype.
I stepped out of the train station and saw this:
I kind of drifted across the bustling pedestrian street to the edge of the Grand Canal. And stared. Stared some more. And I knew in one-tenth of a second that Venice was not, actually, going to let me down at all. Hype? What hype? This was Venice. Venice concerns itself not with such trivialities It was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. I fell in love, immediately and unconditionally.
But before I could surrender myself to the precocious whims of my new love, I had first to find my hostel, which this time around had taken the form of a campsite on the mainland. Smack in the Venetian suburbs. Try as I might, I had not been able to find a hostel for less than 30 euro, and these with questionable reviews. I knew I in no way wanted to stay so far away from the city, but this campsite proudly advertised a private shuttle that ran every hour, so I'd decided to risk it in the name of frugality.
I arrived at the designated Shuttle Point exactly in time to see the "Plus Camping Jolly" shuttle pulling gamely away. I sighed, set Sisyphus down, and pulled out my kindle to wait out the hour. At least I didn't have to pee.
Plus Camping Jolly, at first sight, isn't bad. It would be a bomb place to stay in the summer due to their massive outdoor pool. Not so much good in October/November though. The reception staff here was not the best, and the first room they gave me (a triple) already had two girls inside, leaving me with this highly ridiculous loft bed over the freaking desk, and not enough room to move, let alone put my pack down. I went back, politely-but-firmly requested another room, and they put me into a new bungalow with no one else in it. WTF? Why stuff people into rooms way too small for three fully grown adults when there are empty cabins free??? Well, whatever.
I headed over to the camp's restaurant/bar and had what turned out to be a very nice dinner. Splurged a little on a green salad (a bowl of lettuce, learn about salad Europe), and half a small roast chicken prepared with rosemary and garlic. The chicken was amazing. I have not been getting nearly enough vitamins and lean protein on this trip! After dinner, I bought a bottle of wine and headed back to my bungalow. I had acquired a roommate, a very cool girl from Denmark named Sofie. We hit it off and shared my bottle of wine, having a good long conversation before calling it a night.
I woke up the next day very excited to get in and see Venice. But circumstances being what they were, I didn't get out until the early afternoon. Skyped with my sister, had a couple conversations with various other people drifting around. Finally it got so late I decided to have lunch at the camp's bar. And then I discovered that the "hourly shuttle" did not, in fact, run on the hour as advertised, and the next one wasn't until 3:00. Balls to that. So I walked 20 minutes to the public bus stop. Door-to-door, just under an hour into Venice. It would appear that getting in and out of Venice would be more difficult than I had been let to believe.
But then I got there, and couldn't be bothered about that or much of anything else. I had just received some pretty incredible and unexpected news, and it was coloring my day in thousands of little prizmed joy-facets. With no real plan for my afternoon, I set out to wander the breathtaking streets of this weird, amazing water-city, all the time halfheartedly following the various signs pointing me to San Marco. I definitely did not expect the sheer number of canals that snake their way all through the city. There are hundreds of them, turning the city into a honeycomb.
Yes, of course Venice was touristy. Crowded and touristy. But for some unfathomable reason, it wasn't bothering me here. I moved through the narrow alleys and over bridges, running the constant gauntlet around Italians and tourists alike, all the time just so incredibly and unreasonably happy. I didn't mind the striped-shirted gondoliers calling out to me to take a 120 euro ride. I wasn't irritated by the couples with enormous baby strollers, by other couples making out and blocking the entire alley (okay, that last pissed me off just a little, for a second.)
I don't think I can really explain it. Venice is just... Venice. It is unlike any city in the world. It is just, simply, beautiful. Some people say Venice stinks. I didn't think so. I thought Venice smelled like water, and I love the smell of water. Some people say Venice is crumbling, falling apart, depressing. I saw old buildings aplenty, but they were very much still standing, resolutely patient in their lost-age stately grandeur. Rather than being depressed, I can't remember a time when I was so un-directionally happy to just walk. Calm, chill, a vague smile on my face. Some people say tourists have ruined it. Well, there sure were a lot of them, but step off the much-traveled pathways to Rialto and San Marco, and you find adorable pizzarias full of Italians shouting at each other while their kids run around underfoot. Venice IS expensive. There unfortunately is no way around that. But again, if you avoid the tourist pathways the prices become a lot friendlier.
One of the best things about Venice? Vin brulee.
As I was meandering, I happened to pass a tiny takeaway cafe that was offering vin brulee, or "hot wine" for 2 euro. Thinking it would be only a taste but willing to ride a little spontaneous mini-splurge, I asked for one. What I got was a small plastic cup, filled utterly to the top, with mulled wine. Can you just take a second, close your eyes, and imagine how incredibly stupid awesome it is to be wandering around Venice on a sunny, cool autumn afternoon, sipping mulled wine at your leisure? And I saw these little mulled wine offerings all over!! You better believe I got another one.
After about an hour of wandering, I finally came up on San Marco's Square.
It will surprise no one that the line to get into San Marco's was epic, and it will also probably surprise no one that I did not go in. Odd truth about my Venice experience -- I found I wanted to be out, wandering, constantly. With the canals and alleys and masks and Murano glass shops. I did not end up visiting a single museum in Venice, and only a very few churches. But I had an utterly wonderful time.
I walked along the Grand Canal for a while, ogling all the crazy gondoliers and this strange boat culture. Even DHL had a boat!!
And then I decided to start my wanderings back toward the train station, as I had reserved a space on the 7:30 shuttle back to the camp. I started out, with utterly no freaking clue where I was but feeling (for some reason) that I was moving sort of gradually ever-closer to my goal.
Finally, after about 40 minutes, I decided to check my map. Bet you can't guess where I was.
In Venice, there is one specific point, and that is where the train station lives. There is also another point, about the very furthest one can be from the train station and not actually be swimming, and that was the point I was currently at.
Fuuuuck.
All roads may lead to Rome, but in Venice, all roads lead to San Marco's. There are signs with arrows everywhere, even though they do sometimes look like this:
After my most recent directional fiasco, I had completely no confidence in my ability to navigate across the entirety of the city and make it back in time for my shuttle. So, once again I followed arrows to San Marco's where I bought a seven euro ticket for a waterbus, and that transportational splurge meant I once again had a little time for exploring before getting on the boat. I walked around the square, which of course is unbelievable at night.
But you know what else is unbelievable about San Marco's? The prices. I had to pee, so decided I'd pick the most modest-looking cafe I could find, and get a cheap drink which would grant me the privilege of sitting down and also of using their toilet. I went into this tiny little place, but all the listed prices were for takeaway only. You want to know how much the price inflated for the honor of sitting at a table in their (totally fucking empty) outdoor space? Double. DOUBLE. This means that one already-expensive beer will supernova to the truly unheard-of price of EIGHT FUCKING EUROS. Simply because you were sitting at a table on San Marco's Square. And I didn't even bother to ask if there was also a "coperta", or table charge. There often is. Bugger the fuck out of that.
I used their bathroom with the promise that I would buy something when I came out, then got another cup of vin brulee (3.50 instead of 2 euros, thank you San Marco, and also one of the cheapest things they offered), and went and sat on a public bench for free.
I'd promised my father I would take at least one boat ride in Venice, so this waterbus was going to be it. It actually ended up being 45 minutes long, and I spent all of that standing up front in the open air, taking in all the sights I could, rather than sitting in the back half, warm behind plexiglass. A pretty decent ride, if not the most luxurious Venice might have to offer.
One waterbus and shuttle later, I was once again back at Camping Jolly, where I met up with Sofie and we decided to go get pizza together. Sofie was 20, so I felt kind of like an aunt trying just a little too hard to be cool around her, but we honestly did hit it off pretty well. She was pretty smart and damn funny for a 20-year-old. After dinner, we repaired to the bar and shared two bottles of rose. I probably would waive the 25-and-up rule for Sofie if she ever wanted to stay in my fantasy hostel.
And the next day was Halloween.
Touristy, expensive, chintzy, with labyrinthine streets just begging you to get lost. I recalled watching Katharine Hepburn's "Summertime" with my parents when I was little, and remember that I thought the city seemed very... foreign. Strange and confusing. Add in a bajillion tourists, and prices so high I couldn't even justify booking accommodation on the island(s) itself... As always, I wasn't sure what to expect but I had a feeling Venice just was not going to live up to its hype.
I stepped out of the train station and saw this:
I kind of drifted across the bustling pedestrian street to the edge of the Grand Canal. And stared. Stared some more. And I knew in one-tenth of a second that Venice was not, actually, going to let me down at all. Hype? What hype? This was Venice. Venice concerns itself not with such trivialities It was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. I fell in love, immediately and unconditionally.
But before I could surrender myself to the precocious whims of my new love, I had first to find my hostel, which this time around had taken the form of a campsite on the mainland. Smack in the Venetian suburbs. Try as I might, I had not been able to find a hostel for less than 30 euro, and these with questionable reviews. I knew I in no way wanted to stay so far away from the city, but this campsite proudly advertised a private shuttle that ran every hour, so I'd decided to risk it in the name of frugality.
I arrived at the designated Shuttle Point exactly in time to see the "Plus Camping Jolly" shuttle pulling gamely away. I sighed, set Sisyphus down, and pulled out my kindle to wait out the hour. At least I didn't have to pee.
Plus Camping Jolly, at first sight, isn't bad. It would be a bomb place to stay in the summer due to their massive outdoor pool. Not so much good in October/November though. The reception staff here was not the best, and the first room they gave me (a triple) already had two girls inside, leaving me with this highly ridiculous loft bed over the freaking desk, and not enough room to move, let alone put my pack down. I went back, politely-but-firmly requested another room, and they put me into a new bungalow with no one else in it. WTF? Why stuff people into rooms way too small for three fully grown adults when there are empty cabins free??? Well, whatever.
I headed over to the camp's restaurant/bar and had what turned out to be a very nice dinner. Splurged a little on a green salad (a bowl of lettuce, learn about salad Europe), and half a small roast chicken prepared with rosemary and garlic. The chicken was amazing. I have not been getting nearly enough vitamins and lean protein on this trip! After dinner, I bought a bottle of wine and headed back to my bungalow. I had acquired a roommate, a very cool girl from Denmark named Sofie. We hit it off and shared my bottle of wine, having a good long conversation before calling it a night.
I woke up the next day very excited to get in and see Venice. But circumstances being what they were, I didn't get out until the early afternoon. Skyped with my sister, had a couple conversations with various other people drifting around. Finally it got so late I decided to have lunch at the camp's bar. And then I discovered that the "hourly shuttle" did not, in fact, run on the hour as advertised, and the next one wasn't until 3:00. Balls to that. So I walked 20 minutes to the public bus stop. Door-to-door, just under an hour into Venice. It would appear that getting in and out of Venice would be more difficult than I had been let to believe.
But then I got there, and couldn't be bothered about that or much of anything else. I had just received some pretty incredible and unexpected news, and it was coloring my day in thousands of little prizmed joy-facets. With no real plan for my afternoon, I set out to wander the breathtaking streets of this weird, amazing water-city, all the time halfheartedly following the various signs pointing me to San Marco. I definitely did not expect the sheer number of canals that snake their way all through the city. There are hundreds of them, turning the city into a honeycomb.
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| Venice side street |
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| Road to nowhere, and fire in the water. I love Venice. |
I don't think I can really explain it. Venice is just... Venice. It is unlike any city in the world. It is just, simply, beautiful. Some people say Venice stinks. I didn't think so. I thought Venice smelled like water, and I love the smell of water. Some people say Venice is crumbling, falling apart, depressing. I saw old buildings aplenty, but they were very much still standing, resolutely patient in their lost-age stately grandeur. Rather than being depressed, I can't remember a time when I was so un-directionally happy to just walk. Calm, chill, a vague smile on my face. Some people say tourists have ruined it. Well, there sure were a lot of them, but step off the much-traveled pathways to Rialto and San Marco, and you find adorable pizzarias full of Italians shouting at each other while their kids run around underfoot. Venice IS expensive. There unfortunately is no way around that. But again, if you avoid the tourist pathways the prices become a lot friendlier.
One of the best things about Venice? Vin brulee.
As I was meandering, I happened to pass a tiny takeaway cafe that was offering vin brulee, or "hot wine" for 2 euro. Thinking it would be only a taste but willing to ride a little spontaneous mini-splurge, I asked for one. What I got was a small plastic cup, filled utterly to the top, with mulled wine. Can you just take a second, close your eyes, and imagine how incredibly stupid awesome it is to be wandering around Venice on a sunny, cool autumn afternoon, sipping mulled wine at your leisure? And I saw these little mulled wine offerings all over!! You better believe I got another one.
After about an hour of wandering, I finally came up on San Marco's Square.
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| San Marco's, sadly under partial restoration. |
I walked along the Grand Canal for a while, ogling all the crazy gondoliers and this strange boat culture. Even DHL had a boat!!
 |
| Utterly iconic. |
Finally, after about 40 minutes, I decided to check my map. Bet you can't guess where I was.
In Venice, there is one specific point, and that is where the train station lives. There is also another point, about the very furthest one can be from the train station and not actually be swimming, and that was the point I was currently at.
Fuuuuck.
All roads may lead to Rome, but in Venice, all roads lead to San Marco's. There are signs with arrows everywhere, even though they do sometimes look like this:
 |
| Italian directions at their best. |
But you know what else is unbelievable about San Marco's? The prices. I had to pee, so decided I'd pick the most modest-looking cafe I could find, and get a cheap drink which would grant me the privilege of sitting down and also of using their toilet. I went into this tiny little place, but all the listed prices were for takeaway only. You want to know how much the price inflated for the honor of sitting at a table in their (totally fucking empty) outdoor space? Double. DOUBLE. This means that one already-expensive beer will supernova to the truly unheard-of price of EIGHT FUCKING EUROS. Simply because you were sitting at a table on San Marco's Square. And I didn't even bother to ask if there was also a "coperta", or table charge. There often is. Bugger the fuck out of that.
I used their bathroom with the promise that I would buy something when I came out, then got another cup of vin brulee (3.50 instead of 2 euros, thank you San Marco, and also one of the cheapest things they offered), and went and sat on a public bench for free.
I'd promised my father I would take at least one boat ride in Venice, so this waterbus was going to be it. It actually ended up being 45 minutes long, and I spent all of that standing up front in the open air, taking in all the sights I could, rather than sitting in the back half, warm behind plexiglass. A pretty decent ride, if not the most luxurious Venice might have to offer.
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| Rialto Bridge by night |
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| I loved this one! Dark creepy horror-movie Venice. |
And the next day was Halloween.
I think your Venetian photos are the best of your trip thus far.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I can't take credit -- it was the model, not the artist. :)
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