Happy Halloween Venice! Woke up to a chilly grey day. Got the standard boring morning shite done (washed some socks), and just as I stepped out to start the long trek to the bus, it started to rain. Hooray. Back in for my mighty NF jacket. I was currently umbrella-less as my Barcelona Gypsy Umbrella had died in Verona.
Getting off the bus, it started to rain in earnest. I bought a brand-new five euro crappy umbrella from a vendor and started off. Once again, no plan. No directions, and instantly lost. And really about as happy as yesterday, but not quite as happy, because it was fucking pouring and pretty damn cold. After a while I took refuge in a coffee bar, because I had to pee and public toilets in Venice cost a euro fucking fifty. I worked out a system though, that when I started to feel the urge, I would set about finding the most casual bar around and pay 2 euro for an espresso, which would grant me the privilege of also using the toilet there. (Two euro for an espresso is redic, btw; it's ONE euro freaking everywhere else in Europe.) In Italy they hate it when you order an espresso and then sit down. Espressos are to be taken like shots while standing at the bar, in-out, four minutes or less. But to hell with you and your overexpensive coffee, I sat and wrote postcards, hoping in foolish vain that the rain might actually stop. It did not.
There are many disadvantages to traveling by yourself, but one undeniable advantage is that you can do whatever the fuck you want. And as I wandered Venice's alleys and vias and bridges, staring in increasing longing at all the pretty things behind glass, I sort of came to the strange and uncomfortable conclusion that what I wanted to do on this rainy Halloween in Venice was... Shop.
What the hell?
I hate shopping. I haven't shopped for anything this whole trip besides conditioner and leggings. (And food and stuff of course, but that hardly counts.) There were... museums, and churches, and stuff to see. But even in the cold rain, sequestering myself away in a museum held no appeal. Instead I decided that today was the day I would buy myself that One Thing -- the one souvenir I was going to allow myself to remember my trip. And suddenly I wanted that one thing to be a Murano glass necklace from Venice. So started the hunt.
This was going to be my One Thing, so naturally it had to be perfect. Beautiful, me, classic, and under 50 euros. I went in and out of what had to be two dozen different shops of varying prices and quality, searching for this one necklace. I spent hours doing this. Anyone on the planet would have killed me 14 shops ago. (I would have certainly done the same had our imaginary positions been reversed.) But I was all alone, and if I wanted to spend this rainy day in Venice setting down my dripping umbrella at doorway after doorway for a long or cursory glance at yet more and more strings of brightly colored glass beads, dammit if that was not what I was going to do. I bought a couple Christmas presents during the course of the day, but my own perfect prize kept slipping out of reach.
The funny thing is, when I finally found what I was looking for, I knew it immediately, and the whole transaction took less than five minutes. I saw this gorgeous blue-and-gold bead necklace in a shop window and ducked in at once. Asked to see it, held it a second, then nodded and said, "Si, okay." The woman was surprised but pleased at the quickness of my decision, but took my Visa happily enough. After I complimented her on the beautiful things in her shop, she smiled and waved her hand around. "I make," she said proudly. "All." Could not have been more perfect.
It was time to find the train station and get the shuttle home. I had a date with Sofie for another camp restaurant dinner before we planned to join the bar's Halloween party at 10:00. A welcome change from yesterday, this time I was able to find the station without a problem, but as I made my way there the weather decided to show me that all the rain up until now had just been playing.
The wind whipped up and drove the downpour sideways. My umbrella was inside out more often than not. My rain jacket thankfully kept my core dry, but my pants soon looked like they had come out of the washing machine. I was, from head to foot, drenched. Drenched, dripping, freezing, and very, very unhappy.
It was a squelchy ride home. I only thanked God that the camp's shuttle appeared at the appointed time, because navigating public transport at that point, not to mention the long walk back to the camp, might have driven me over the edge of polite society.
Finally home, I met up with Sofie, changed my pants, and we headed out for dinner. I had linguine with a mushroom cream sauce that was surprisingly good. After dinner, out waitress came by with little Halloween chocolates for us.
The bar area was all decorated for Halloween, but besides us, it seemed that the only other partygoers were the group of 40+ French teenagers. Unimpressed. Sofie and I ordered wine and played cards. But soon enough other adults showed up and we started having a pretty good time. Lots of people had bought Venetian masks for the occasion, and I got to try a few of them on. :)
Right as the party was ramping up... the campsite lost power because of the storm and they shut everything down!! Sofie and I invited a few people back to our bungalow, but the only one to take us up on it was a cool guy named Gabriel. Home, I pulled out my little travel-sized lantern and we chatted and drank wine until pretty late.
Next morning, I woke up at 7:00 because that was when Sofie was getting up to catch a train. We said our goodbyes... and then I realized that her 20-year old self had puked red wine all over the toilet and its environs at some point, and had not cleaned it up. So I'm afraid that rather... soured my feelings on our friendship. Maybe that fantasy hostel age limit just really shouldn't be waived, ever.
So I cleaned up the bathroom and then the rest of the cabin as much as I could. It was a real mess, with cups and bottles, and mud and leaves (and flakes of black paint from Gabriel's costume) everywhere. Yeah, I could have waited for the cleaning crew I guess, but they hadn't been impressing me thus far and I really didn't want to hang out in a bungalow full of puke and mess for the next three or four hours. Finally I went back to bed... and was woken up half an hour later by my new roommates!! BOTH of them. I was pissed, because like I mentioned, these bungalows were not big enough for three people, plus it was 10:45. Check-in was supposed to be at 2:00. Why the hell were these jokers waking me up?
They did leave pretty quickly, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again. Got up and saw another angry grey day and a light rain. Decided I was going to have a quiet day in and not fight with getting in and out of the city. I was pretty sure Venice would be underwater after all the rain, and while there was a slightly macabre side to me that thought that'd be neat to see, mostly I just figured it would be really... wet. Wet, and inconvenient. I was behind on both my blog and my journal, and thought that this would be a great chance to catch up. I logged on to the wi-fi.... and it was not working. SWELL. There went my ability to do the one thing I most wanted to get done that day.
I don't think I need to recount all the details of this stupid, frustrating non-starter of a day. The internet never got fixed despite multiple promises, the French teenagers were annoying, and after waiting half an hour for a table at dinner (because of the French teenagers taking up fully half the dining room), I caught the waitress out about to give my table to another couple. You want to know one way to piss me off pretty instantaneously? Act like I'm somehow a second-class citizen because I happen to be traveling alone.
Also had this frustrating little vignette occur at dinner. I ordered fried calamari, and when it came I asked for a small bowl of marinara. This is how my conversation went.
Me: "Scusi, can I please have some marinara sauce with this?"
Waitress: "Ketchup? Mayonnaise?"
Me: (Smiling now) "No. Marinara. You know, the sauce you put on pizza. Could I get a bowl of that?"
Her: (Slowly) "...Sorry, no..."
Me: (Still smiling) "Why Not???"
So she looks at me a second, goes off, and returns almost immediately with a small bowl of marinara. Why on earth did that have to be so hard? Why did I have to bare the teeth of my inner bitch when obviously putting marinara in a bowl was hardly beyond their capabilities? Sometimes I miss the hell out of American service.
And that was supposed to be my last day in Venice. Suffice to say I did not feel at all like I was ready to leave. I woke up on the morning I had to check out, kicking myself and really just so pissed I hadn't gone into the city the day before. After about 11:00, it never even ended up raining. And now, the day I was leaving, it was beautiful.
I checked the train times to Florence (now that the internet was working) and found out that the one cheap train of the day didn't leave until 6:30 this evening. Huh, I thought. What if I just store my bag at the train station and then walk around Venice one more time?
Sometimes, I have really bad ideas. And sometimes, I have amazing flashes of brilliance.
I took the bus in, stashed my bag at the Left Luggage drop, and once more set out for an afternoon of happy, aimless, mostly-lost wandering. Went into a few churches.
In a tiny little nondescript byway, I found a tiny little cafe that had glasses of prosecco for only 2 euro!! That is good for even not Venice! So I sat and enjoyed an early dinner.
It was a beautiful afternoon, and I felt so glad I had taken these extra few hours in this amazing city! It made it just a little easier to say my farewells and board my train back down to Tuscany.
Venice was unquestionably my favorite city so far on my trip, moreso even than Paris or Barcelona. I just loved it. And I want to go back. Next time, though, no silly campsites an hour away! If ever you are to splurge on anything, let it be Venice. Myself, I'm thinking a quiet little boutique hotel right on one of the little side canals, with its own private balcony. Someday, I will come back and do Venice right!
Getting off the bus, it started to rain in earnest. I bought a brand-new five euro crappy umbrella from a vendor and started off. Once again, no plan. No directions, and instantly lost. And really about as happy as yesterday, but not quite as happy, because it was fucking pouring and pretty damn cold. After a while I took refuge in a coffee bar, because I had to pee and public toilets in Venice cost a euro fucking fifty. I worked out a system though, that when I started to feel the urge, I would set about finding the most casual bar around and pay 2 euro for an espresso, which would grant me the privilege of also using the toilet there. (Two euro for an espresso is redic, btw; it's ONE euro freaking everywhere else in Europe.) In Italy they hate it when you order an espresso and then sit down. Espressos are to be taken like shots while standing at the bar, in-out, four minutes or less. But to hell with you and your overexpensive coffee, I sat and wrote postcards, hoping in foolish vain that the rain might actually stop. It did not.
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| Venice in the rain. |
What the hell?
I hate shopping. I haven't shopped for anything this whole trip besides conditioner and leggings. (And food and stuff of course, but that hardly counts.) There were... museums, and churches, and stuff to see. But even in the cold rain, sequestering myself away in a museum held no appeal. Instead I decided that today was the day I would buy myself that One Thing -- the one souvenir I was going to allow myself to remember my trip. And suddenly I wanted that one thing to be a Murano glass necklace from Venice. So started the hunt.
This was going to be my One Thing, so naturally it had to be perfect. Beautiful, me, classic, and under 50 euros. I went in and out of what had to be two dozen different shops of varying prices and quality, searching for this one necklace. I spent hours doing this. Anyone on the planet would have killed me 14 shops ago. (I would have certainly done the same had our imaginary positions been reversed.) But I was all alone, and if I wanted to spend this rainy day in Venice setting down my dripping umbrella at doorway after doorway for a long or cursory glance at yet more and more strings of brightly colored glass beads, dammit if that was not what I was going to do. I bought a couple Christmas presents during the course of the day, but my own perfect prize kept slipping out of reach.
The funny thing is, when I finally found what I was looking for, I knew it immediately, and the whole transaction took less than five minutes. I saw this gorgeous blue-and-gold bead necklace in a shop window and ducked in at once. Asked to see it, held it a second, then nodded and said, "Si, okay." The woman was surprised but pleased at the quickness of my decision, but took my Visa happily enough. After I complimented her on the beautiful things in her shop, she smiled and waved her hand around. "I make," she said proudly. "All." Could not have been more perfect.
It was time to find the train station and get the shuttle home. I had a date with Sofie for another camp restaurant dinner before we planned to join the bar's Halloween party at 10:00. A welcome change from yesterday, this time I was able to find the station without a problem, but as I made my way there the weather decided to show me that all the rain up until now had just been playing.
The wind whipped up and drove the downpour sideways. My umbrella was inside out more often than not. My rain jacket thankfully kept my core dry, but my pants soon looked like they had come out of the washing machine. I was, from head to foot, drenched. Drenched, dripping, freezing, and very, very unhappy.
It was a squelchy ride home. I only thanked God that the camp's shuttle appeared at the appointed time, because navigating public transport at that point, not to mention the long walk back to the camp, might have driven me over the edge of polite society.
Finally home, I met up with Sofie, changed my pants, and we headed out for dinner. I had linguine with a mushroom cream sauce that was surprisingly good. After dinner, out waitress came by with little Halloween chocolates for us.
 |
| Sofie with our party favors. |
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| How does one go about getting something like that home in one piece? |
Next morning, I woke up at 7:00 because that was when Sofie was getting up to catch a train. We said our goodbyes... and then I realized that her 20-year old self had puked red wine all over the toilet and its environs at some point, and had not cleaned it up. So I'm afraid that rather... soured my feelings on our friendship. Maybe that fantasy hostel age limit just really shouldn't be waived, ever.
So I cleaned up the bathroom and then the rest of the cabin as much as I could. It was a real mess, with cups and bottles, and mud and leaves (and flakes of black paint from Gabriel's costume) everywhere. Yeah, I could have waited for the cleaning crew I guess, but they hadn't been impressing me thus far and I really didn't want to hang out in a bungalow full of puke and mess for the next three or four hours. Finally I went back to bed... and was woken up half an hour later by my new roommates!! BOTH of them. I was pissed, because like I mentioned, these bungalows were not big enough for three people, plus it was 10:45. Check-in was supposed to be at 2:00. Why the hell were these jokers waking me up?
They did leave pretty quickly, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again. Got up and saw another angry grey day and a light rain. Decided I was going to have a quiet day in and not fight with getting in and out of the city. I was pretty sure Venice would be underwater after all the rain, and while there was a slightly macabre side to me that thought that'd be neat to see, mostly I just figured it would be really... wet. Wet, and inconvenient. I was behind on both my blog and my journal, and thought that this would be a great chance to catch up. I logged on to the wi-fi.... and it was not working. SWELL. There went my ability to do the one thing I most wanted to get done that day.
I don't think I need to recount all the details of this stupid, frustrating non-starter of a day. The internet never got fixed despite multiple promises, the French teenagers were annoying, and after waiting half an hour for a table at dinner (because of the French teenagers taking up fully half the dining room), I caught the waitress out about to give my table to another couple. You want to know one way to piss me off pretty instantaneously? Act like I'm somehow a second-class citizen because I happen to be traveling alone.
Also had this frustrating little vignette occur at dinner. I ordered fried calamari, and when it came I asked for a small bowl of marinara. This is how my conversation went.
Me: "Scusi, can I please have some marinara sauce with this?"
Waitress: "Ketchup? Mayonnaise?"
Me: (Smiling now) "No. Marinara. You know, the sauce you put on pizza. Could I get a bowl of that?"
Her: (Slowly) "...Sorry, no..."
Me: (Still smiling) "Why Not???"
So she looks at me a second, goes off, and returns almost immediately with a small bowl of marinara. Why on earth did that have to be so hard? Why did I have to bare the teeth of my inner bitch when obviously putting marinara in a bowl was hardly beyond their capabilities? Sometimes I miss the hell out of American service.
And that was supposed to be my last day in Venice. Suffice to say I did not feel at all like I was ready to leave. I woke up on the morning I had to check out, kicking myself and really just so pissed I hadn't gone into the city the day before. After about 11:00, it never even ended up raining. And now, the day I was leaving, it was beautiful.
I checked the train times to Florence (now that the internet was working) and found out that the one cheap train of the day didn't leave until 6:30 this evening. Huh, I thought. What if I just store my bag at the train station and then walk around Venice one more time?
Sometimes, I have really bad ideas. And sometimes, I have amazing flashes of brilliance.
I took the bus in, stashed my bag at the Left Luggage drop, and once more set out for an afternoon of happy, aimless, mostly-lost wandering. Went into a few churches.
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| San Someone |
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| This was the small plate of mixed meats and cheeses! |
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| Right around the corner from my restaurant. |
Venice was unquestionably my favorite city so far on my trip, moreso even than Paris or Barcelona. I just loved it. And I want to go back. Next time, though, no silly campsites an hour away! If ever you are to splurge on anything, let it be Venice. Myself, I'm thinking a quiet little boutique hotel right on one of the little side canals, with its own private balcony. Someday, I will come back and do Venice right!
 |
| Arrivederci, Venezia |
If I ever travel, I'm so going to use you to plan my trip so I get the best experience from your life lessons.
ReplyDeleteNo pictures of the perfect necklace?
ReplyDeleteI was thinking as I posted that I should upload a photo! I'll put one up in the next post or two. :)
DeleteLove. It!
ReplyDeleteYes, everything is a little bit expensive in Venice, but it's worth. I hope if you come next time, you will enjoy it more, with more sunshine.
ReplyDelete