Venice—Day 2—Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Well, we arrived in Venice at 9 this morning (that’s 2 am in the States) after having slept right around 30 minutes total on the 9-hr flight. We successfully gathered our luggage—this in itself was a major victory—and headed to catch a water bus. In America, we would have a shuttle going from the baggage claim to the vaparetto stop. Here in a land less lazy, you just walk the 8 minutes. This seems trivial until you’re pulling a 46-lb piece of luggage behind your already zombie-like body. The water bus is at least a scenic route from the Venice airport to the Venice of tourism; however, the slow pace and gentle rocking is the perfect recipe for falling asleep on your feet.
We got to our hotel around 11 am (4 am Stateside) in hopes of checking in. Hope is the operative word there, and ours went unrealized. We were able to check our luggage into a storage room, but our room wasn’t ready yet. At this point in the jet lag, the misery becomes almost laughable. You can’t help but be amused by your bad luck. We wandered around the streets of Venice, looping through the Piazza de San Marco more than once… and not on purpose, until we settled on a place to eat. Our number one prerequisite for our dining experience: peace and quiet. Apparently, the perfect weather here in Venice has drawn unseasonable crowds, and every sidewalk and alley is jam-packed. If you’ve ever experienced my road rage, you might appreciate that it translates on land. It seems no matter how desperate I was to get around the meanderers, there was always a wheelchair or goo-goo eyed couple taking their time just ahead. Everyone has the right to their own pace… I would just prefer that they take their pace out of my way.
At long last, we made our way back to our hotel where we were able to check email, take a much-needed nap, and shower before dinner. The built-in hair dryer in our bathroom is little more than a hose that leaks out warm air, so you can imagine that Mom and I are both having a fantastic hair day. You won’t have to imagine for long though, as it is evidenced in our pictures.
Showered, napped, and feeling much better, we headed out on the town once again. This time around, our mission was to find a traditional gondola ride at a less-than-traditional price (you wouldn’t believe the price for a 45-minute ride!). I tossed my blonde hair and smiled my best smile and may have even shown a little cleavage—which I’m not proud of… but am kind of proud of—and managed to shave 50 Euro off the price of a trip down the Grand Canal and through the tiny canals winding throughout the ancient city. It was basically the perfect way to view the city—relaxed in a boat with our feet propped up. I wish all sightseeing could go so well.
We had dinner on the Grand Canal, which was ripe for people watching. Having read that the city’s specialty dish was cuttlefish, Mom took the plunge. The waiter, Maurizio, repeated her order to her multiple times to make sure she knew what she was doing, but I suppose she just chalked it up to her Southern drawl needing clarification. Twenty minutes later, a plate of polenta cakes and squid was brought to our table… topped in “black sauce;” that is, sauce made from the ink of the cuttlefish. Mom muscled through a few bites like a champ, but I almost lost my appetite altogether as the pungent smell assaulted my nose.
It’s funny how it takes the Italians about 20 seconds to realize that they should be directing their conversation to me instead of Mom. I guess their initial reaction to us is to speak to the adult—the older adult—but they don’t get very far. Occasionally Mom will toss out a phrase like, “Mucho bueno!” and I just beg her to say no more. Even in the squid incident, the waiter smiled at me like we were in on some inside joke.
In sum, Venice was the perfect start to our Italian vacation. The weather was perfect and the sight-seeing wasn’t too intense for our sleep-deprived bodies and minds. Everything seemed to come together perfectly with few exceptions, namely our lack of air conditioning and jet lag preventing us from a full night of sleep. But now, on to Florence!
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