Venice - bellisima!

The train rolls into estazione Santa Lucia, we walk through the typically gloomy reception area, out the doors, and there it is - Venice, the most beautiful city we can imagine, complete with romantic gondolas and mythical waterways, appearing like a color-saturated mirage.

I felt as if we were entering the real Land of Oz for art lovers. Crowds of clueless tourists blocked the passage over the Rialto Bridge (in Venice, etiquette requires those who wish to stare out at the Grand Canal stand pressed to the side, out of the way of those who wish to get somewhere, because bridges and boats are the ONLY way to cross from one island to the next). We made our way through the booths of bright trinkets and striped Gondolier shirts to our hotel, Albergo Guerrato.

As we climbed the stairs, I was happy to notice the smell of the local fish market evaporating. Like nearly every building in Venezia, the reception and breakfast room are located on the second floor; the first is only used as a landing, due to the ever-present threat of flooding. We were met by gregarious Piero, one of the two handsome Italians running the place. Mama mia, Italy is so full of handsome people, especially men, it can be hard to concentrate on where you are going! We asked him if we had been wise to buy the 72 hour pass for the Vaporettos, the service boats that function the same way city buses work in other places. Piero shook his head, telling us real Venetians don't ride, they walk everywhere. He gave us each a map, along with a few handy tips on navigating the city, with its labyrinth of narrow streets and minor canals.

There is so much to tell about Venice! We got our bearings by the second day, and I wished aloud, "If only we could stay one more day!" Little did we know...
Sr. Rick advises visitors to "enjoy Venice early and late", when most tourists have returned to cheaper hotels on the mainland, and the Venetians are out and about. So Mark and I went for an early stroll, buying some fresh foods at the open air market around the corner from our hotel. We watched the Traghetto ferrying locals across the canal, and vowed to do this ourselves later in the day (Traghettos are like less fancy gondolas, carrying people across canals at certain stations for only 50 Euro cents); riders usually stand, which can be exciting when a speed boat zips by!

Burned out on religious art and extravagant cathedrals, we opted for the Peggy Guggenheim gallery. Her restored palazzo opens right onto the Grand Canal, and is filled with robust examples of twentieth century art. (If you ever go, check out the charming bronze sculpture of the happy man on the horse). On this sunny, perfect day, we took our time, enjoying coffee at a stand on the far end of the Grand Canal, at a kiosk where we were surrounded by locals and art students. A cup of coffee at a table with a nice view can cost you 5 euros in Venice - that's about $6.50 in U.S. dollars; Venezia is easy on the eyes, hard on the money belt.

Speaking of money, we were careful to protect ourselves from thieves in Italy, but were unprepared for Venice, where this same scam occurred whenever we weren't paying attention: we'd go to a cafe, bakery or pizza parlor, order our items, then realize later we'd been overcharged by a couple euros! Most tourists who can't speak Italian are probably happy to have gotten what they asked for, and don't notice this petty robbery, but I found it discouraging. I learned to ask for a receipt for each purchase.

While riding a Vaporetto back to Riato bridge, an American couple next to us noticed our Rick Steve's guide, and shared that they were enjoying it, too. That's how we found out about the TRAIN STRIKE! Italy is known for it's routine strikes, and this one would begin that night at 9. We would miss our train to the Cinque Terre! These folks kindly offered to share their rental car with us, although they were only going as far as Pisa. We agreed to meet them that evening in San Marco square, and update them on our situation.

Back at the hotel, the other handsome owner, Roberto, reassured us that the strike would only last 24 hours, and the line at the train station ticket booth would probably not be too long. He was right on both counts. Linus came up with the idea of taking a night train, so we wouldn't loose our first day in Vernazza; fortunately, we were able to get the last 3 seats on the train. So I got my wish, an extra day in Venice. We met with the American couple and thanked them for their offer, then wandered through the streets, finding a recommended restaurant. We enjoyed the best pizza in Venezia at a candle-lit table on a quiet piazza, with the night settling in around us and the music of an accordianist playing "Besame, besame mu-cho!" To cap it off, Mark and I danced to the music of the dueling orchestras in Piazza San Marco, free entertainment as long as you don't sit at a table. Linus was a good sport, distancing himself from us while observing the other travelers and reading his omnipresent book.

Day 3: morning walk + our first Traghetto rides, the free speedboat ride across the turquoise lagoon to the Murano glass factory, ducked out after the interesting hot glass demonstration to peruse the small shops selling (much) cheaper items, picnic in the little public park (left-over pizza from the night before), and a Vaporetto ride back to the mainland; bought beautiful pastries (got overcharged), enjoyed a simple dinner in the working neighborhood of Santa Elena, strolled back along the other side of Venice for one last dance in San Marco square, before changing clothes and heading off to the train station.

The night train deserves its own description, because every noctural voyage seems to evoke some memorable experiences. Suffice to say we all ended up crowded into a compartment meant for 6 but holding 7 of us, as they had oversold the train (I gave up my seat in another compartment to a mother with a tiny baby - she had no assigned seat!). Our gracious companions were two young American couples, and we passed the hours in lively conversation. The Conductor came by and sold us a bottle of cold red wine for 12 euros ("Very good! Very good! " he said; it was probably a 2 euro bottle, but we enjoyed it very much!). Tony and Carmen, Ryan and Shannon, grazie mille for a memorable night. We exchanged e-mail addresses before saying goodbye that morning.