Same day, just later.

I had forgotten how restorative naps can be. After our little snack, Susan worked on her blog for a bit, and I stretched out to rest my eyes…just for fifteen minutes or so. Several hours later, I roused up enough to realize I needed to feed my lovely bride before she started getting cranky again. We headed for a bar we had heard about which advertised live jazz, as well as decent food. On arrival, we found it had been taken over by a gaggle of foreigners, and ‘twas a jumping joint. After a brief consultation we elected to search for a quieter venue.
We wandered toward San Marco and ended up in the piazza. Amazing the difference between mid-day and 6:00pm. There were still people around the square, but most of them were trying to leave and get back to hotels or cruise ships. The museums and Basilica were closed, so the only thing to do was stroll about and people watch. We found an Italian seafood restaurant a block or so off the square, and settled in for a five course meal. Baby octopi, sweet & sour sardines, spaghetti with mussels, sautéed prawns, fried squid, shrimps, and minnows were just some of the interesting things crawling across our plates. While eating, two large groups of American school kids came into the restaurant: one extremely noisy, loud and northeastern in dialect; the second was quieter, more tastefully attired, and sat at three tables close to us. Susan & I kept trying to guess where they were from by their dress and behavior. Ruled out anywhere northern, especially after half of them ordered coca-colas, and they weren’t tanned enough to be from the west coast. Susan settled on Atlanta, based simply on the fact that the teacher leading the group and several of the guys were wearing deck shoes with no socks (a la Lewis Grizzard). As we were leaving, I had to ask where they were from, and they were from Beaufort, South Carolina. One girl was excited to hear we were from Texas since she is going to SMU in the fall. It’s a small world, indeed.
We arrived back at Piazza S. Marco in time for the evening passeggiata, or stroll. The personality of the square was completely changed from mid-day. Orchestras were set up in front of cafes around the edges of the piazza, and took turns playing sets of different music. This ranged from Broadway show tunes to Vivaldi. If you feel like sitting, the café will charge you for the privilege of doing so with a 10 Euro coberto or cover charge. We opted to just stroll the square with the crowd of mostly locals, listening to first one and then another orchestra in the gathering darkness. After this mostly perfect evening, I did manage to get lost again on the way back to the apt. Some things never change.
Ciao for now.

A Slow Day?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Today we have started out on a calmer note. Traipsing over the Ponte S. Maria Nova, brought us to the campo and a canal-side café. Susan & I settled into a tavola with our cappuccinos, and undertook some serious people watching. She thinks she is able to pick out the different furriners by their demeanor and dress (or lack thereof). Even though I’m not as confident in ID’ing Germans, Frenchies, Americans, etc., it is easy to spot the Italians. They tend to dress much better and move through their world with an air of confidence lacking in all the others. Some of the tourists, Germans especially, attempt to make up for this lack of confidence with a display of arrogance which can make even the Americans look good in comparison.
Last night we found an Internet café with a wireless hot-spot which allowed us to clear out the emails and post some pictures to our blogs. It was your typical little hole-in-wall Italian pizza parlor, run by a family of Chinese. We did alright getting drinks and food ordered since we stuck to the basics…vino rosso and pizza. Some Germans came in after us, and were trying to order complex Italian dishes in German from the Chinese waitress…it was not pretty.
One surprise in Venice has been the multitude of dogs. If I had given it any thought before arriving, I probably would have predicted it to be a cat city, with little or no solid ground and everything covered with concrete. But we have yet to sight our first cat, and there is a constant swirl of puppies around us wherever we venture. Evidently, the Venetians take them along to work, and they stay throughout the day. All sizes, all breeds…there is no real pattern other than it seems every third resident has one, and the puppies tend to be very well trained. And there are no messes in the streets. As we sat this morning, we saw several doggies do their business, and their owners immediately swooped in, picked up the poo and dropped it in the trash, obviously a routine part of their day.
We headed out to go to the grocery which is just up the street (alleyway) from the apartment. We’ve only been past it a ½ dozen times so far, so naturally yours truly gets lost and we end up on the Strada Nuova, which is one of the largest shopping areas after Rialto. I tried to get Susan interested in doing a little light window shopping since we were already there, but all we picked up were some picture postcards. Since I had already been lost in that area several times on this trip, we quickly found the COOP store and picked up some necessities. Left there and stopped at the fruit stand to pick up some melon and cherries, then next door to the cheese shop for some asiago fresa to go with our prosciutto. In fact, Susan just brought me a plate with some cheese, prosciutto, pane and fresh cherries for a little snack to tide me over until time for espressos in an hour or two. Then we have to discuss where we’ll go for supper…I think seafood tonight. So eat your hearts out people, cause we’re sure not in Naruna anymore, are we Toto?

How many times can an Aggie get lost on an Island?

Monday, June 09, 2008
So much for good intentions! I managed, with help from my alarm, to crawl out of bed at an earlier hour this morning. Susan got the café brewed and served up (she really does take care of me) and we headed out the door on time. We even found our way back to and across the Rialto Bridge, and on to the church of the Frari, which was our mission for the day. It was after the tour of the church that I managed to get us lost again for a largish span of time. It was only when we were trying to get onto the causeway which connects Venice with the mainland that I realized my error. The only thing which made it bearable was the young couple from North Carolina who came up to us asking directions on getting to Venice…they are probably in Austria by now. I guess I should have known we were going astray when we went strolling across a parking lot…after only two days here, it really felt strange to see cars instead of boats.
The Frari was well worth the prolonged walk. It has works of Bellini and Titian as well as others who made their paintings and sculptures for just this setting. It makes some of the pieces in museums look lost, lonely, and out of context in comparison. If you are really interested in Venetian art, Google the Frari, etc. I feel I’ve done good to decide whether I personally like something, but I can’t begin to explain it to others, so I’ll try not to write art reviews and chase everyone away.
While we wandered lost on the periphery of this island city, we happened upon a green spot. It only takes a short time to become accustomed to the lack of grass and other vegetation, so finding an actual park with trees and shrubs and flowers was a welcome respite. It is hard to imagine trees in this place which is built on mud flats covered with stone.
I really need to start feeding Susan on a regular schedule. I am so used to grabbing a doughnut and a cup of coffee before embarking on a surgery marathon, which frequently sails right through lunch, I don’t think about stopping at a particular time for meals. However, Susan gets really testy if I don’t slow for real food with some regularity. I would even say she gets cranky if she has to skip meals. It seems one of her ideas of an Italian vacation revolves around an endless supply of pasta dishes, with some new and untried variety always available for tasting. After 32 years, I should know better.
It is about time for us to hit the sidewalks and canals again. Susan spotted an Internet café with wireless access, so we will try to find it again and connect with the outside world. After that, who knows what the night will bring us?
Ciao from Venezia

First Day in Venice

Sunday, June 8, 2008
Slept last night as only those who have crossed too many time zones in too few hours can, but awakened feeling rested and ready to go. Then realized the reason we felt so rested was that it was well into the afternoon before we started moving. Susan deciphered the inner workings of a strange little coffee maker and came up with some drinkable brew, although we had forgotten to pick up any creamer at the neighborhood COOP yesterday evening. I guess we’ll drink our espresso neat.
We didn’t have a real plan for our first day in Venice, but thought the best idea was to do a little on-the-ground scouting. We wandered out into a beautiful day, and headed in the direction of the Rialto bridge and then Piazza San Marco. The closer to our goal, the larger the crowds became. At the Rialto Bridge, we climbed to the top and watched the traffic on the Grand Canal. As we looked down at the crowds in the market, even Susan agreed she didn’t want to shop that badly. With Rialto behind us, we headed off on a tangent, away from the main corridor between Rialto and San Marco. Meandering through the back streets, we took a circuitous route which eventually led us unexpectedly into the main piazza.
It seemed as though there were as many tourists as pigeons, scattered in large clumps about the square. The gabble of different languages assaulting us from every side made me think of the Tower of Babel, with so many peoples drawn together for a single purpose, yet unable to understand each other. The one thing which was universally understood was by the little ones who realized the importance of chasing as many pigeons as possible, while simultaneously making as much noise as possible. We circled the square, orienting ourselves to the layout, and picking out spots to return to later. All was beautiful, and jam-packed with tourists intent on getting into and out of each of the sites on the piazza. Nothing was allowed to interfere with this mission, certainly not a couple of old folks from Texas who happened to get in the way. We realized that mid-afternoon was not the time to try to do anything there.
We headed to our apartment, and took the tourist path back toward Rialto since we knew it was in that general direction. All was well until I got distracted by a shop on a side street. After all, I couldn’t really be expected to pass up “The Vivaldi Store”, could I? We moseyed along in the general direction of our apartment, when what to our wondering eyes should appear? A gaggle of girls, wearing Maroon Out tees. They revealed they were Aggies in Europe ostensibly taking classes and somehow landed in Venice. One confided they were actually supposed to be in Florence, so I’m pretty sure they slept through Map-Reading 101.
Even though I stayed awake in my bull text classes, I still managed to become disoriented and thoroughly turned around. We kept finding places we had been, but couldn’t get from there to our apt. Finally, the Beta Sig in the family took charge and said, “You need a drink”. I’ve learned over the years to listen to my demonstrably better half when she feels it is necessary to take charge, so we grabbed a shady table in a pizzeria/café in the Campo dei SS Apostoli. Breezy and cool, it was the perfect spot for me to regroup mentally. After a salad, pizza with everything including anchovies, and a carafe of wine each, we were both feeling more relaxed and frankly didn’t really care if we found our apt. So naturally, the way was revealed and we were soon back home.
We sat up plotting out the rest of our week, since we don’t want to miss anything, right? Tomorrow, we are heading out to one of the many churches, S. Maria dei Frari, to see Venetian art as it was originally intended to be seen…in church as a worshipful adjunct. I’ll report what we find and I’ll try not to get lost too many times.
Ciao!

Arrived in Venezia

Saturday, June 7, 2008
We departed Dallas on a completely full 767, and headed for Europe. Almost 10 hours later we arrived in Paris, after passing a sleepless night. The meskin food we had at DFW did not mix well with the hard-to-describe chicken dish I had somewhere over Maine. Adding some yogurt and too-strong coffee at breakfast a few hours later really did not help my stomach, especially with little rest.
Paris was one layover we were really looking forward to. I had allowed more than two hours giving us some time to do a little wandering in what had been described to us as a thoroughly modern airport. After an extended wait on the taxiway for our gate to be ready, we debarked in what is described as a satellite terminal. After walking to the 2A main terminal, we found our connecting flight was “probably” going to leave from the 2F terminal. We were instructed to go outside the terminal, and wait for a shuttle bus which would take us where we needed to be. The waiting area was adjacent to the flight line, and we had to be careful of fuel trucks and baggage transporters which were constantly zipping past.
After a scenic tour of the working areas of Europe’s second busiest airport, we arrived at what we hoped would be the appropriate terminal. Meandering through what Susan kept saying was the ugliest airport she had ever seen, we came to a security checkpoint where we were told we had to get a boarding pass before proceeding. This wasn’t really new or useful information, and after a protracted multilingual (well, she spoke French and we spoke English) exchange, we were directed to the Air France counter to get boarding passes for our Alitalia flight. Apparently, Air France has acquired at least a part interest in the financially distressed Alitalia, and has taken over operating some of their flights. When we made our way to the AF counter, we first thought there was a riot brewing. It turned out some travel agent had sold tickets for a non-existent tour going to Beirut, so there was a large group of unhappy middle eastern travelers stuck in Paris, with no way of going to Beirut or getting hold of the person sold them the tickets. By comparison, our request for a boarding pass to Venice was welcomed by the agent as being a problem that at least had a resolution, so he helped us almost cheerfully… at least as cheerfully as possible while still being French. (It may have helped that I wasn’t cursing at him in Lebanese!)
Boarding pass In hand, we made our way back to the security checkpoint, which we passed with no trouble. It was no different from any airport security in the states, at least if you ignored the machine guns. Emerging into the gate area of the terminal, we thought we had finally found the airport we had heard about. Soaring glass ceiling, very open and quiet with none of the blaring overhead announcements so common in American airports. We cruised the duty free shops and didn’t find anything affordable or desirable, except for some off-color French postcards which I resisted buying. Time for our flight arrived and we headed down the jet-way, to…a bus. No plane awaited us at the bottom of the stairs, so we started off on another tour of the guts of CDG airport. We went to yet another terminal, climbed yet another flight of stairs, before finally boarding our plane. At last we were convinced our luck had changed. The plane was an Airbus 321, which was the nicest and roomiest medium sized plane we have traveled on in a long time. Larger seats, more leg room, and the cleanest interior we’ve seen on the trip. And finally, an airline that understands that flight attendants are supposed to be young(ish), well-groomed and professional in appearance and action. Soon we were on our way with only a few minor glitches; such as, being delayed 25 minutes because a flight from Atlanta was late, and the ancient French guy in the next seat filling the barf bag before the plane moved an inch.
The impression we had gathered of Air France’s flight crew and plane was heightened, when after about 15 minutes in the air we were fed the best airborne meal of the trip. We had a salmon pasta salad and an extremely dense and rich chocolate dessert with beer or wine included. No Charge! All this on a flight which lasted an hour and 20 minutes! When was the last time anyone had that on a domestic flight??
We got to Venice too late to catch our planned ride, but caught the next boat and made our way across the lagoon to Fondamente Nove, where we met our rental agent, who led us across the island to our apartment. I had felt pretty confident I could find the place on my own, because after all, I had a map! I quickly realized that having the map didn’t make much difference on the ground. What looked like nice straight broad thoroughfares, turned out to be 4 foot wide alleyways which twisted and turned constantly. We’ll see if things look any different in the morning after a good night’s sleep.
Ciao for now!

The First Step

We have taken the first step on our trip to Venice. DFW! At least the food places in the new international terminal are an improvement over the usual airport fare. Next stop, Paris! Stay tuned and look for how Europe copes with an influx of Naruna-ites.

Getting Ready

Preparations for our departure are beginning to take on a frantic feel. All the major issues (transportation, accommodations, etc.) have been resolved, just leaving the niggling little details to deal with. I am trying to maintain a deliberately low key approach to what I’ve discovered could be a frantic, panic-attack inducing psychological trauma. Early on it was clear I could easily be the weak link in our trip plans, never knowing when my less than perfect knee joints might bring all sightseeing efforts to an unexpected halt. With this in mind, we decided to approach our trip as an opportunity to spend some “quality time” in a few places, rather than undertaking a headlong dash down the boot of Italy, ducking into every museum and gift shop along the way. Opting to be in control of our time and activities, rather than turning all the planning and logistics over to a commercial tour operator was one of those difficult decisions we had to make as we first began to plan. Only time will tell whether this was really the right choice, but I bet we have a good time, anyway. After all, I’m going to the land of amore and exotic Italian food with my lovely child bride. What more could a fellow ask for?