Right out the gate, the weather seemed uncooperative, but that didn't deter us from starting the day strong. First on our list was a trip to the train station to buy our tickets for tomorrow. Along the way, we poked our heads inside a beautiful-looking church, but seeing the fee to explore, we opted to soak in a few moments of culture through the curtains before the ticket booth. Call us penny-pinching, but we saw what we needed to see. We bought our train tickets, choosing the less expensive Regionalr Veloce train over the high speed Frecciabianca, and then waited to buy a 24 hour vaporetto pass. Our BnB host advised we time our 24-hour pass for just before we planned to arrive at the train station the following day. This way, we could ride the vaporetto all day today and still use the pass to for our final ride to the station tomorrow. Plus, only a few rides and the 20 euro pass easily pays for itself. During our 30 minute wait, the rain abated and we explored the nearby Papadopoli Garden, a pleasant little park across the bridge.
Once on the vaporetto, we felt almost a little disappointed by how incredibly crowded it was. Perhaps the ride the first night gave us the wrong impression, or I was ignorant for not considering daytime hordes. Probably a little of both, definitely stupid on my behalf. It wasn't unpleasant, but jammed into the stuffy main compartment was a far cry from the idyllic ride we envisioned perched at the front of the boat with a 270 degree panoramic view of the canal. We were headed to the Guggenheim museum, realizing that we had likely missed the boat (no pun intended) on visiting St. Marks in the early morning. But soon the idea struck me that all of our fellow passengers were likely bound for San Marco, and when I checked the route map, I realized that if we took the vaporetto as it continued on to the island of Lido, we would likely get that perfect boat ride we envisioned. And we were right! The ride to Lido was absolutely beautiful, and we switched seats on a whim, getting incredible views in every direction from inside and outside the boat. When we finally approached the Accademia stop for our museum excursion, we both nearly considered staying on the vaporetto for the rest of the day and exploring nearby islands.
But seeing as how the Guggenheim was one do the few of such attractions that was at the top of both our lists, we forced ourselves to disembark and hired for the museum. A short queue later and we were standing in front of Jackson Pollack's epochal Mural, and hundreds of other beautiful works of art. Reading the descriptive placards associated with several of the pieces, I was taken back to my favorite of all my college courses, Art History of Latin America. The visit reminded me of how much I enjoyed art history and how it brought out the most of me creatively and analytically. I know that I am, by many standards, utterly ignorant when it comes to identifying periods of art history, styles, techniques, and famous artists, etc., but I still relish the unpredictable way some art affects me and makes me concentrate in a broad but still intensely focused manner. It's difficult to describe, and my yammering probably just illustrates how naive I am on the subject, but I guess the point is to say how truly wonderful those couple of hours were with Maddie, wandering room to room. Sharing which ones we liked, which ones whose descriptions we disagreed with, even laughing at some whose abstractions had us beyond flummoxed by the connections drawn in the narrative displayed. All told, we spent two to two and a half hours wandering the museum, and it would have been longer had we eaten a proper lunch before entering. The museum sits right on the canal and we took a lovely break there, but after touring the entirety of the gallery, we soon surrendered to our fatigue and headed out in search of another delicious pizza.
It wasn't long before we decided to settle for the absolutely divine pizza of yesterday's acclaim at Birraria La Corte. The route back would take us through the Dorsoduro area, allowing us to say we walked through pretty much every major area of the heart of Venice. Upon our arrival some 30 minutes later, however, Maddie was growing foot-weary and exhausted, compounded perhaps by the fact that the restaurant had just closed up until dinner time. NOOOOOOOO!!!!! To make matters worse, while we sat on a bench in San Polo square, a bird decided to decorate Maddie's hair and the back of her shirt with lovely, not gag-inducing, shades of grey, puke-green, and yellowish-white. That was the straw that broke the camels's back for her, and, cursing the bird that thwarted my lunch plans, I escorted a rather distraught Maddie back to the room a few minutes away.
There, Maddie cleaned herself up, and suggested I go off exploring on my own. Not wanting to eat an entire meal before dinner, I downed a few snacks and took off into the unknown between breaks in torrential rain. Perusing various shops, it is always tempting to drop a few euros here and there on neat little hand-crafted things, like a leather-bound notebook with hand-made paper, but with my parents' cluttered, albeit incredibly interesting paraphernalia ensconced in my memory, I find the will to appreciate these things as I see them. Instead I strike up interesting conversations with these local artisans, asking them about the process that goes into their work. There are many beautiful things in Venice, but it can be difficult to ferret out which ones are real or fake. Besides, I don't have the storage space to afford collecting any more trinkets for now.
As I walked, it became more and more apparent that I would be rained on, hence my donning of sandals. It was to my delight that not only did it rain, but beautiful flashes of lightning thundered overhead, all in all producing the effect of clearing the most congested of Venetian streets of most tourists. Tramping through the puddles, my umbrella hardly doing a thing in the driving rain, I was happy as could be roaming the streets scouring shops and admiring the bevy of inviting smells emanating from local restaurants.
By the time I finally scuffled through our front door, drenched in several places, I realized how incredibly hungry I was. Hoping the rain had driven the birds away so as to eliminate any risk of a repeat of the afternoon's events, we sauntered to that same pizzeria to enjoy some home-made pasta and that same glorious pizza. A rich potato, pesto lasangette for Maddie, and a fried eggplant Parmesan pizza with San Marzano tomatoes for me, a glass of wine to share, and a tiramisu. Perfection. We have taken to bringing in our own water surreptitiously, realizing yesterday that our refreshment requests were costing 4-5 euros for a small-ish bottle. Not sure what the protocol is on that, but until I'm scolded or publicly shamed, I plan to carry on cultivating this frugal habit.
In post-pizza bliss, at just the exact right level of satiety, we walked slowly back to the apartment engaged in a wonderful and thoughtful conversation about the pitfalls of the system of tipping servers, which cascaded into a full-fledged commentary on social injustice that lasted for the better part of the next hour and a half. I cherish these lengthy talks. Soon though, we knew it was time to pack up, which we did, and then it was time for bed, which we gratefully fell into.
It was tempting to venture out one last time to enjoy a vaporetto ride or the romantic city lights, but we were honestly a bit exhausted. Considering this was our first leg of the trip, entrenched in a jet-lagged stupor, I thought we did amazingly well for ourselves and saw a TON of interesting things. I'm going to bed now extremely satisfied with my time in Venice, and j know Maddie feels the same. But now it's time to rest up for the next part of our journey. It's time to leave the city buzz behind us and head north into the mountains for some fresh air and majestic scenery.
Missing you all...but only a little bit because we're having such a good time!
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