Venice, very nice to see you
Updated: Nov 3, 2018
We have left Rome, where I was the only person in athleisure wear. (I wore Lululemon pants on the exceptionally rainy day. Not a single Italian was in spandex.)
But before we departed, I introduced the Romans to some more of my sporty clothes: Dan and I ran along the Tiber River and to St Peter’s square and that’s how I know he loves me. Great jogging views, I’ll say. And there were some (maybe German) Catholic school children snapping adorable group jumping pics. We didn’t do the same. I just Portrait-moded sweaty Dan in front of (I think another Bernini) fountain.
Restless Leg syndrome avoided, we said Ciao to our cute Airbnb and the espresso maker than Dan fell in love with, and made our way to the train station. Our cab ride was aggressive, with the driver hitting his rear view mirror into another car. And him falsely claiming there was no lunch to be found at the termini. We found food, specifically about 4 pizza slices for Dan— good eater!— and I the Italian version of a bagel, lox and (mayo-ish) cream cheese.
Then it was a 3.5-hour ride to Venice where I napped, waved at Daddy’s birthplace and figured out how to respond to a “compliment” that an American mom gave to Dan. She said he looked like “a young Christopher Walken.” She showed me a pic of the actor in Deer Hunter. And that’s when I learned that Christopher Walken used to resemble Dan. Should I be worried?
In Venice, we water taxied over to our hotel and I couldn’t help but smile and wave at everyone who did not wave back. It’s stupid pretty here. Didn’t we once stay at a Disney resort that was meant to resemble Venice? I hope so, because I felt flashbacks to that. But this is the real deal! Gondolas, little canals between peach, cream and clay buildings. So dreamy.
Dreamier still, Dan and I spent our first evening at La Fenice Theater. Aka “The Phoenix” because it was rebuilt after it burned down and HOLY CRAP IT IS SOMETHING TO BEHOLD. We had a romantic box seat where we could see the gorgeous chandelier, ceiling painted with angelic women and babies, and other people in the audience of the peach and gold room, illuminated by moody candelabras that Dan would really like me to get for my apartment. (I currently have bright bulbs that are less than great.)
Oh, and there was a performer! Pianist Rafal Blechaz who breezed through some Beethoven and Chopin at “the fastest tempo possible” in some cases, according to a playbill we attempted to translate. I mimed plenty of the music on Dan’s arm and I think I have a future in air piano.
Interesting food eaten in the last day includes a “cicetti” (another kind of pre-dinner snack) of a meat-filled olive , scallop in a pretty shell and dinner of duck ragu and bronzino. Seafood is so fresh
Italian musings: The public restrooms often don’t have much of a seat. You basically have to hover. Some facilities have plastic bags that I assume are for tampons?
Also, Italians write the number 9 so that the bottom of the number looks like a J. I like the curlier look.
Like in Rome, plenty of women wear flat boots and sneakers. There’s a lot of walking on cobblestones so it makes sense.
Our first evening in Venice ended with a San Marco orchestra serenading our walk home with Besame Mucho. Romance!
Next stop: Museums, churches, more seafood and window shopping.