We are in Venice, so if we wanna sleep, we’ll sleep.
We wanna sleep, so we sleep.
But 10 am beckons, and the chatter of the people across our canal and the open wooden shutters on our windows beg us to begin a second day of exploration in Venice.
We decide that we are going to have a champagne breakfast. It’s pretty much brunch time by the time that we actually find a place to eat, so we kill two meals at once, and have a decent breakfast in the name of champagne.
After lunch, we do what we do best, and start wandering the streets of Venice again. This time, we go the opposite direction to where we walked yesterday. Again, we don’t really have a plan, we just wanna see and taste what we can of venice. It doesn’t take us long to reach the edge of the water, and with the sun out, the tables lining the banks are loaded with people enjoying a casual Venetian water-side lunch.
Pretty much we are always talking about what the future looks like, the life lessons we are learning, and how they can be applicable in our lives, both now and later on. Naturally, we get talking about the cafe we want to open back in Kalgoorlie, and pass a bloke posing with a peacock, for what I assume is some kind of fashion shoot.
I’m not 100% sure, but I assume that it what it is.
We pull up next on the steps next to one of the canals, and just chat for the next half an hour or so. Unbeknown to us, and the rest of the punters crossing the bridge, we were sitting in the wrong spot, and after a fair while of not bothering anyone, an older venetian lady is not shy about having a good crack at us for sitting on the steps of the bridge like so many other locals. She is genuinely not happy about us sitting on these steps, but being that my 2 year old niece had better manners than her, I’m in no hurry to move, and continue my conversation with Bec.
A few moments later, Bec suggests that perhaps we should get a move on and go occupy some steps elsewhere.
Bec has picked up the mankiest case of tinea, and has been putting off going to the pharmacy in the hope that the mild case of leprosy that she has picked up will work itself out. She’s systematically developed more leprosy as the trip has gone on, so its time to visit the pharmacist. We pick up the holy powder, and decide to finish our day’s exploration of Venice.
We wander through the back streets until we come to a point where the street becomes a set of steps, and the steps descend into the canal. We grab a couple photos, and I attempt to take a photo for a couple, but after three attempts, both myself and the couple are ok with me not taking their photo anymore.
For someone in photography, you’d think that I’d get it right.
I didn’t get it right.
It was an iPhone.
What is wrong with me?
As we are standing there, this very un-fancy gondola arrives and a whole heap of people climb off, and a few others climb on. Bec and I look at each other with a little curiosity. The sign says that it is only 2 euro, and the max capacity is 14 people. We aren’t sure whether it is the right sign we are looking at or not, but then I remember that Micky and Damo had mentioned that in Venice you an take ferries that cross the grand canal for a few euro. It was only a short ride, but saves spending 80 euro on a half hour ride, and you can say you have been on a Venetian gondola.
Being the tight-asses we are, we decide that we would take this. I mean, so far we haven’t even been on the water, let alone on a gondola. I can say that Bec’s smile is enough to know that even though we didn’t fork out crazy dollars for a gondola ride, this is satisfaction. We are snapping photos, and I grab a photo of Bec, then retire the camera for a moment, while we take in the moment, then just like that, we dock.
The trip was literally 30, maybe 45 seconds.
That is it.
We knew it was going to be quick, but this is a whole new level of a short ride. A little bit of disappointment sets in, as we realise that we have to walk all the way back around, or pay another 4 euro for us both to cross back on the gondola. We deliberate on what we are going to do, then decide that we will just walk. 4 euro is nearly another one of those pastas that we picked up yesterday, and I am not ok with that. Luckily, neither is Bec.
For some unknown reason we are feeling pretty tired, so we decide that we will head back to our place for a nap. Being that we are both a bit peckish, and that we pass the pasta place on our way back to the apartment, we invest the 4 euro we saved from the gondola, and get another pasta box to share.
The pasta is fat and creamy, the sauce is smooth and delicious, and it is all gone in about 2 minutes.
We climb into our fort, watch an episode of Brooklyn 99, and have a hard earned afternoon sleep. We both wake a little groggy, and decide that we will spend the afternoon exploring the north/north-east of Venice. We got to see a little yesterday, but not enough. We decided to take the most direct route possible, which means that we inadvertently crossed the Rialto bridge. So far in Venice, we haven’t really looked up anything we should do or any sights we should have seen. We’re more than happy to spend our time sitting and enjoying the culture and the atmosphere of the place, instead of ticking boxes and seeing certain icons.
I am sure that if we decided to take a tour or something, then we would have a greater appreciation for the landmarks and icons, as there are always amazing things to learn about these places that the locals are far more privy to.
I have no doubt that the Rialto is one of these. It is the big brother to the bridge that we saw in Florence. There are stores that form two lines, spanning the length of the bridge, itself. Just as with the Florentine bridge, the wooden shutters fold down to cover the front of the stores during the hours that the businesses are not in operation. Its pretty damn cool. The underside of the bridge is this beautiful arch, made with these big white stone blocks. The thing looks flawlessly smooth, although I am sure that it is still rough on the underside, it looks like it has almost been buffed up.
We found ourselves wandering the streets of Venice yet again, crossing all kinds of bridges, connecting one small section of venice to another. Small walkways are hidden in the corners of squares and intersections of paths, and you have to have the directional sense of a god to be able to workout where you are in this city. The whole place is a labyrinth, and you can tell that town planning wasn’t exactly a profession that people took too seriously back in the 5th century.
We cross back over the Rialto bridge, and I see a red rose sitting on the steps of the bridge. There are punters selling all kinds of things to any tourist willing to take the risk. One such item being sold like hotcakes are red roses. These guys are actually the worst and most persistent of the bunch. Forget the selfie sticks. Last night, when we went out for a walk, this one guy literally just shoved a whole bunch of roses in Bec’s face as she was walking by. Another bloke kept blocking her, while I walked ahead, completely oblivious as to what was going on. When I turned around to see her a few meters behind me, she then told me how this bloke kept blocking her, trying to sell her a rose.
Surely common sense would prevail, and you would think that it is a natural human understanding that these kinda tactics don’t make sales, but I maybe wrong. I hope not, but it is possible. Regardless, now we have a rose, and no idiotic salesman can try and flog us a rose anymore. Bec is happy, I am happy, we are all happy.
We head back to the restaurant that we visited in our first night, but since we have not been consuming our fair share of pizza, tonight is pizza night.
I am starving by the time we get there, and between the two of us, we consume 3 pizzas. Of those three pizzas, Bec had less than 1 pizza. I am equally as ashamed, as I am proud, to say that I devoured more than two pizzas on my own. I don’t know what it is, but in the last few years, my metabolism seems to have hit a new level of high.
We head home, climb back into our fort and fall asleep again.
Venice day 2.
Come back for the next story,