Monday, December 30 - Venice Italy, My Home Away From Home
by Marc Gunn

One month, I write daily, the next, not at all. Well, I've been anxious to finish this for a while since I didn't want to forget anything, but haven't gotten up off my arse to do it! So here goes...

I woke up early with my mom. Actually, we were up a wee bit late. All the sleeping in and my mom didn't quite wake up on time. So we raced out of the house, and mom drove me to the train station in Vicenza. I had no trouble buying the ticket, but the tough part was hobbling around with crutches while trying to keep my bag from falling to my feet.

With a little assistance, I made it to the train and boarded. I was still half asleep despite the exercise of crutching, so I napped as people boarded and the train filled up with people going to work.

Before I knew it we had arrived, and it was almost like a movie hobbling out of the Venice train station. The day was beautiful. Okay, maybe not a movie. It was quite the summer time, but still absolutely beautiful!

What I Love About Venice

When my mom asked me what I would do in Venice, she threw out a lot of suggestions. She suggested I hope a Vaporetto (water bus) and take it to Piazza di San Marco. From San Marco, I could see the Doge's Palace and Bridge of Sighs, short hop to the Rialto Bridge, and then see a lot of great shops in that area.

Well, that was her idea. But me, I studied cultural geography in college. I like cultures and people. That's the stuff that gets me excited. I've seen the Piazza, the islands, and the Bridge. What I want to see are the people.

Cafe Number One - Translating a Mess

I really should've taken better notes while there. But oh well. I decided to plan my trip around places to sit. Meaning, I knew crutching around Venice would be exhausting, so my plan was to crutch, then stop at a cafe. Crutch. Stop. Crutch stop.

Well my first stop was right outside the train station. Come down the stairs and turn left. Right past a big church is a cafe. Okay, so I didn't make it very far, but I also hadn't eaten breakfast yet.

So I entered the tiny cafe. It was a hole in the wall. Long stretched back to a cafe bar. Just two tables one the left. Well I was gonna sit despite the coperto.

Basically, if you want to sit in any bar or restaurant, you will be charged a cover. It's pretty small, usually around 50 cents or so. The cover charge is sorta a tip for waitresses to clean your table.

On each of the tables and by the cashier, there was a sign in English. I don't remember off-hand what the sign said, but it was a horrible translation saying pretty much, "You sit. You pay a cover charge to pay for the waitresses bussing your table."

It was dreadful. So I decided to make this my first communication attempt with the Venetian culture. I asked them, "What the heck does this mean?" in so many words...

They explained it, and I explained their translation didn't make sense. So I then spent a good fifteen minutes rewriting it in English. So next time you're in Venice, stop by and tell me if they used it.

Venetian Glass

Okay, so now what? I stepped out the cafe door and people had now dissipated. So I hobbled down the lane.

I had yet to find any gifts for folks back home, so I decided Venice would be the place I bought them. And what a great place for it too! I developed a new appreciation for Venetian glass. I hobbled along looking into windows and comparing prices. As I expected, the prices got lower and lower the further away from the train station I got.

When the station was out of view, I finally stopped into some of the stores and looked around. I wasn't too impressed. I did see some nice Venetian glass beaded necklaces though. But the prices were still a bit high. Wasn't too much else that impressed me. I guess I'm just a very finicky shopper.
I also saw some Venetian glass pens and ink. My mom bought me one a long time ago. I don't use it much, but I love it. It's a beautiful piece of art.

Probably the fifth store I stopped in was more than just a trinket shop. It was Venetian glass art. And there were some wonderful pieces. There I found an exquisite bracelet for my sister. It was brown glass almost like earth inside the glass. Gorgeous piece. I thought about it and had to buy it.

I made a decent distance before finally I had to take a break. My next stop was a little pasticerria, pastry shop. They also had some sandwiches. I got a couple glasses of water and an orange. The proprietor was a wonderful man. Very helpful.

That's one of those things I liked about being on crutches. It kinda restored my faith in humanity, you might say. People really went out of their way to accommodate me. Obviously, the attention is nice, but it's the kindness that went along with it. I left the shop feeling much more refreshed but my legs were hurting and I was getting tired. I looked at the clock and realized it was about 11am. I needed to find a place to eat for lunch.

The Language of Venice...It Ain't Italian!

Well shortly after that stop, I found another shop. I went in, and there were two very pretty young ladies working behind the counter. They annoyed me at first asking In English if they could help me.

I really hate that. I do like to blend in. And so it bugged me having them talk to me in English. Vorrei parlare Italiano! I know my Italian isn't the best, but I can get by.

Well, there were a few very pretty glass bead necklaces and glass pens. I also heard the two girls talking in Dialect! So I sat there trying to eavesdrop, while I came to the decision to buy something from this shop.

My fascination with Italian dialects started many years ago when I worked with Tiziano in the markets. I learned that many of the lower, middle and working classes speak dialects of Italian. And the dialects differ throughout the nation. Tiziano's mom speaks exclusive the Padovan dialect, whereas these lovely lasses spoke Venetian. Course, Padovan and Venetian are fairly similar, but my dialect comprehension is enough that I could make out a wee bit what they were saying.

I chose a necklace, and used that as my excuse to start a conversation. I asked them how common the Venetian dialect was, then moved on to the standard "Forty Questions" taking breaks as I tried to let the information soak in, and to finish my shopping.

They were from Venice. So I asked if they knew of any venues or knew of any Celtic bands. Then I told them a bit about the Brobdingnagian Bards. One of the girls gave me a street and venue name of an Irish pub to check out.

It was nice conversation that left me a lot more confident about my ability to hold a conversation in Italian. I'm always very worried about that. When I was visiting in college, I worked with Tiziano in the flower markets. Evenings, there'd be a big get-together with his family, but listening to all the Italian was exhausting, I'd start phasing out until finally I'd nearly fall asleep. Very embarrassing for my mom, but it was some sort of coping mechanism, I reckon.

Venetian Beauty

Well, I survived my next big adventure, and then keep hobbling along. I was really starting to get hungry. The travel guides always say to go where the locals go to eat. Well, I found a place that was packed just after noon. I went in and grabbed a cappuccino and staked the place out.

It looked like good hearty food, but I kinda wanted something more... a nice place to eat, something that reminded me of Italy, like polenta. This just didn't appeal to me, so I hobbled on checking out every restaurant along the way for a price and menu that was appetizing. I made way all the way down to a bridge when I saw a poster on one of the walls that mentioned the Irish Pub I was looking for.

I stopped and gawked for a while wondering where on earth this place could be. Looked like I'd past it or something. So I wasn't sure if I should just get something to eat at one of the past places or keep going.
Lo and behold, one of the Venetian beauties came by and I said, "Ciao." We stopped to talk for a wee bit. She gave me directions back to where her mom worked...the same place I stopped for a cappuccino. Then she went off to get a magazine, and I decided to go back and check some shops. Changed my mind again, and started back forward (sounds like a Michael J. Fox movie).

And again, there she was. So we chatted a bit more. She told me she was going home to eat. I was hoping to get an invite, but no such luck. But we did walk (and hobble together) down the street talking till we came to another bridge. I crossed it and started looking for dinner. I was getting really hungry.

Tell that Crawfish to Stop Staring at Me!

After going back and forth down the street, I finally saw a back alleyway and checked it out. There were more fishy pastas, but we're on the seafront, so I said, what the hell!

I went in and was kindly greeted while I looked behind the bar. It wasn't too appetizing offhand. It looked like an Italian all-you-can eat seafood restaurant, but I said what the heck.

The dining room was filled so they gave me complimentary drink and a bit of the buffet line that I later learned was the appetizers. That put me in a good mood. Then my seat was cleared and was introduced to delightful scene. The room was long and dark. One long table stretched down the thin taverna-styled room. Beautiful wood structure above and people sitting next to each other eating a wonderful assortment of food.

To the left, was an Italian couple in their early 30s with a young girl. To my right, two couples of Italians in the fifties. Wine was brought. I ordered an appetizer and some seafood pasta and relaxed. I also finally remembered to really get out my camera. DOH!

I took some great shots of the people eating down the long table, and the couple to my left offered to take a photo of me. The food came out, and it was delicious.

The appetizer was a very nice mix of food. I guess the only thing I didn't eat was the tuna. Didn't care for the taste, but the squid, cuttlefish, crab were great, but the pasta was a little bit disconcerting with those crawfish staring back at me! But boy was it delicious. I ate in an uncharacteristically Italian style (for me)...slow. Drank wine and acqua frizzante. Desert was okay. Just some cookies (and another wine). But I left feeling extremely well-satisfied.

Next Stop - The Rialto, Masks, and the Hobble Home

I saw a sign for the Rialto so I decided I'd go there. I took pictures all along the way. Before I knew it though, the sun was starting to set. So spent the setting evening taking photos on the bridge of couples before a Masterful sunset.

Then at the bottom of the bridge I stopped at the Mask Makers shop. You know who I'm talking about!
If you've ever been to the Rialto and mention a mask maker, you'll know who it is. This gentleman makes exquisite artistic pieces that are famous the world-over. Right now, I don't remember his name, (DOH!) but I went in and took a few pictures.

Since the sun was set, I knew I needed to get back asap. I started back towards the train station and called my mom from a cell phone she lent me. She suggested I take the vaporetto, but I figured it wasn't too far. (ha) So I still enjoyed every bit of the way and stopped to take pictures.

I stopped next at a bar. It was lit inside with red lights. There was a wee dog on a leash that came in with her master. The tiny pup was wearing a sweater. I ordered a Grappa as an appertivo and drank some water. Cool little place. I wish I had had more time to hang out.

Well, I left there and cold my mom again to tell her it was taking longer than I'd hoped.

Whoops! There was some sorta communication breakdown. Apparently, she wanted me to get home early so we could eat at Tiziano's that night. I had no clue where I was, so I just hobbled as fast as my little crutches could carry me. Fortunately, I wasn't too far. A couple blocks more and voila! The station. I upgraded to the express train to get home faster, and climbed aboard.

Lo and behold, in one of the cabins was the two couples from the restaurant I ate at. We chatted for a wee bit before the exhaustion took over. Fortunately, I told them where I was getting off, because I passed out. They woke me when I got close, and then I waited for mom to pick me up.

Visions of Italian Moms Dance in My Head

One thing I remember most working in Italy was coming back to Tiziano's and having a scrumptious Italian meal. After eating there several days and nights a week, I really fell in love with Tiziano's mom's cooking.

One day after commenting, "Mmm. How great this is!" She replies. "It's from a jar." My illusions were crushed. It seems most of her cooking was prepackaged food. Well, let me just say, that's dang fine prepackaged food!

So maybe it was just my illusions being crushed, but when I ate there that night, it wasn't that good. After joyride for my palate in Venice, this was a bit of disappointment. But it's always great to see family...and always amusing to watch American movies dubbed over in Italian while you eat.

Finally, we went home and I died...until 2am!

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