A (nearly) Heartbreaking (and exciting) Trip of Staggering Genius (IMHO)-a trip report from Italy and France
May 25th, 2005, 09:02 AM
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A (nearly) Heartbreaking (and exciting) Trip of Staggering Genius (IMHO)-a trip report from Italy and France
An (almost) Heartbreaking (but also intensely exciting) Trip of Staggering Genius (IMHO): Part 1
As in many story intros I must make the statement that all errors are mine entirely and the good parts are largely due to all the incredible Fodorites and Trip Advisor people.
To recap this was an eagerly awaited trip about which I posted innumerable inane to technical questions on the board. We cashed in miles for the tickets and then actually accrued enough miles to upgrade but weren’t able to get a route so…
In order to try to get exit rows we went to the airport the night before and did get exit/bulkhead seats on leg one Seattle to Philadelphia. We stayed across the street at the Hilton airport hotel and got all 15 days of parking free-definitely worth doing. Next morning the seats were great and the flight went smoothly. In Philadelphia we camped out at the gate because gate agents at the gate in Seattle and at the check in desk had told us that for 151 dollars one could upgrade to 1st class.Snagging two primo prey spots near the gate desk I noted a young woman with a similar gleam in her eye that immediately identified her to me as a competitor for the upgrade. We eyed each other warily. When the gate agents arrived my strategy was to let them get set up (never annoy a gate agent) and then ask about the upgrade pointing out shamelessly that it was my birthday (better than no strategy at all). However my wily competitor leapt to her feet and jumped up to the desk, only to be very brusquely shooed off by the never smiling agent. Aha-I was already ahead on patience points! But sadly I was informed that upgrades were widely available for a mere cost of the differential between my ticket price and the day’ current price, so $3,407each. Strangely we passed as did the more than 20 other people who made the same request. Clearly US Air has some super savvy plan regarding opportunity upgrades. On the plane there were 7 people in 1st class with about 30 some empty seats. Seatguru.com had assured me prior to flying that this airbus configuration was ripe for upgrades because 1st class was so big. Oh well…
Back in coach my DH was reciting a wonderful story about the sensation that was occurring with his knees in full contact with the seat in front of him. Much as I enjoyed his story even after the third retelling, I spotted a row two rows forward that had only one person in it. She kindly agreed to let me sit in the third seat so our flight to Venice was decent enough for me and for my DH who could then spread into my former seat.
Arriving in Venice was smooth and we easily found the water bus dock. The ACTV boat ride into Venice was amazing, the water was so blue in the sunshine and the scenery was incredible. But here is the heartbreaking part
omehow in flight my pen had exploded its full ink cartridge into my new-for-the-trip-very-expensive-Italian handbag. So the two halves of my brain warred for the entire boat ride: enjoy this amazing experience vs. die of grief over the loss of the handbag.
The hotel (Ca’Angeli) had kindly provided us with a map from the San Silvestri boat stop. On paper, and my DH is a firm adherent to the Church of Cartography, it seemed simple enough. Well it was warm, about 75 degrees and our bags became heavier and heavier. Of course we were both cheery travelers at this point, since my handbag grief was flaring up and my DH was amazed that the map DID NOT SHOW THIS STREET. We passed the same church three times. On the second trip through my DH pulled out our larger Venice map carefully unfolding it, consulting it and confidently striding off. The third time the same two women were still outside the church and seemed very interested in us. This time the map was perhaps rather roughly pulled out and the refolding was more in the nature of crunching it into a ball and slamming it in the pocket accompanied by rather terse comments about mapmakers.The waiting women got immense amusement out of the origami master and the map. We did finally throw the luggage into a pile and my DH , in the nature of Lewis and Clarke set off in search of the hotel. Ca’Angeli is right on the grand canal and was a very nice three star ten room hotel. The owners ,the Wulten brothers , were very welcoming and most importantly showed the appropriate amount of grief on viewing the corpse of my handbag. They showed us our room, the breakfast room and the lovely salon overlooking the canal and then agreed to transport my handbag to a dry cleaning establishment.
The rest of day one was a bit of a blur but we rallied and first had a bottle (yes I said bottle, remember the getting lost part and the handbag?) of wine at Café Florian and some snacks. We climbed up the Campanile and enjoyed the view. Walked around the crowded San Marco square marveling that we were actually there but reserving that for later. We then went to wander (nice word for lost with pretty views) and find the Ca rRezzione (sp), a very nice former palace on the canal that I enjoyed but is now a blur. After mapmaster plotted out our course home and we were still hours away ,I decided that my tiny dyscartographic brain might work better so I led us back in the direction of the Rialto Bridge, stumbling upon St. Stephen’s square and refortifying with wine before we found our room. My DH lay down and seven hours later still hadn’t moved so we called it a day and a night and time to rest.
End of Day 1
As in many story intros I must make the statement that all errors are mine entirely and the good parts are largely due to all the incredible Fodorites and Trip Advisor people.
To recap this was an eagerly awaited trip about which I posted innumerable inane to technical questions on the board. We cashed in miles for the tickets and then actually accrued enough miles to upgrade but weren’t able to get a route so…
In order to try to get exit rows we went to the airport the night before and did get exit/bulkhead seats on leg one Seattle to Philadelphia. We stayed across the street at the Hilton airport hotel and got all 15 days of parking free-definitely worth doing. Next morning the seats were great and the flight went smoothly. In Philadelphia we camped out at the gate because gate agents at the gate in Seattle and at the check in desk had told us that for 151 dollars one could upgrade to 1st class.Snagging two primo prey spots near the gate desk I noted a young woman with a similar gleam in her eye that immediately identified her to me as a competitor for the upgrade. We eyed each other warily. When the gate agents arrived my strategy was to let them get set up (never annoy a gate agent) and then ask about the upgrade pointing out shamelessly that it was my birthday (better than no strategy at all). However my wily competitor leapt to her feet and jumped up to the desk, only to be very brusquely shooed off by the never smiling agent. Aha-I was already ahead on patience points! But sadly I was informed that upgrades were widely available for a mere cost of the differential between my ticket price and the day’ current price, so $3,407each. Strangely we passed as did the more than 20 other people who made the same request. Clearly US Air has some super savvy plan regarding opportunity upgrades. On the plane there were 7 people in 1st class with about 30 some empty seats. Seatguru.com had assured me prior to flying that this airbus configuration was ripe for upgrades because 1st class was so big. Oh well…
Back in coach my DH was reciting a wonderful story about the sensation that was occurring with his knees in full contact with the seat in front of him. Much as I enjoyed his story even after the third retelling, I spotted a row two rows forward that had only one person in it. She kindly agreed to let me sit in the third seat so our flight to Venice was decent enough for me and for my DH who could then spread into my former seat.
Arriving in Venice was smooth and we easily found the water bus dock. The ACTV boat ride into Venice was amazing, the water was so blue in the sunshine and the scenery was incredible. But here is the heartbreaking part
omehow in flight my pen had exploded its full ink cartridge into my new-for-the-trip-very-expensive-Italian handbag. So the two halves of my brain warred for the entire boat ride: enjoy this amazing experience vs. die of grief over the loss of the handbag.The hotel (Ca’Angeli) had kindly provided us with a map from the San Silvestri boat stop. On paper, and my DH is a firm adherent to the Church of Cartography, it seemed simple enough. Well it was warm, about 75 degrees and our bags became heavier and heavier. Of course we were both cheery travelers at this point, since my handbag grief was flaring up and my DH was amazed that the map DID NOT SHOW THIS STREET. We passed the same church three times. On the second trip through my DH pulled out our larger Venice map carefully unfolding it, consulting it and confidently striding off. The third time the same two women were still outside the church and seemed very interested in us. This time the map was perhaps rather roughly pulled out and the refolding was more in the nature of crunching it into a ball and slamming it in the pocket accompanied by rather terse comments about mapmakers.The waiting women got immense amusement out of the origami master and the map. We did finally throw the luggage into a pile and my DH , in the nature of Lewis and Clarke set off in search of the hotel. Ca’Angeli is right on the grand canal and was a very nice three star ten room hotel. The owners ,the Wulten brothers , were very welcoming and most importantly showed the appropriate amount of grief on viewing the corpse of my handbag. They showed us our room, the breakfast room and the lovely salon overlooking the canal and then agreed to transport my handbag to a dry cleaning establishment.
The rest of day one was a bit of a blur but we rallied and first had a bottle (yes I said bottle, remember the getting lost part and the handbag?) of wine at Café Florian and some snacks. We climbed up the Campanile and enjoyed the view. Walked around the crowded San Marco square marveling that we were actually there but reserving that for later. We then went to wander (nice word for lost with pretty views) and find the Ca rRezzione (sp), a very nice former palace on the canal that I enjoyed but is now a blur. After mapmaster plotted out our course home and we were still hours away ,I decided that my tiny dyscartographic brain might work better so I led us back in the direction of the Rialto Bridge, stumbling upon St. Stephen’s square and refortifying with wine before we found our room. My DH lay down and seven hours later still hadn’t moved so we called it a day and a night and time to rest.
End of Day 1
May 25th, 2005, 09:48 AM
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Anyone who had anything to do with your planning ought to feel honored by your acknowledgements. I often do not read trip reports, but your title ought to at least win you some kind of literary nomination (this, coming from a great admirer of parentheses and "en dashes"
, and the rest is quite entertaining thus far.
And I will likely reference this one for the future - - for people with questions about itineraries that start with arriving in Venice.
I'll not go as far as saying that it's a mistake - - but in my mind, the awe and loveliness of Venice just doesn't go together with the fog and "dyscartography" (by far, my favorite new word of the day!) of those first 24 hours after de-planing. You describe it well.
Keep it coming.
Best wishes,
Rex
, and the rest is quite entertaining thus far.And I will likely reference this one for the future - - for people with questions about itineraries that start with arriving in Venice.
I'll not go as far as saying that it's a mistake - - but in my mind, the awe and loveliness of Venice just doesn't go together with the fog and "dyscartography" (by far, my favorite new word of the day!) of those first 24 hours after de-planing. You describe it well.
Keep it coming.
Best wishes,
Rex
May 25th, 2005, 10:53 AM
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This is a great report! I cannot wait for part 2. Fortunatly suehoff is 6 to 9 hours ahead of us timewise (well actually Italy is) from here in the US so maybe if the purse got cleaned suehoff will be so excited she will post back quickly, jetlagged or not!
So far I think this would make a fantastic movie!
So far I think this would make a fantastic movie!
May 25th, 2005, 12:24 PM
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Hi Sue,
I am completely captivated! What a good read!
Please allow me to express my sympathy over your "new-for-the-trip-very-expensive-Italian handbag". I REALLY feel for you on this one. Was it a total death or partial destruction? If only the lining was affected, they can sometimes replace if the outside can be saved. Worthless pens. Perhaps the dry cleaning establishment worked their Venetian magic and all was not lost????
Still captivated, more please!
Tiff
I am completely captivated! What a good read!
Please allow me to express my sympathy over your "new-for-the-trip-very-expensive-Italian handbag". I REALLY feel for you on this one. Was it a total death or partial destruction? If only the lining was affected, they can sometimes replace if the outside can be saved. Worthless pens. Perhaps the dry cleaning establishment worked their Venetian magic and all was not lost????
Still captivated, more please!
Tiff
May 25th, 2005, 12:40 PM
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I am so glad to live among purse sympathizers so I'll reveal that unfortunate part as it was really part of day 1 anyway. After our wandering we returned to Ca Angeli, me with high hopes of an Italian de-inking expert, my husband a bit irked that I the micro-brained non map reader had actually gotten us home. With all the expediency worthy of such an incredible disaster (the inky handbag) the Wulten brothers rushed out to greet me with very solemn expressions (think Six Feet Under overtones) and explained that the dry cleaner couldn't salvage it, that a special ink removing chemical was needed. They solemnly handed it over and really the sympathy was palpable. My DH then entered his coma on the bed as I decided (remember the microbrain reference?) to try to rinse it out. To curtail any additional pain I will report that this was a disaster resulting in amazing amount of collateral damage to towels, the closet floor where I let it drip dry, etc.
So I left it hanging in the closet because you know miracles have been known to happen and this is where the pope lives (a little north but nonetheless). Anyway the morning sun revealed a corpse not even a mother could love so, I cleverly rotated the bag so that the immense damage was not immediately visible and put it on a shelf. I like these intermediate steps-it's like leftovers you know you will throw out but they deserve their day in the refrigerator first. So finally the next afternoon I initiated the burial process, really being more an adherent of cremation but additional collateral damage seemed too imminent for that course of action. So I stuffed it in the garbage can, its beautiful leather handles --the only unscathed portion, sadly drooping over, and finally after wearing mourning (a nice coincidence because I brought mostly black) for a few days, I started the stages of mourning ala Elizabeth Kubler Ross. Actually later in the story I really achieved an inner peace but that's to come later. Thanks all for your replies, I'll get started on Part 2 soon.
So I left it hanging in the closet because you know miracles have been known to happen and this is where the pope lives (a little north but nonetheless). Anyway the morning sun revealed a corpse not even a mother could love so, I cleverly rotated the bag so that the immense damage was not immediately visible and put it on a shelf. I like these intermediate steps-it's like leftovers you know you will throw out but they deserve their day in the refrigerator first. So finally the next afternoon I initiated the burial process, really being more an adherent of cremation but additional collateral damage seemed too imminent for that course of action. So I stuffed it in the garbage can, its beautiful leather handles --the only unscathed portion, sadly drooping over, and finally after wearing mourning (a nice coincidence because I brought mostly black) for a few days, I started the stages of mourning ala Elizabeth Kubler Ross. Actually later in the story I really achieved an inner peace but that's to come later. Thanks all for your replies, I'll get started on Part 2 soon.
