Italy Trip: Another Scrap With Friction
Oct 18th, 2014, 09:33 AM
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I just have to say that the movie, "The Birds," paled beside the original short story, which was really scary.
I caught most of your allusions, though not those recognizable to baby boomers. I liked your von Moltke quotation. It tied everything together.
There were a couple of items that reminded me of my May bout with colitis as I was spending my last week in eastern Germany. Not an experience I'd care to repeat. I made the acquaintance of many pharmacists and bought a lot of Immodium.
I loved your report. Well-written, with interesting detail.
I caught most of your allusions, though not those recognizable to baby boomers. I liked your von Moltke quotation. It tied everything together.
There were a couple of items that reminded me of my May bout with colitis as I was spending my last week in eastern Germany. Not an experience I'd care to repeat. I made the acquaintance of many pharmacists and bought a lot of Immodium.
I loved your report. Well-written, with interesting detail.
Oct 18th, 2014, 03:21 PM
#164
As your little 'in the style of' post illustrated, too many trip reports here - and particularly on TA - highlight the good & ignor the bad. We all head out with great expectations but as my wife just said after I read her your Venice bit . . . "when it sucks, it sucks."
Fabulous report btw.
Ian
Fabulous report btw.
Ian
Oct 19th, 2014, 03:15 AM
#165
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I missed one of the references:
"Talk about your tarantula on a slice of angel food." This is from Raymond Chandler. One his most famous lines is from Farewell My Lovely: "Even on Central Avenue, not the quietest dressed street in the world, he looked about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food.”
"Talk about your tarantula on a slice of angel food." This is from Raymond Chandler. One his most famous lines is from Farewell My Lovely: "Even on Central Avenue, not the quietest dressed street in the world, he looked about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food.”
Oct 19th, 2014, 03:31 AM
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On our previous trip, we had seen the big attraction's in St. Mark's and much of San Polo. We thought about going over to re-visit the Church of Angelo Raffaele from "Miss Garnet's Angel" one of my wife's favorite books or to Frari , the only "biggie" we missed last time. However, I didn't think that I could take another church, even though I am actually an ordained minister (in the Universal Life Church of Modesto California). Instead, we decided to concentrate on new turf, so we headed toward the outback of Canneregio, which was virgin territory, at least metaphorically.
Our path took us back through the square and to a canal area where they always have a massive gondola traffic jam. They were obvious in need of a GTC (Gondola Traffic Control system) as the boats were crammed every which way into the tiny area. We continued north past the Rialto Bridge and on to Stada Nuova, the major street in Canneregio.
Despite popular lore, we have never found Venice difficult to navigate. The place is small, and it is easy to keep your bearings because of all the signs pointing to the major locations, Rialto, St. Mark's, etc. (Unfortunately, none pointed to Cantina Do Mori.). This time, I further had the Ulmon Venice map app on my ipad mini. It is a great help because it is very precise and lets you search and mark locations of many points of interest, restaurants (see below), etc. Best of all, it allows you to expand it to a scale showing any area in very fine, easily readable detail. We navigated flawlessly all over Venice with it. We've used their maps in other cities, and they are always a great help and the best app we have. I doesn't hurt that maps for most big cities are free.
As we walked along, we were in heavy shopping mode. We were at our last stop of the trip and could buy stuff without having to shlep it across Italy. As before, we found little of interest, especially since we had bought sufficient Venice kitsch on our last trip. How many gondola-shaped candle holders does one person need? We did notice that this time there was a real proliferation of cheap junk. I mean real kitsch. Last time, we visited some of the serious mask shops. If you wanted a mask, you had to pay big bucks for a real one or at least very good copy. Now, every store seemed to be selling cheap, and extremely garish imitations. Apparently, the more feathers, the better, although they weren't aren't quite as good as the ones that they sell at the local Pier One. Still, they really know how to make striking window displays, which added nicely to the Venetian ambience.
My wife found a small store where she bought a purse. The clerk didn't offer a receipt, which was a first. We had learned that tax cheating, while not a Greek level, is such a popular sport in Italy that stores are now required by law to provide a receipt of every sale. The police randomly stop shoppers outside to verify that the store had complied and recorded the sale. This was the first place where we bought anything, no matter how small, that we didn't get a receipt. When my wife finally asked for it, the clerk looked very nonplussed, doubtless because she was hoping to keep the off the books and to pocket the cash.
We wandered down the street, always on the lookout for groceries where we could buy bottled water. We needed this for breakfast since we weren't going to drink the carafe water. Aqua Panna only please, no Aqua Del Canale, thank you very much. Eventually we reached Ca d'Oro where we looked around. Even without its former gold, it is still a very handsome building. I don't recall exactly where we went after that, but we debated going on up to the Jewish Ghetto (where they no doubt sell gondola-shaped bagels) but turned around and headed back to the hotel, since the next part of the plan started at 4:00.
We had a brief rest back at the "hotel" before the next event on the schedule, a guided walk. Generally speaking, guided walks like "Walks of London" and "Runnerbean" in Barcelona have been among the highlights of our previous trips. We repeatedly have learned that a guidebook is no substitute for a knowledgeable local guide. Heat friction killed our Rome walk, so Venice our last chance to get one in. We were a bit travel worn at this point and just wanted a relatively short walk, so that cut down the options greatly. We chose a walk with a Alessandro, one of Rick Steves's minions (you can see him in the Steves Venice video) because the length was a nice, compact 1.5 hours with a small group. We had emailed back and forth and he told us to meet him on top of Rialto Bridge. He advertises that the walking tour is 8, but 15 people showed. We started off and walked a short distance before he stopped and launched into a rambling, folksy monologue of uneven interest, apparently to him as well to us. He then continued on to another stop with the group tagging along behind like a gaggle of baby geese following mom. This went on for a bit when rain started. He pulled out an umbrella and blithely continued walking and talking while everyone else ran for cover to stay dry.
Eventually we turned a corner and....Thar she blows! Break out the harpoons and the whale boats! It was Cantina Do Mori. A ten-year itch was about to be scratched. I fought the urge to leave the walk and go in for a glass of wine. Instead, we figured that we'd just come back later at a civilized dinner time, now that we knew where it was. The walk continued for another half hour before it ended with Alessandro trying to recruit participants for his paid cicchetti tour. I had already planned a cicchetti crawl centering on Cantina Do Mori, so we weren't interested. Not that we would have been anyway.
After relaxing back at the "hotel" a bit, we set off for dinner at about 7:45. I was smiling and practically giddy with joy when we turned into the little street where Cantina Do Mori was located. We approached the door with immense anticipation and...it was closed. A small sign showed that it was open only until 7:30. I was stunned. What kind of bar closes at 7:30 on a Saturday night? We tried some of the other cicchetti places on my planned crawl, Cantini Do Spade and All'Arco, and they were closed too. Since the next day was Sunday, our last day of the trip, and all the cicchetti places in the area would be closed, we had missed the only chance. Closing-earlier-than-expected friction claimed yet another victim. OK, I admit to a bit of whining here. But when I returned home, I found several references to the fact that these cicchetti places often close early, but no times were given. In a city where dinner hour starts at 8 and partying goes on all night, "early" means 7:30?
Well, we had to eat, so we considered alternatives. In reviewing possibilities prior to travel, a place called Vineria A'll Amerone had caught our notice because they serve Amerone by the glass. Actually, alcohol of any sort would have sounded pretty good about then. I located it on the Ulman map and trudged off in high dudgeon.
Vineria A'll Amerone didn't look promising. It had none of the Venice cicchetti bar atmosphere but instead was a more modern, slightly trendoid wine bar. We were not optimistic when we ordered, but we had already struck out once and had no obvious alternative. As it turned out, the Amerone was excellent and the assortment of 10 cicchetti was delicious, especially the baccala. It gets second place on best eats on the trip and first for best drinks. We also had a nice conversation with the very knowledgeable waitress about the varietals made in the area. All in all, it was a great recovery from the friction. Every so often, unplanned is good, sort of a reverse friction. Still, sooner or later, I was going to stick a harpoon in Cantina Do Mori. I am already planning my return for 2024. Hopefully, it will still be above water.
We were still a bit peckish and besides, it can't be a cicchetti crawl if you make only one stop. We tipsily meandered back toward the bridge when we noticed an open cicchetti bar, whose name now escapes me. It had been on our radar because it was ranked #8 on the Tripadvisor restaurant ratings for all of Venice. It certainly looked like what you expect a cicchetti place to look like, small, worn and vaguely disreputable. We ordered a some Amerone, which was mediocre, and couple of cicchetti which were fairly poor. Skewered by wildly-overrated-by-Tripadvisor friction once again. Well what can you expect from a source that has "Hinthunt" as the #1 thing to do in Paris? We then applied the only known medicine for combating an attack of the frictions - more wine and followed by a large dose of gelato.
We returned to the hotel to go to bed early, since tomorrow was our last day in Venice and we wanted to make an early start. Maybe friction would sleep late.
Our path took us back through the square and to a canal area where they always have a massive gondola traffic jam. They were obvious in need of a GTC (Gondola Traffic Control system) as the boats were crammed every which way into the tiny area. We continued north past the Rialto Bridge and on to Stada Nuova, the major street in Canneregio.
Despite popular lore, we have never found Venice difficult to navigate. The place is small, and it is easy to keep your bearings because of all the signs pointing to the major locations, Rialto, St. Mark's, etc. (Unfortunately, none pointed to Cantina Do Mori.). This time, I further had the Ulmon Venice map app on my ipad mini. It is a great help because it is very precise and lets you search and mark locations of many points of interest, restaurants (see below), etc. Best of all, it allows you to expand it to a scale showing any area in very fine, easily readable detail. We navigated flawlessly all over Venice with it. We've used their maps in other cities, and they are always a great help and the best app we have. I doesn't hurt that maps for most big cities are free.
As we walked along, we were in heavy shopping mode. We were at our last stop of the trip and could buy stuff without having to shlep it across Italy. As before, we found little of interest, especially since we had bought sufficient Venice kitsch on our last trip. How many gondola-shaped candle holders does one person need? We did notice that this time there was a real proliferation of cheap junk. I mean real kitsch. Last time, we visited some of the serious mask shops. If you wanted a mask, you had to pay big bucks for a real one or at least very good copy. Now, every store seemed to be selling cheap, and extremely garish imitations. Apparently, the more feathers, the better, although they weren't aren't quite as good as the ones that they sell at the local Pier One. Still, they really know how to make striking window displays, which added nicely to the Venetian ambience.
My wife found a small store where she bought a purse. The clerk didn't offer a receipt, which was a first. We had learned that tax cheating, while not a Greek level, is such a popular sport in Italy that stores are now required by law to provide a receipt of every sale. The police randomly stop shoppers outside to verify that the store had complied and recorded the sale. This was the first place where we bought anything, no matter how small, that we didn't get a receipt. When my wife finally asked for it, the clerk looked very nonplussed, doubtless because she was hoping to keep the off the books and to pocket the cash.
We wandered down the street, always on the lookout for groceries where we could buy bottled water. We needed this for breakfast since we weren't going to drink the carafe water. Aqua Panna only please, no Aqua Del Canale, thank you very much. Eventually we reached Ca d'Oro where we looked around. Even without its former gold, it is still a very handsome building. I don't recall exactly where we went after that, but we debated going on up to the Jewish Ghetto (where they no doubt sell gondola-shaped bagels) but turned around and headed back to the hotel, since the next part of the plan started at 4:00.
We had a brief rest back at the "hotel" before the next event on the schedule, a guided walk. Generally speaking, guided walks like "Walks of London" and "Runnerbean" in Barcelona have been among the highlights of our previous trips. We repeatedly have learned that a guidebook is no substitute for a knowledgeable local guide. Heat friction killed our Rome walk, so Venice our last chance to get one in. We were a bit travel worn at this point and just wanted a relatively short walk, so that cut down the options greatly. We chose a walk with a Alessandro, one of Rick Steves's minions (you can see him in the Steves Venice video) because the length was a nice, compact 1.5 hours with a small group. We had emailed back and forth and he told us to meet him on top of Rialto Bridge. He advertises that the walking tour is 8, but 15 people showed. We started off and walked a short distance before he stopped and launched into a rambling, folksy monologue of uneven interest, apparently to him as well to us. He then continued on to another stop with the group tagging along behind like a gaggle of baby geese following mom. This went on for a bit when rain started. He pulled out an umbrella and blithely continued walking and talking while everyone else ran for cover to stay dry.
Eventually we turned a corner and....Thar she blows! Break out the harpoons and the whale boats! It was Cantina Do Mori. A ten-year itch was about to be scratched. I fought the urge to leave the walk and go in for a glass of wine. Instead, we figured that we'd just come back later at a civilized dinner time, now that we knew where it was. The walk continued for another half hour before it ended with Alessandro trying to recruit participants for his paid cicchetti tour. I had already planned a cicchetti crawl centering on Cantina Do Mori, so we weren't interested. Not that we would have been anyway.
After relaxing back at the "hotel" a bit, we set off for dinner at about 7:45. I was smiling and practically giddy with joy when we turned into the little street where Cantina Do Mori was located. We approached the door with immense anticipation and...it was closed. A small sign showed that it was open only until 7:30. I was stunned. What kind of bar closes at 7:30 on a Saturday night? We tried some of the other cicchetti places on my planned crawl, Cantini Do Spade and All'Arco, and they were closed too. Since the next day was Sunday, our last day of the trip, and all the cicchetti places in the area would be closed, we had missed the only chance. Closing-earlier-than-expected friction claimed yet another victim. OK, I admit to a bit of whining here. But when I returned home, I found several references to the fact that these cicchetti places often close early, but no times were given. In a city where dinner hour starts at 8 and partying goes on all night, "early" means 7:30?
Well, we had to eat, so we considered alternatives. In reviewing possibilities prior to travel, a place called Vineria A'll Amerone had caught our notice because they serve Amerone by the glass. Actually, alcohol of any sort would have sounded pretty good about then. I located it on the Ulman map and trudged off in high dudgeon.
Vineria A'll Amerone didn't look promising. It had none of the Venice cicchetti bar atmosphere but instead was a more modern, slightly trendoid wine bar. We were not optimistic when we ordered, but we had already struck out once and had no obvious alternative. As it turned out, the Amerone was excellent and the assortment of 10 cicchetti was delicious, especially the baccala. It gets second place on best eats on the trip and first for best drinks. We also had a nice conversation with the very knowledgeable waitress about the varietals made in the area. All in all, it was a great recovery from the friction. Every so often, unplanned is good, sort of a reverse friction. Still, sooner or later, I was going to stick a harpoon in Cantina Do Mori. I am already planning my return for 2024. Hopefully, it will still be above water.
We were still a bit peckish and besides, it can't be a cicchetti crawl if you make only one stop. We tipsily meandered back toward the bridge when we noticed an open cicchetti bar, whose name now escapes me. It had been on our radar because it was ranked #8 on the Tripadvisor restaurant ratings for all of Venice. It certainly looked like what you expect a cicchetti place to look like, small, worn and vaguely disreputable. We ordered a some Amerone, which was mediocre, and couple of cicchetti which were fairly poor. Skewered by wildly-overrated-by-Tripadvisor friction once again. Well what can you expect from a source that has "Hinthunt" as the #1 thing to do in Paris? We then applied the only known medicine for combating an attack of the frictions - more wine and followed by a large dose of gelato.
We returned to the hotel to go to bed early, since tomorrow was our last day in Venice and we wanted to make an early start. Maybe friction would sleep late.
Oct 19th, 2014, 04:43 AM
#167
In a city where dinner hour starts at 8 and partying goes on all night, "early" means 7:30? >>
i think you must mean the OTHER Venice, carfree. IME restaurants etc. in Venice keep noticeably earlier hours than those in other major italian cities, probably due to the fact that many of their employees live elsewhere eg Mestre, and they need to get home. Relatively few of the people who work in Venice actually live there. There may be the odd bar that opens late, and probably things are different in Carnival [I'll be able to tell you next February!] but generally Venice shuts early. so catering to the local customs, cicchetti bars, which are essentially offering pre-dinner drinks and nibbles, will shut when all the customers leave to go to dinner at about 7.30 -8pm.
This confused us too - there was a very nice bar offering a great range of tiny filled rolls in the corner of the tiny square leading to our apartment but it kept what seemed to us to be very strange hours - 11-3 and 5-7 - until we worked out what its main customer base was ie locals wanting some cicchetti and an ombra for lunch, and the cicchetti and spritz gang in the early evening.
i think you must mean the OTHER Venice, carfree. IME restaurants etc. in Venice keep noticeably earlier hours than those in other major italian cities, probably due to the fact that many of their employees live elsewhere eg Mestre, and they need to get home. Relatively few of the people who work in Venice actually live there. There may be the odd bar that opens late, and probably things are different in Carnival [I'll be able to tell you next February!] but generally Venice shuts early. so catering to the local customs, cicchetti bars, which are essentially offering pre-dinner drinks and nibbles, will shut when all the customers leave to go to dinner at about 7.30 -8pm.
This confused us too - there was a very nice bar offering a great range of tiny filled rolls in the corner of the tiny square leading to our apartment but it kept what seemed to us to be very strange hours - 11-3 and 5-7 - until we worked out what its main customer base was ie locals wanting some cicchetti and an ombra for lunch, and the cicchetti and spritz gang in the early evening.
Oct 19th, 2014, 05:10 AM
#168
Still, I'm sorry that you are still waiting for the chance to get to this bar of yours. i think that I would have been whining too. But think - what will you have to go back to Venice for once you've been there? And it might not be very good - imagine that!
BTW I just looked at Elizabeth Minchilli's website, and she mentions that Do moro shuts by 8pm - and starts to pack up at 7.30.
BTW I just looked at Elizabeth Minchilli's website, and she mentions that Do moro shuts by 8pm - and starts to pack up at 7.30.
Oct 19th, 2014, 09:53 AM
#170
Things seem to be going better now, for which I'm glad. But...ordained by the Universal Life Church? Now that's a reference that really could use some explaining. Here, let me help:
"Any person may associate themselves with the Church and...request ordination as a minister. The Universal Life Church does not issue ministerial certificates to individuals who are currently incarcerated, but any other person may be ordained as a minister."
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_Life_Church
It was all the rage a while back, with people wanting to marry their friends without needing to resort to the cumbersome formality of hiring a "real" minister, so becoming instantly "ordained". I know several who did and the story was always good for a laugh.
Anyone? http://www.ulchq.com/ordination.htm
"Any person may associate themselves with the Church and...request ordination as a minister. The Universal Life Church does not issue ministerial certificates to individuals who are currently incarcerated, but any other person may be ordained as a minister."
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_Life_Church
It was all the rage a while back, with people wanting to marry their friends without needing to resort to the cumbersome formality of hiring a "real" minister, so becoming instantly "ordained". I know several who did and the story was always good for a laugh.
Anyone? http://www.ulchq.com/ordination.htm
Oct 20th, 2014, 04:07 AM
#171
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"Things seem to be going better now, for which I'm glad. But...ordained by the Universal Life Church? Now that's a reference that really could use some explaining. Here, let me help:"
The truth, my child, is actually somewhat different. The Universal Life Church was originally designed to be a tax dodge. The guy who established it thought that if churches don't pay taxes, why should he. The idea was to give you money to the church, on paper, and then you'd owe no tax.
But most of my cohorts, i .e., college students on drugs, thought that it was just was a cool thing to do for a hoot, being able to walk around and say that you were a minister. We were also drawn to their theological stance. The entire church cannon was one sentence: "Only do that which is right." Now, who could are argue with that? I'm surprised that they are still around.
The truth, my child, is actually somewhat different. The Universal Life Church was originally designed to be a tax dodge. The guy who established it thought that if churches don't pay taxes, why should he. The idea was to give you money to the church, on paper, and then you'd owe no tax.
But most of my cohorts, i .e., college students on drugs, thought that it was just was a cool thing to do for a hoot, being able to walk around and say that you were a minister. We were also drawn to their theological stance. The entire church cannon was one sentence: "Only do that which is right." Now, who could are argue with that? I'm surprised that they are still around.
Oct 20th, 2014, 08:47 AM
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Carfree, this is a great report. I'd love to see a movie version of your trip. This gives me further evidence that if/when my wife and I do Europe trips, we should try to visit the Italian cities in non-summer months.
Oct 20th, 2014, 10:05 AM
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I started out interested in this TR due to what I thought was his satirical style of writing, but now, it just seems like endless whining. It's this trip report that has too much friction IMO, and I feel rubbed raw.
Oct 20th, 2014, 11:53 AM
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Thanks for your detailed report. Great writing style! Having been to most places on your itinerary, it was easy to tag along with you. But you guys certainly had more than your fair share of "friction"! Hope future trips go more smoothly!
Oct 21st, 2014, 03:14 AM
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We awoke for our last full day in Venice and on the trip. After breakfast, if you can call it that, we were ready for the day's plan. We were starting with a trip out on the lagoon, which we had missed last time because of poor weather. We asked the desk clerk's advice on which vaporetto we should take for Murano. He said to take #41 or #42 from Fondamenta Nuova. He neglected to tell that these vaporetti travel in different directions and not necessarily to Murano. We learned this fact the hard way.
We strolled down Strada Nuovo and turned right up toward Fondamenta Nuova, the Ulmon map guiding us flawlessly. A #42 was just about to depart, so we hopped on board. After two stops, I noticed that we were hugging the shore and not heading out across the lagoon. By the third stop, it was clear that we were going in the wrong direction. We disembarked and then took the next vaparetto going the other way. Back at Fondamenta Nuova, I tried to figure out what had happened. Did the #42 go one way and the #41 the other? The departure signs were thoroughly confusing and no help at all. Eventually I realized that the boats must go in a circular route and not simply out to Murano, Burano, Torchello and back. We finally found the right #41 by asking various people standing in various lines until we found some going to Murano.
We dismbarked at the first stop on Murano. The place looked exactly as you might expect a suburb of Venice to look - Venice light. It had similar architecture, but was quieter and more open and more sedate. I half expected to see an Applebee's and a mall with unruly teenagers running around Venetian versions of The Gap, Sears, Yankee Candle, etc. We strolled along the quay but didn't cross the bridge to where the big glass factories are located. We thought that we'd hit them on the way back, but we didn't, since we later caught a boat at the other end of the islands. There were numerous glass stores, ranging very expensive artsy to (not so) cheap trinkets, which often were actually interesting and tempting.
We stopped at some of the expensive places to see the more elegant pieces. The experience confirmed my belief that somewhere in the world there is a single school that teaches people how to be high-end salesmen and then sends them out all over the world. Whether you are in an art gallery in Sausalito, a jewelry store in Amsterdam or glass shop on Murano, the pitch is always the same. They come on aloof and sophisticated. They subtly imply that any talk of cost is distasteful and marks you as a middle class clod. Then the capper - they say how an obviously erudite and cultured person like yourself *deserves* to have the piece. At that point, I am always tempted to wipe my nose with my sleeve to disabuse them of any idea that I might be erudite and cultured. Still, there was some beautiful stuff. Next time the Vanderbilt's come to dinner, I'll have to get some to impress them.
We crossed the bridge and walked around the outside of the church for while before heading toward vaporetto stop. All in all, Murano is OK, no more. It's like a photocopy of a photocopy of Venice. There really isn't much reason to go over when you've got there the real thing right there on the other side of the lagoon. There are plenty of glass stores in town.
We had considered going on to Burano and Torchello, but it much farther and extra time would consume most of our last day on the trip. Combined with the time lost on the wrong vaporetto and our lukewarm impressions of Murano, we concluded that the best way to spend our limited time was back in town. We took the next vaporetto back to Fondamenta Nuova.
We had enjoyed walking the back streets on the way to the vaporetto stop on Fondamenta Nuova, so we decided just to wander through the back streets toward St. Mark's to see the basilica. We started down the fondamenta and turned right at the big hospital into the maze. I have often heard people say that exploring the back streets of Venice a good way to spend your time, but I was skeptical. However, I became a true believe and found it highly enjoyable. You just meander through the decaying labyrinth of almost deserted narrow lanes, by the little canals and over the bridges. Sometimes you turn a corner and there is suddenly a restaurant with tables so far out on quayside, that you wonder why the diners don't accidentally fall into the canal when they get up to go to the bathroom. We wished that we had another day to really go off and explore the farther periphery of the city.
Eventually we came to the large Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, next to the church of the same name. It was break time, so we stopped at an outdoor cafe for a rather indifferent spritzer. There we were, dink in hand near a canal sitting in the shadow of the impressive, ornate church facade. Ah, another classic Venice experience.
After finishing our drinks, we navigated over to see St. Mark's basilica. OK, it's another church type place, but it is unique in ways I hadn't appreciated last time. On a trip a to Istanbul a few years ago, we discovered that the Turks had obliterate every trace of the Byzantines, except for a few frescoes at Hagia Sophia and the Chora church. If you want to see any of Byzantium today, St Mark's is where you go because it is haphazardly decorated with spoils that Venetians looted from Constantanople. Doge Enrico Dandelo blackmailed the fourth crusade into sacking Constantanople, sending it into a death spiral which culminated in the demise of Roman Empire after 2000 years. Joining in the fun, the light-fingered Venetians helped themselves to goodies like relief sculptures and columns, the four bronze horses (copies outside and the real ones inside) and the tetrarchs, all currently residing in or on St. Mark's. I wonder what Diocletian would say today upon fining himself stuck to the side of a cathedral. He'd probably make like an amoeba and Split.
We got into the long line, which proceeded to move surprisingly fast. That should have put up a red flag. When we came to the head of the line, the guard stopped us. We couldn't go in with our little backpack that we carry for guidebooks, maps and the like. Nevermind that women with purses double the size went straight in. It was just another example of the illogic of the security mad mindset that is taking over our lives. The guard told us that the backpack had to be checked and pointed vaguely around the corner. He then directed me stand off to the side in a shorter line with others who had committed the same offense. Meanwhile, my wife went to check the pack. Time passed and I wondered what had happened to her. She returned after a long while. There were no signs or directions saying which was the correct building, so she had difficulty finding it. Now we were allowed in quickly, as the offender's line was relatively short.
When we visited the basilica 10 years ago, you simply went in and walked all around anywhere for as long as you wanted. The lights were on and you could really appreciate the mosaics. You could go upstairs to see the horses and walk out on the balcony to view the piazza. Now everything was different. The lights were dim, making the place rather gloomy. Instead of being able to walk around, you had to follow this cordoned-off corridor that only let you enter a little way into the building. This is why the line was fast moving. No one was spending a lot of time, since you couldn't walk around. Upon leaving, we spied the steps up to the horses and balcony. They now charge 5 euros. This was also new. I suppose that if you have never been to St. Mark's basilica before, it might all seem OK. Compared to expectations from our previous trip, however, it was all a major drag.
For dinner, we did something that we seldom do - go for atmosphere over food. We scraped our original plan to try La Vedova and decided that the best way to end the trip would be a dinner out by the Grand Canal. We were well aware that such places are known for high prices and mediocre food, but we can get good food anywhere, at least theoretically. Only Venice has the ground Grand Canal.
We crossed over the Rialto and stopped for a glass of wine, standing outside at Osteria Bancogiro. Looking through the bar area, we could see that they had tables out on a large quay area by the canal. Unfortunately, dinner was fairly pricey, so we sought solace elsewhere. We noticed a place called Caffe Vergnano two doors down. Looking through the dining room, we could see that they had tables out on the same quay adjacent to the canal. Better yet, the prices seemed quite reasonable. We went in and got ourselves a table out on the quay. I scrutinized the menu. After seeing all those pigeons in the piazza, I had resolved never to order chicken anywhere in Venice. I would be like buying gribenes from a mohel. Instead, I went with a classic Venice meal of baccala and polenta with a glass of Soave. The baccala was coarse and the thin slice of polenta was bland. My wife's seafood pasta was OK, I suppose. But the food wasn't the point. Here we were sitting, glass of wine in hand, out by the Grand canal watching the gondolas glide by and surrounded by the palazzi with their desaturated colors and their characteristic spikey, arched windows. Not a car, MacDonald's or high-rise condominium in sight. It was fabulous.
It was time to initiate our plan for ending the trip on a high note. We walked over to St. Mark's to see it lit up at night. It was just getting dark as we entered the square. We first strolled out on Riva degli Schiavoni along the lagoon behind the piazza. We watched the Church of San Giorgio Maggiore and St Maria of Salute glowing across the water in the deepening twilight. A full moon shining over them splashed its reflection across the lagoon to our feet. After reaching the first bridge, we turned around and went back along the shore. Just as we turned left in to the piazza, an orchestra outside one of the cafes was playing the last few bars of Nella Fantasia. We stopped and listened while they started up again with Nessun Dorma. As the singer's words filled the square and enthralled the small crowd, I looked up at the sky. It was not quite full dark, and the remaining twilight had turned the clouds a luminescent pale blue. When the song was over, we wandered further back into the main part of the squares past Florian's. As we walked along the piazza lights shone, and the music from their other outdoor orchestra drifted through the air. It was our purest, smoothest dream of Venice. It was how we wanted it would be. It was how we planned it to be. I couldn't imagine a travel moment any better than this.
If only our trip had ended at that moment. We still had to get home.
Friday, the final installment. The trek home and why St. Francis of Assisi may have had it right all long.
We strolled down Strada Nuovo and turned right up toward Fondamenta Nuova, the Ulmon map guiding us flawlessly. A #42 was just about to depart, so we hopped on board. After two stops, I noticed that we were hugging the shore and not heading out across the lagoon. By the third stop, it was clear that we were going in the wrong direction. We disembarked and then took the next vaparetto going the other way. Back at Fondamenta Nuova, I tried to figure out what had happened. Did the #42 go one way and the #41 the other? The departure signs were thoroughly confusing and no help at all. Eventually I realized that the boats must go in a circular route and not simply out to Murano, Burano, Torchello and back. We finally found the right #41 by asking various people standing in various lines until we found some going to Murano.
We dismbarked at the first stop on Murano. The place looked exactly as you might expect a suburb of Venice to look - Venice light. It had similar architecture, but was quieter and more open and more sedate. I half expected to see an Applebee's and a mall with unruly teenagers running around Venetian versions of The Gap, Sears, Yankee Candle, etc. We strolled along the quay but didn't cross the bridge to where the big glass factories are located. We thought that we'd hit them on the way back, but we didn't, since we later caught a boat at the other end of the islands. There were numerous glass stores, ranging very expensive artsy to (not so) cheap trinkets, which often were actually interesting and tempting.
We stopped at some of the expensive places to see the more elegant pieces. The experience confirmed my belief that somewhere in the world there is a single school that teaches people how to be high-end salesmen and then sends them out all over the world. Whether you are in an art gallery in Sausalito, a jewelry store in Amsterdam or glass shop on Murano, the pitch is always the same. They come on aloof and sophisticated. They subtly imply that any talk of cost is distasteful and marks you as a middle class clod. Then the capper - they say how an obviously erudite and cultured person like yourself *deserves* to have the piece. At that point, I am always tempted to wipe my nose with my sleeve to disabuse them of any idea that I might be erudite and cultured. Still, there was some beautiful stuff. Next time the Vanderbilt's come to dinner, I'll have to get some to impress them.
We crossed the bridge and walked around the outside of the church for while before heading toward vaporetto stop. All in all, Murano is OK, no more. It's like a photocopy of a photocopy of Venice. There really isn't much reason to go over when you've got there the real thing right there on the other side of the lagoon. There are plenty of glass stores in town.
We had considered going on to Burano and Torchello, but it much farther and extra time would consume most of our last day on the trip. Combined with the time lost on the wrong vaporetto and our lukewarm impressions of Murano, we concluded that the best way to spend our limited time was back in town. We took the next vaporetto back to Fondamenta Nuova.
We had enjoyed walking the back streets on the way to the vaporetto stop on Fondamenta Nuova, so we decided just to wander through the back streets toward St. Mark's to see the basilica. We started down the fondamenta and turned right at the big hospital into the maze. I have often heard people say that exploring the back streets of Venice a good way to spend your time, but I was skeptical. However, I became a true believe and found it highly enjoyable. You just meander through the decaying labyrinth of almost deserted narrow lanes, by the little canals and over the bridges. Sometimes you turn a corner and there is suddenly a restaurant with tables so far out on quayside, that you wonder why the diners don't accidentally fall into the canal when they get up to go to the bathroom. We wished that we had another day to really go off and explore the farther periphery of the city.
Eventually we came to the large Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, next to the church of the same name. It was break time, so we stopped at an outdoor cafe for a rather indifferent spritzer. There we were, dink in hand near a canal sitting in the shadow of the impressive, ornate church facade. Ah, another classic Venice experience.
After finishing our drinks, we navigated over to see St. Mark's basilica. OK, it's another church type place, but it is unique in ways I hadn't appreciated last time. On a trip a to Istanbul a few years ago, we discovered that the Turks had obliterate every trace of the Byzantines, except for a few frescoes at Hagia Sophia and the Chora church. If you want to see any of Byzantium today, St Mark's is where you go because it is haphazardly decorated with spoils that Venetians looted from Constantanople. Doge Enrico Dandelo blackmailed the fourth crusade into sacking Constantanople, sending it into a death spiral which culminated in the demise of Roman Empire after 2000 years. Joining in the fun, the light-fingered Venetians helped themselves to goodies like relief sculptures and columns, the four bronze horses (copies outside and the real ones inside) and the tetrarchs, all currently residing in or on St. Mark's. I wonder what Diocletian would say today upon fining himself stuck to the side of a cathedral. He'd probably make like an amoeba and Split.
We got into the long line, which proceeded to move surprisingly fast. That should have put up a red flag. When we came to the head of the line, the guard stopped us. We couldn't go in with our little backpack that we carry for guidebooks, maps and the like. Nevermind that women with purses double the size went straight in. It was just another example of the illogic of the security mad mindset that is taking over our lives. The guard told us that the backpack had to be checked and pointed vaguely around the corner. He then directed me stand off to the side in a shorter line with others who had committed the same offense. Meanwhile, my wife went to check the pack. Time passed and I wondered what had happened to her. She returned after a long while. There were no signs or directions saying which was the correct building, so she had difficulty finding it. Now we were allowed in quickly, as the offender's line was relatively short.
When we visited the basilica 10 years ago, you simply went in and walked all around anywhere for as long as you wanted. The lights were on and you could really appreciate the mosaics. You could go upstairs to see the horses and walk out on the balcony to view the piazza. Now everything was different. The lights were dim, making the place rather gloomy. Instead of being able to walk around, you had to follow this cordoned-off corridor that only let you enter a little way into the building. This is why the line was fast moving. No one was spending a lot of time, since you couldn't walk around. Upon leaving, we spied the steps up to the horses and balcony. They now charge 5 euros. This was also new. I suppose that if you have never been to St. Mark's basilica before, it might all seem OK. Compared to expectations from our previous trip, however, it was all a major drag.
For dinner, we did something that we seldom do - go for atmosphere over food. We scraped our original plan to try La Vedova and decided that the best way to end the trip would be a dinner out by the Grand Canal. We were well aware that such places are known for high prices and mediocre food, but we can get good food anywhere, at least theoretically. Only Venice has the ground Grand Canal.
We crossed over the Rialto and stopped for a glass of wine, standing outside at Osteria Bancogiro. Looking through the bar area, we could see that they had tables out on a large quay area by the canal. Unfortunately, dinner was fairly pricey, so we sought solace elsewhere. We noticed a place called Caffe Vergnano two doors down. Looking through the dining room, we could see that they had tables out on the same quay adjacent to the canal. Better yet, the prices seemed quite reasonable. We went in and got ourselves a table out on the quay. I scrutinized the menu. After seeing all those pigeons in the piazza, I had resolved never to order chicken anywhere in Venice. I would be like buying gribenes from a mohel. Instead, I went with a classic Venice meal of baccala and polenta with a glass of Soave. The baccala was coarse and the thin slice of polenta was bland. My wife's seafood pasta was OK, I suppose. But the food wasn't the point. Here we were sitting, glass of wine in hand, out by the Grand canal watching the gondolas glide by and surrounded by the palazzi with their desaturated colors and their characteristic spikey, arched windows. Not a car, MacDonald's or high-rise condominium in sight. It was fabulous.
It was time to initiate our plan for ending the trip on a high note. We walked over to St. Mark's to see it lit up at night. It was just getting dark as we entered the square. We first strolled out on Riva degli Schiavoni along the lagoon behind the piazza. We watched the Church of San Giorgio Maggiore and St Maria of Salute glowing across the water in the deepening twilight. A full moon shining over them splashed its reflection across the lagoon to our feet. After reaching the first bridge, we turned around and went back along the shore. Just as we turned left in to the piazza, an orchestra outside one of the cafes was playing the last few bars of Nella Fantasia. We stopped and listened while they started up again with Nessun Dorma. As the singer's words filled the square and enthralled the small crowd, I looked up at the sky. It was not quite full dark, and the remaining twilight had turned the clouds a luminescent pale blue. When the song was over, we wandered further back into the main part of the squares past Florian's. As we walked along the piazza lights shone, and the music from their other outdoor orchestra drifted through the air. It was our purest, smoothest dream of Venice. It was how we wanted it would be. It was how we planned it to be. I couldn't imagine a travel moment any better than this.
If only our trip had ended at that moment. We still had to get home.
Friday, the final installment. The trek home and why St. Francis of Assisi may have had it right all long.
Oct 21st, 2014, 03:57 AM
#176
Carfree - I'm so glad that your last day in Venice was so lovely, especially the evening. Venice can be quite magical at night, which is missed by the day-trip brigade of course.
I hate to tell you this, however, but if you'd stayed on the first vaporetto, you'd have ended up at Burano and Torcello which IMHO are much nicer than Murano - the mosaics in the ancient Basilica on Torcello should definitely be seen on any trip to Venice and the multi-coloured houses on Burano are delightful.
Perhaps next time.
I hate to tell you this, however, but if you'd stayed on the first vaporetto, you'd have ended up at Burano and Torcello which IMHO are much nicer than Murano - the mosaics in the ancient Basilica on Torcello should definitely be seen on any trip to Venice and the multi-coloured houses on Burano are delightful.
Perhaps next time.
Oct 24th, 2014, 03:42 AM
#177
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I don't know whether our trip home is case of friction, which after all is an unexpected disparity between plans and reality. When dealing with the airlines, everyone knows that plans are meaningless and no rational person expects them to succeed. The question isn't whether they are going screw you up, but rather how. I'll Admit that Alitalia at least came up a creative new one.
We took the vaporetto the goes straight to the airport. Going by water is a nice way to end a Venice trip, although there is a bit of a walk from the dock to the terminal. We caught our flight to Rome for the connection home with no problems. Upon landing, however, friction began almost immediately. I had allowed a four hour layover at FCO to be safe and because I had an Airport Angel pass. We could go to their lounge, where we would have a nice comfortable, leisurely wait while stuffing ourselves with food and drink. Unfortunately, the lounge was located at the distant end of the airport and outside of security. Since going through security once a day is sufficient, and since we wanted to take no risks about our connection, we reluctantly passed on the lounge. Instead, we went straight over to duty free for last minute shopping. It was unsurprisingly uninteresting, since the big international conglomerates run duty free everywhere these days, so there is the same junk everywhere. The best we could do is to save a few bucks on the same liquor we could get at home.
We headed down toward the boarding area to sit and to wait for the flight. The boarding area served several gates, so there were a lot of people. The airport had thoughtfully provided only enough seats for about a third of the passengers, so we had to stand for an hour. They finally called our flight, and we got in line, which moved unaccountably slowly. After standing for yet another 45 minutes, we got to the front and showed our boarding passes. We were then hustled out to a bus packed so tightly that we couldn't raise our arms and driven away from the terminal and out to the middle of the tarmac where the plane awaited. With no jetway, passengers, including some very old ones, had to drag their bags up a long stairway to jumbo jet's door. It was like being in a 1950's newsreel. I half expected to see Ike emerge from the top and wave to the crowd.
Now the real fun began. Once on board, we discovered that many of the passengers, my wife included, had boarding passes for seats that did not exist. Alitalia had changed planes at the last minute to one with a different seating configuration. Somehow, all B and F seats had disappeared, so those passengers were seatless. They had handed out new boarded passes to some people as they arrived at the head of the line, which is why the line moved so slowly. For some unaccountable reason, they had missed a good portion of the passengers. Many of the new passes also separated people traveling together. The next several hours were a running battle among the flight staff, couples who didn't want to be assigned seats apart and obstinate passengers who simply refused to move to a new assigned seat. Tempers were near boil, and it was not pretty. Eventually, it got sorted out, and we took off several hours late. As a final cherry on top, the delay meant that we arrived smack in the middle of rush hour, so we got to spend another hour sitting in bumper-to-bumper freeway traffic on the way home from the airport. It was an aggravating, and yet somehow fitting, end to the trip.
When we arrived at our house, we practically crawled up the front steps. I put the key in the latch, turned the knob and pushed the door open. Our cats walked right by us without acknowledging our existence. They stopped at their dishes and finally deigned to looked up at us. Their expressions said, "Well, where's dinner?", as if we had just gone out for a quart of milk. I was filled with envy. Cats don't have plans so they don't have friction.
Epilog
The military guys are right. No plan survives first contact with reality, whether it be war or travel. This trip made the point in the extreme. There is no virtue in being a "glass is an eight full" kind of guy. The best you can do, with the distance and perspective of time, is to laugh about it. But I leave the art of denial to others. That is why I have reported the trip as it actually occurred, friction and all. Maybe it will encourage others to come out of the closet.
I started out to write a simple trip report, albeit somewhat satirical of all those reports about perfect trips. It was intended primarily to keep the memory of the trip from fading away. But I am again reminded that writing is like life. When you start out, you really don't know exactly know the direction it will go despite efforts to keep it on the desired course. I certainly never expected to write a trip report that was so long and detailed. Maybe I just needed the catharsis. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse not to do real work. I certainly didn't do it for fame and fortune, as it will doubtless soon disappear into the depths of the Fodor's forum rat hole, pressed down by the weight of lazy posts asking "Can anyone recommend a good hotel Rome?" for the 1000th time.
In reading back over it, however, I thought of two things that I should say in ending. First, the trip wasn't quite as bad as it came out on the page. We enjoyed being on the Amalfi Coast, sitting out at Sorrento and are even glad we went to Pompeii, although it wasn't what you would call fun. We liked Verona very much and well, Venice is Venice. Despite the friction, these are simply nice places to be. The overall experience is more than the sum of the parts. On the other hand, don't even want to talk about Rome. To me, it will always be "The Infernal City."
Second, this was not a typical trip. All trips have their friction, but we've never experienced anything like this before. (Except the airline part. I've got much better airline horror stories than the Alitalia flight. I'll bet you do, too.) Sure, things are delayed and closed, some meals aren't always so great, trains are delayed and weather may not be perfect, etc. But we've never had so much go so wrong, at least since we smartened up an quit trying to drive in Europe. (I've got driving in Europe stories that make Rome look like a walk in the park.) And we've certainly never before got anywhere near to the point of calling the airline to see if we could cut the trip short and return home immediately.
However, I've have also considered another, alternative explanation as to why this trip seemed so rough. The culprit is the internet, as it so often is. It is now possible to get so much detailed information that you have the illusion that equally detailed planning is possible. Maybe the problem isn't friction so much as excessive optimism, or as it is sometime called, hubris. Maybe I just didn't create such detailed plans way back when. I just went with only a rough idea of what they were going to do. I suspect that this is part, but not, the whole answer. I didn't decorate the Amalfi Coast with chunks or suffer heat exhaustion in Rome because of the internet.
Anyway, we are deciding on where to go for our next trip. We thought about going back to Hawaii, because it is inherently a very low friction place. It's hard to have friction when the weather is 80 +/3 degrees every single day of the year and when there are no plans to make because there is nothing to do but lie on the beach and throw umbrella drinks down your throat. The only problem is that paradise gets very boring after a few days, which is why I have always come back to Europe.
Wherever we go, I'm faced with the big question: What have I learned about friction from our little jaunt to Italy? Maybe next time I should follow the lead of St. Francis of Assisi. He would start the day by going out into the woods and spinning around until he was so dizzy that he'd fall down. Then he'd just go off whatever direction his head was pointed. No, I'm not making this up. He claimed that he did this on theological grounds. The church preached that god predetermined everyone's destiny. St. Francis logically concluded that the humans plans must be an attempt to contradict god's will, so the only pious way to live was to have no plans. OK, he probably never flew Alitalia or blew chunks on along the Amalfi coast, but I can't help wondering if this was just a cover story and the truth is that he simply got tired of the constant friction. Either way, he might have been on to something.
On the other hand, I do know one thing for sure. If Eisenhower had experienced as much friction in France as we did in Italy, then we'd all be speaking German right now. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Tschüss
We took the vaporetto the goes straight to the airport. Going by water is a nice way to end a Venice trip, although there is a bit of a walk from the dock to the terminal. We caught our flight to Rome for the connection home with no problems. Upon landing, however, friction began almost immediately. I had allowed a four hour layover at FCO to be safe and because I had an Airport Angel pass. We could go to their lounge, where we would have a nice comfortable, leisurely wait while stuffing ourselves with food and drink. Unfortunately, the lounge was located at the distant end of the airport and outside of security. Since going through security once a day is sufficient, and since we wanted to take no risks about our connection, we reluctantly passed on the lounge. Instead, we went straight over to duty free for last minute shopping. It was unsurprisingly uninteresting, since the big international conglomerates run duty free everywhere these days, so there is the same junk everywhere. The best we could do is to save a few bucks on the same liquor we could get at home.
We headed down toward the boarding area to sit and to wait for the flight. The boarding area served several gates, so there were a lot of people. The airport had thoughtfully provided only enough seats for about a third of the passengers, so we had to stand for an hour. They finally called our flight, and we got in line, which moved unaccountably slowly. After standing for yet another 45 minutes, we got to the front and showed our boarding passes. We were then hustled out to a bus packed so tightly that we couldn't raise our arms and driven away from the terminal and out to the middle of the tarmac where the plane awaited. With no jetway, passengers, including some very old ones, had to drag their bags up a long stairway to jumbo jet's door. It was like being in a 1950's newsreel. I half expected to see Ike emerge from the top and wave to the crowd.
Now the real fun began. Once on board, we discovered that many of the passengers, my wife included, had boarding passes for seats that did not exist. Alitalia had changed planes at the last minute to one with a different seating configuration. Somehow, all B and F seats had disappeared, so those passengers were seatless. They had handed out new boarded passes to some people as they arrived at the head of the line, which is why the line moved so slowly. For some unaccountable reason, they had missed a good portion of the passengers. Many of the new passes also separated people traveling together. The next several hours were a running battle among the flight staff, couples who didn't want to be assigned seats apart and obstinate passengers who simply refused to move to a new assigned seat. Tempers were near boil, and it was not pretty. Eventually, it got sorted out, and we took off several hours late. As a final cherry on top, the delay meant that we arrived smack in the middle of rush hour, so we got to spend another hour sitting in bumper-to-bumper freeway traffic on the way home from the airport. It was an aggravating, and yet somehow fitting, end to the trip.
When we arrived at our house, we practically crawled up the front steps. I put the key in the latch, turned the knob and pushed the door open. Our cats walked right by us without acknowledging our existence. They stopped at their dishes and finally deigned to looked up at us. Their expressions said, "Well, where's dinner?", as if we had just gone out for a quart of milk. I was filled with envy. Cats don't have plans so they don't have friction.
Epilog
The military guys are right. No plan survives first contact with reality, whether it be war or travel. This trip made the point in the extreme. There is no virtue in being a "glass is an eight full" kind of guy. The best you can do, with the distance and perspective of time, is to laugh about it. But I leave the art of denial to others. That is why I have reported the trip as it actually occurred, friction and all. Maybe it will encourage others to come out of the closet.
I started out to write a simple trip report, albeit somewhat satirical of all those reports about perfect trips. It was intended primarily to keep the memory of the trip from fading away. But I am again reminded that writing is like life. When you start out, you really don't know exactly know the direction it will go despite efforts to keep it on the desired course. I certainly never expected to write a trip report that was so long and detailed. Maybe I just needed the catharsis. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse not to do real work. I certainly didn't do it for fame and fortune, as it will doubtless soon disappear into the depths of the Fodor's forum rat hole, pressed down by the weight of lazy posts asking "Can anyone recommend a good hotel Rome?" for the 1000th time.
In reading back over it, however, I thought of two things that I should say in ending. First, the trip wasn't quite as bad as it came out on the page. We enjoyed being on the Amalfi Coast, sitting out at Sorrento and are even glad we went to Pompeii, although it wasn't what you would call fun. We liked Verona very much and well, Venice is Venice. Despite the friction, these are simply nice places to be. The overall experience is more than the sum of the parts. On the other hand, don't even want to talk about Rome. To me, it will always be "The Infernal City."
Second, this was not a typical trip. All trips have their friction, but we've never experienced anything like this before. (Except the airline part. I've got much better airline horror stories than the Alitalia flight. I'll bet you do, too.) Sure, things are delayed and closed, some meals aren't always so great, trains are delayed and weather may not be perfect, etc. But we've never had so much go so wrong, at least since we smartened up an quit trying to drive in Europe. (I've got driving in Europe stories that make Rome look like a walk in the park.) And we've certainly never before got anywhere near to the point of calling the airline to see if we could cut the trip short and return home immediately.
However, I've have also considered another, alternative explanation as to why this trip seemed so rough. The culprit is the internet, as it so often is. It is now possible to get so much detailed information that you have the illusion that equally detailed planning is possible. Maybe the problem isn't friction so much as excessive optimism, or as it is sometime called, hubris. Maybe I just didn't create such detailed plans way back when. I just went with only a rough idea of what they were going to do. I suspect that this is part, but not, the whole answer. I didn't decorate the Amalfi Coast with chunks or suffer heat exhaustion in Rome because of the internet.
Anyway, we are deciding on where to go for our next trip. We thought about going back to Hawaii, because it is inherently a very low friction place. It's hard to have friction when the weather is 80 +/3 degrees every single day of the year and when there are no plans to make because there is nothing to do but lie on the beach and throw umbrella drinks down your throat. The only problem is that paradise gets very boring after a few days, which is why I have always come back to Europe.
Wherever we go, I'm faced with the big question: What have I learned about friction from our little jaunt to Italy? Maybe next time I should follow the lead of St. Francis of Assisi. He would start the day by going out into the woods and spinning around until he was so dizzy that he'd fall down. Then he'd just go off whatever direction his head was pointed. No, I'm not making this up. He claimed that he did this on theological grounds. The church preached that god predetermined everyone's destiny. St. Francis logically concluded that the humans plans must be an attempt to contradict god's will, so the only pious way to live was to have no plans. OK, he probably never flew Alitalia or blew chunks on along the Amalfi coast, but I can't help wondering if this was just a cover story and the truth is that he simply got tired of the constant friction. Either way, he might have been on to something.
On the other hand, I do know one thing for sure. If Eisenhower had experienced as much friction in France as we did in Italy, then we'd all be speaking German right now. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Tschüss
Oct 24th, 2014, 08:06 AM
#178
By my faith, it's a long-winded fellow you are.
Enjoyed it quite a bit.
“Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.”
-- JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit
Enjoyed it quite a bit.
“Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.”
-- JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit
Oct 24th, 2014, 08:15 AM
#179
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I agree all travel includes friction. In Italy you get an extra helping of friction. Things often go wrong in Italy and Italians are not good at fixing these problems. We've avoided Italy in recent years because of this. (And my husband is of Italian descent, with relatives there.) You should hear our story about driving in Rome.
But I'm ready to go back. It's just so beautiful, so much history, so much art.
I'm glad you've discovered the pleasures of wandering the back streets of Venice. Maybe that's the key to enjoying all Italian travel. Take it slow, avoid the main tourist sights, at least in season.
But I'm ready to go back. It's just so beautiful, so much history, so much art.
I'm glad you've discovered the pleasures of wandering the back streets of Venice. Maybe that's the key to enjoying all Italian travel. Take it slow, avoid the main tourist sights, at least in season.
Oct 24th, 2014, 08:58 AM
#180
well, friction or fiction I've enjoyed your travails, carfree, probably more than you did while you were experiencing them. A tranche of poetic licence is surely allowed and that has a long -pre-internet tradition. We have been incredibly fortunate in our air travels and most of our major problems have been self-inflicted, starting our first ever visit to North America by setting off from Toronto airport in the rush-hour with our then 12 month old DD in an insecure car seat in the back of the hire car and driving straight out onto an 18 lane highway. [it's probably more than 18 lanes now, given that she's 27]. Jetlag multiplied by sheer panic is not a good way to start a trip.
You've given us some vivid [some too much so!] pictures and I'll be happy to tag along next time - virtually of course.
You've given us some vivid [some too much so!] pictures and I'll be happy to tag along next time - virtually of course.
