Let’s start with this disclaimer:; What happens in Italy, STAYS in Italy. All agreed folks? What happens on Facebook (and Google blogger) stays there, and all in agreement, say Amen. AMEN!
Alright, so this morning the alarm goes off about 21 minutes after I got to bed since I stayed up all night at Oktoberfest and in the hotel bar with friends, however I have to get on the bus shortly, so I drag my butt out of the VERY nice bed they had in Hotel Ibis in Munich. But I have to get up, because this morning, we are on our way to VENICE baby, OMG.
I know my dear nephew Antonio would stay in Munich until Oktoberfest has tapped the final keg, but he would love Italy, so Tony, in my heart you a come witha me eh?
Before we leave Munich, we have some bread in the hotel restaurant, because that’s all they seem to eat in Europe for breakfast. We all jump on the bus and I get front row seat so I can see the land of my heritage as it draws near. After we leave Germany we quickly enter Austria, where my entire cultural experience is a rest stop with souvenirs, and the cleanest McDonalds I have EVER seen, hands down. After you flush the toilet, a thing comes out of the wall and sprays the seat and then the seat actually rotates around in a full circle, and a little seat dryer dries it off. Genius! Where can I get one for my house? While that is not representative of Austria (for those of you who are Austrian) I am never-the-less content with Austria for now. It looks a lot like Switzerland. Hope to return!
We journey to Italy and cross the border, pass the Dolomite mountains and stop at an Italian Trattoria that is expecting us. We eat several kinds of pizza and have 4 glasses of red wine. Well I did anyway. The wine was 1 euro per glass, so honestly, you have to have at least 4 right? I had to pee and went into the restroom to find it "co-ed." Me and a guy were in there. La Famiglia already apparently. This is Italy.
After the wine stops flowing, Janine, my tour mate helps me walk out of the restaurant since I can‘t see straight or walk a straight line, and we get back on the bus still heading to Venice. It's only fair with the drinking, cuz I'm making up for the beer I didn't drink at Oktoberfest while everybody else was appropriately hammered. Anyway, so back on the bus, Stephen plays music as we leave each city, so when we left Switzerland for example, we heard yodeling, when we left Germany we heard Oktoberfest music, and so forth. He also played a new pop single just released by his brother Davey, and it's called "Higher" and I love it immediately. I can't wait to get it on my iPod. Apparently the Blackwood kids are all talented. As we enter Italy, Stephen plays Vivaldi, and it is lovely. I look down and see him react as Vivaldi starts, and I recognize that Stephen is connecting to Vivaldi's genius. That happens between people with IQ's that high and the music is the wormhole through which they connect.
I spend a few hours on the bus editing photos, and we enter lots of rest stops. You never know what kind of toilet to expect, and it’s a challenge to figure out how to get the water to come on, the soap to come out, how to dry your hands, and whether or not there will be a humble lady in there you have to tip. At each rest stop I buy a local brand of cold coffee drink, similar to a bottled Frappuccino. Oh, you also never know what kind of money you need to pee, if there's a turnstile you put money in, or you put money in the door, or what. Very complicated going pee in Europe.
We eventually arrive at our destination and enter Venice on a vaporetto (a water taxi) to take us to the island. The weather is warm, and humid and raining lightly. The sky is dappled with grey and white cumulus clouds and the sun is yearning to break through. Once on board, a wild and sudden storm unleashes torrential rain and wind! In moments our group was soaked to the bone, and I’m not just talking about their clothes. I’m talking about their shoes, their luggage, the whole shebang. It was awesome! I loved it. I managed to stay dry because (as usual) I was wedged between all the tall people who took the beating. Now and then it pays to be short. Poor Anita is short too, but she gets the mini end of the stick and is one of the drenched. A few days later she will come down with a cold.
Port and starboard the vaporetto was tossing and turning! I was looking around for Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, it was that wild. A lady on the outer deck had her baby in a stroller and they got soaked and at one point, all 4 wheels of the stroller were off the ground. It was insane. The staff was unfazed. What an introduction to Venice! Bravo! I was enthralled, and taking it all in. La dolce Vita! Stephen yells over the roar "There's a rainbow! There's two rainbows!" He is also enthralled. His energy is so contagious. "Andiamo!" and we all exit, and he gives us 25 minutes to check in the hotel and meet again. There is a lot of grumbling from the drenched souls, so Stephen kindly extends it to 40 minutes.
After we get checked in to our beautiful little family run hotel, "Hotel Antigo Travotore" we get together and walk through the cobblestone alley ways, across the bridges, and through St Marks square in the moonlight, where there was music and people dancing, and the sky was dry and stars twinkling. We had a lovely dinner on an outdoor patio and more wine was flowing. We sit in groups of 4 or 5, and we always sit with anyone we want, and we are like a big family now. One of the ladies named Marilyn, who is drop dead gorgeous, has a birthday today so we all sing a loud round of "happy birthday" and the Italians clap and sway and make some noise. We toast Marilyn and a great dinner and eat tiramisu. Yum! Marilyn will never forget this birthday. I was so happy to share it with her and her husband Gary, who clearly adores her.
At St Mark's square, it is so romantic, and people are dancing and making out, and drinking, and walking hand in hand, and sitting in groups, and there is a sense of festivity and sensuality with the food, the wine, the dessert, the murano glass, the jewelry stores, all by moonlight. I felt lonesome for amore, since it seemed the perfect place to be in love. Instead I fell in love with some gelato, which wasn’t quite what I wanted, but it was still good. I did have a little sadness though tonight, like I did in Greece. But this time, my new friends grab me and make sure to cheer me up, and I'm not left sitting on some stone stairway with a golden retriever keeping me company, like in Athens.
At 12:30 am; I am sitting in my 3rd floor room on the bed, with the windows thrown wide open and the warm air drifting in. The bells of San Marco had just been chiming right outside my window. I am online working on my blog. Stephen's room is directly across the courtyard from mine and I hear his door open, the key thrown on the table and the light goes on then off. Then I hear his voice in the darkness calling "Buona Notte" to me. I look up but can't see him. "Buona Notte Caro" I reply. His window closes quietly and he's gone. I turn off my computer and the lights and look at the moon. I am in Venice and someone dear just said goodnight to me in Italian. It's not a dream, it's real.
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