I woke up early and had the breakfast buffet at the hotel’s adjoining restaurant – Le Achiugheta, translation: Sardines, which isn’t exactly appetizing for breakfast. No fear, none were being served for breakfast. I called Antonio to arrange the time for me to drop my things at the apartment on Campo San Barnaba, knowing that I would be braving the crowded vaporetto on the first weekend of Carnevale. He asked that I come at noon, so I really would be leaving my luggage for a few hours in the hotel holding area. First I needed to get it downstairs. It is much easier, because I stood at the top of the flight of steps and laid it on the backside and let go. Whoosh bump bump bump bump THUD to the bottom of the stairs. Four times. I felt relieved and giddy doing, all the while wondering if anything was broken, but the repacking I did made me confident that everything would be okay. After checking out and stowing the bag I went out into the streets to find the phone store and get more minutes added to my phone.
Returning to the Piazza San Marco it became very apparent that I was in a Venice very much different than I am used to. Masks and giant caricature hats are a staple on the souvenir carts but it was as if everyone in the town bought one of each and put them all on at the same time. But the amount people walking around were staggering. It was 10am and the piazzetta in front of the Doge’s Palace was wall to wall humans. I have been to Venice in the summer during the high season, but I learned to avoid the Piazza San Marco during the day when the daytrippers are in full effect. Seeing the teeming mass of humanity in front of me, and knowing that I needed to move my luggage from point A to point B made me wince. No matter what, I would have to move the 800 pounds of luggage over at least one bridge to get to the boat. I prefer to take a side street and move out onto the main drag to catch the boats. The idea of dragging luggage amongst thousands of people was not a happy thought.
So while I was picturing this in my head on the way back to the hotel I got caught in the crush on the Bridge of Sighs. There was a marching band playing but I couldn’t enjoy it because I had no breathing space. I don’t have a problem with confined spaces, and here I was in the open air trying not to hyperventilate pressed in with about 578 of my newest friends. Good thing the bridge is concrete and marble.
Grab the suitcase, haul it out onto the nearby backstreet and to the closest bridge, only to find there’s a gondolier hawking his ride and a giddy bunch of teenagers on the top of the bridge asking for pictures with their masks and facepainting and the “real live Venetian” – ugh. Please let me haul my luggage up these twelve steps and down again without getting caught up in your mess. One of my favorite phrases ever is that a woman who spends time with a gondolier has “hams over her eyes.” Gist of it – gondoliers are players and always on the make. Enough said. The girls were involved with their “me next” picture taking ecstasy to hear me saying “excuse me” over and over, and I ended up plowing onward over their feet. And no, I did not feel guilty. I had a momentary lapse of my love for the city and hated all of these people interloping on “my” town; mia bel Venezia.
After making my way to the boat and arriving at the apartment 15 minutes later I was finally free of the dreaded suitcase, whoo hoo! Antonio showed me the new amenities of the house, the wireless router, and we handled the paperwork of the deal, and then I headed back out into the throng.
The theme of Carnival this year is the Festival of the Senses. Each district is dedicated to smell, taste, sound, touch, sight or…imagination. There are six districts, so they needed that extra bit to make it round out. Santa Croce (smell) has scents pumped into the air. If it’s not bacon or chocolate I doubt it will hold my interest for long. Dorsoduro (my district) is sound, so music will play in the campo nightly. Castello is sight, and they have the dark dinner thing going on – it’s popular in major cities right now – dining with the absence of light to allow the others to take over. There are other activities of course, but these are highlights. I’m pleased my neighborhood is musically themed. I’d much rather have those than some smell that would drive me nuts.
Spent the afternoon doing the shopping, starting on a pot of soup and unpacking the suitcase. It was a relaxing day, and knowing I wasn’t doing anything special for dinner was relieving.
Valentine’s Day in an ultra-romantic city without Mark didn’t hold much interest for me. I planned on eating at home and waiting for morning to go pick up Charlene & Luke at the airport. I did stop in at “the Consulate” to say hello to my friends. The Europa & Regina Hotel is where the majority of my friends in Venice work. Mark calls it the Consulate because I can always be contacted through there when I am in town. I stop in at some point in the afternoon and have a coffee and hang out while my friends are working the bar. In the evening I have a nightcap of red wine and listen to whoever is playing the piano that night – and I’ve been known to sing with them too. So around 4pm I stopped in to say hello to Serena, and I finally made connections with Marco. He apologized for not meeting up with me Friday night and suggested that we do something for dinner instead, something simple like a pizza. After jokingly reminding him that it’s Valentine’s Day he asked if he should call Mark and ask his permission to dine with his wife on Santo Valentino. I assured him it was okay and we made plans to meet after work for a pizza near the Accademia.
Marco marveled at my method of luggage moving – both the skidding down the stairs and the foot trampling, and suggested that I not take up hotel porterage as a profession. Pizza eating completed, I headed home for the night and to wait until morning for my friends to arrive.
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