I woke early and was starving. I didn't made it to the market yesterday and the only thing I knew was in the cupboard was a bottle of Bardolino red wine. Not good for 7am. I opened the cabinets to make an inventory of anything available to me right now. Usually in rentals there is something left by previous tenants.
Bonus! There is an assortment of tea, three kinds of coffee, flour, sugar, a large assortment of spices, even pasta and rice. Multiple types of oils and vinegars. There are granulated broths for chicken, vegetable and beef. And croutons. Sweet! If I get locked in I can eat for a few days, no problem. The fridge has ground mustard, olives, capers and jam. In the cooler beneath the fridge was some leftover tuscan bread.
I made some tea with toast and jam and made a grocery list. While doing this I realized I should probably just concentrate on food for when the Marsons come home. I called Marco to see if he had an idea of when they would be back. They were going to run into logistics problems with Chiara immobilized in casts.
Plus there is a fout hour planned transportation strike Friday from 10am to 2pm. Labor unions periodically have these planned throughout the year to remind the public how much they are relied upon, however they do it most of the time so as not to hugely impact the general public. Kind of contradiction to say "hey you guys need us!" when you're striking after commute hours. If you really want to prove your point, do it on a Tuesday at 8am, why don't you?
Marco said she wouldn't be released until after 10, and he would get her back to Venice in his car. She could stretch out in the backseat. (Note, the car is pretty tiny, it's a Fiat, so there's not really any stretching out to be had.) I asked about how he would get her from the car park to the house when there's a strike on the vaporetto lines? Should I come in a hired taxi boat? Whatever he needed, I would help to accommodate. He said he had a friend with a boat who will help. I offered to bring groceries and have lunch ready for them, but I would need to get inside the house while they are out. He said he would call the neighbor to give me a key when I arrived. I made out a list for grocery and left to catch the vaporetto. I was hoping I was able to time it right to get to the store when it opened, shop and get back on the boat before they began the strike.
If you're on a vap at the time a strike starts, they take you to the next stop and dump you off. I wanted to at least be on Giudecca island when they did that. If on a train, they do the same or you can just sit it out. That suuuuucks. I have also heard that when Alitalia strikes and you are in the air at the appointed time, all flight attendant service stops - no food or drinks are distributed. At least the pilots keep flying the plane. If planning to come to Italy, it's a very good idea to check to see if a planned strike is happening during your stay. It makes it easier to plan your day. I've been in Venice during a planned strike a few times. One was a 24 hour strike general strike throughout the whole country, one was a 12 hour in Venice only, and now this, a 4 hour throughout the country. Tourists really freak out when they find they have to walk - oh the horror! It would be worth it to have a camera at the vap stop just to catch their disbelief. Even though there are signs in English telling the public about the coming strike, they aren't read I guess.
I decided I was going to the Co-op Supermarket at Piazzale Roma. It's the largest and opens the earliest, at 8am. It would be the easiest to go shop and then take a different vap route to Giudecca. All was going according to plan until I arrived there, and found I was off about when the store opened - 8:30. That meant I needed to shop quickly, my personal version of Supermarket Sweep, to get back out to the boat and safely arrive before strike time.
Mission accomplished in record time. I remembered at the last minute (while in line for the cashier) that it's now Lent, so no meat. I went back to the fish counter and remedied that, changing my menu. We have the makings for soups, polenta cakes, poached fish and vegetables. And chicken saltimbocca for Saturday.
I made it to their place well ahead of the strike kick-off, which made me happy. The neighbor let me have the key and I unpacked the goods and started to work on soup. It had started raining. The water was choppy and rough across the Giudecca Canal, causing the boat to list side to side. I was actually turning a bit green onboard and I don't usually get seasick.
Marco called at 12:30 to tell me they were on his friend's boat and almost there. It dawned on me that Chiara isn't going to be ready or possibly able to climb a flight of stairs with a cast on her right arm and right leg. She can't manage crutches right now. She's going to have to be carried up. I waited at the canal nearest the house and spied them pulling up. The boat was moored and Rigo (the boat owner) a giant bear of a man, swooped Chiara up in his arms and carried her like she was a baby up to the house. She was pretty sleepy and didn't really rouse during the transfer. Marco rearranged the couch to prop her leg up but she was too drowsy to notice.
Lots of hugs and kisses from Mamma for Rigo, and then she turned her attention on me. She looks so tiny and frail to me now. She's a robust woman, but it seems she has withered seemingly overnight. I'm sure she hasn't been eating during their time in Udine. Having sat at hospitals in vigil, I know it can be difficult to find something you want to eat, even if you have the appetite to do it. Marco is the one whose change alarmed me. Shell-shocked, that's the only way I can describe it. The ever-present happy glint in his eye is gone, he's pale and gaunt, no trace of smile in his face. This is not my friend in the way I've always known him.
I suggested they go change out of their clothes - they need to get the hospital off them - and I would get lunch served in a few minutes. Mamma came out first, she sat at the table with me and just put her hand on mine. There were no words, but I felt it all coming out of her anyway. She was still composed, but she did have tears in her eyes. She finally spoke and said, pointing her head down the hall toward Marco's room, "Si รจ rotto ora." He is broken now.
While the adults ate soup and bread I went to see if Chiara was hungry in the living room. I helped feed it to her; she was a bit discombobulated from medication and fell back asleep before finishing the bowl, but at least she had something in her now. Coming back into the kitchen Marco was on the phone with who I presumed was the funeral director. He hung up and explained that Francesca had contacted the funeral director a few years after her husband died and had made her wishes known to him, so the family wouldn't have to. They have her file in their office in the Cannaregio area of town. He didn't understand how she could have known it would be needed. I told him I think it's common for people in her situation to make provisions to make things easy for others. She had lost her husband very young so it's not so odd to think it could have happened to her also.
They left to go to the funeral office, once Mamma had found some pictures to bring with them. I would find out later that these were for the posters to be put up. In Italy, especially in cities like Venice, notices are posted around town (usually in close vicinty to the various parishes) to announce the services. They also still post marriage banns and graduation laureates. It's customary to have a picture of their communion or confirmation as well as a recent photo. For older folks I have only seen photos taken in their prime of life, as if they are only to be remembered of what they looked like at 30. The posters would be put up in Venice as well as in the town Francesca & Chiara live in on the mainland, Mogliano. Services will be at their parish in Venice, where she was baptized, took her first communion, confirmed and married -the Redentory Church on Monday morning with burial in the afternoon on the mainland in Portoguaro, where her husband and father are interred.
I stayed at the apartment with Chiara, who slept most of the time. When she did wake I got more food for her and adjusted pillows as necessary. We passed time by watching tv and she slept again.
Marco & Mamma arrived back home, and both looked completely wiped out. Mamma refused to lay down and get rest, she wants to be awake and around when Chiara is awake. I can see where this need comes from. She is a mother hen at heart, clucking about her charges. It's her role. Marco asked me if I wanted to step out for a walk to get gelato for Chiara. I know it's more for him than Chiara. We sat on a bench at a park nearby, in silence. I told him that I had told Aldo and Serena about the accident, briefly - no details. He said it was ok that I did that, considering they are all thinking it was his mother who was having the crisis. He started talking about all the work to be done, moving Chiara's belongings down to Venice and what to do about Francesca's things at the apartment in Mogliano. I told him he didn't need to do anything at that very minute. Yes, getting Chiara's things should be done soon, she needs clothes and her belongings around her for comfort, even if she is at Grandma's house. But packing everything up might be too difficult for him this soon. He agreed and said he would contact the landlord to see what could be worked out.
We followed through with getting gelato and went back to the house. Dinner was pretty silent. I can understand; and certainly don't expect to be entertained. They people are exhausted. I cleaned up afterward, despite Mamma's protests and headed out to leave them for the night. Marco walked me to the vap stop and waited with me. He momentarily returned to his normal self and joked about my method of cleaning versus his mother's. At least I know he's still in there somewhere, behind the grief. He told me he heard the Acqua Alta alert earlier so I would be arriving back to flooding. I didn't hear anything, but it was so far off I wouldn't be trained for it. He also said his phone gave him an alert. If you live in Venice I guess it's wise to sign up for that messaging service.
It was just past 10pm. I have never experienced the high water at night. I have only seen it in the mornings, so this was new. I also am in an area I am not used to, so I don't know every backstreet to take to avoid it. I walked from the Giardini and turned onto the riva (street alongside a canal) I would normally walk down, only to see it was at least 4 inches deep for at least two blocks down the way. I walked a block to the left and opted to take that route. I could see it was free of water all the way down. As I approached my block there were people standing outside a trattoria smoking and all were looking at me. Okay, I'm new to these parts, it's not a touristy section of town, I get it. But they were all looking at my feet. Two guys were taking bets if I'd ever be able to use those shoes again.
Oh crap. I'm not getting out of this without getting wet in some way. The water was about six inches deep when I turned on to the block of the apartment. There was about 100 yards between me and the end of the block, where the doorway was just around the corner. Suck it up, Kris, you're going to have to do this. I took my shoes off. I contemplated taking my tights off, but I didn't want to be stripping in the middle of the block where the folks could see me. And I waded in, slowly sloshing through the water. It was 5 or 6 inches in parts, and you could see in the moonlight that it was still flowing in, this wasn't where it was going to stop before receding back into the lagoon.
I made it to the door, I wasn't quite freezing, The water was almost warm, but I didn't want to hang out and play "Singin' in the Rain" out there either. Got inside the entry door (thank you neighbor-shrew for the detailed instructions) and upstairs. Washed the tights out thoroughly and hung them on the heated towel bar in the bathroom. By the way, that's the best invention EVER!!!!! Washed the feet extensively in the bidet. Yes it's uncouth, but I know the bowl was clean.
Who knows what's in that water outside? I probably have all kinds of beasties under my toenails. Yech.
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