Leaving the airport was an event in itself. I am staying in a different part of the city in an apartment that is new to me. The owner, Gloria, is American-born and married to an Italian, so making arrangements was very easy. They live in Rome but actually live here four months a year. It has promise, since someone actually dwells here, there will likely be more kitchen amenities than in a place where there are only temporary transients. The apartment is in Castello, near the Giardini (the gardens on the southern end of the city) and it promises to have none of the hustle and bustle of the more crowded parts of town.
I stopped at a counter to purchase a ticket on Alilaguna, the speedier water boat service. I asked the agent after she sold me the ticket, which was the quickest way to get to the boat. I was hoping against hope that the powers that be finally put in a shuttle down to the dock, rather than schlepping my bags 2/3 of a mile. The old terminal of the Marco Polo airport had the water taxi stops right outside, but the new terminal which opened about 6 years ago, has no such luck. There is always the promise of the start of a shuttle, but it hasn't come to pass yet. I'm sure there are a myriad of laws and unions and concessions to consider. Italy has vast amounts of red tape.
The agent said to go through the doors behind her, but I was "welcome to try the side of the building. There are no doors there, but you are welcome to try, madam." Oh, ha! You're making a funny at the expense of the tourist, how quaint. I told her "they took away my dynamite at Customs, but I'll remember that for on the way home." Smile faded. Not so cute now, are you miss lady?
I made it down the walkway with bags in tow, in about 10 minutes. The sky looked like it would burst open at any time. The boat was about to depart so I'm glad I made it; that would have been a 50 minute wait until the next departure.
The boat had around 25 passengers. I was taking it only to the Lido, and transferring onto a vaporetto, the regular waterbus. I had a phone number to call to meet a neighbor to get the keys, but nobody was answering the home phone or the cell. I made the switch of transport vehicles and tried the numbers again. I hadn't written down Gloria's number from the email, since she assured me Maria would be available to meet me. I got off the vaporetto at Giardini and tried again. No response. I knew the street and number of the apartment, maybe she was there waiting for me.
Excellent news, there are no bridges between the bus stop and the apartment. No need to hoist my bags, they were free to roll on their wheels. Small victories! The apartment is less than five minutes from the stop and easy to find.
Bad news, nobody at the apartment when I rang the bell. After 10 minutes or so, a lady came downstairs. I asked her if she was Maria. Scowl. "No. Are you the new tenant?" I told her I was, and she told me she lives upstairs from the apartment I am renting. And she launched into a ten minute litany of do's and don'ts. At least it was in English. I held my hand up after she had gone on for a while and asked her if she was here to give me the key. "No, but I expect you to be good while you are here. Gloria may rent to anyone on the street but this is my home." Oh, do you own the building? "No. And I don't have a key for you."
Damn. There's some history here obviously. She proceeded to instruct me on how to properly close the entry door to the building. Over and over again. "Pay attention to me!" after I made the mistake of looking away down the street to see if anyone could possibly be coming to save me from her. Hey, I'm not five. I get it.
She snapped her fingers at me. Yes! She did!
I could feel myself getting angry and I help up my hand again to let teacher know I was going to speak. In italian I said, "In nove anni di venire a Venezia non ho mai conosciuto una persona così incredibilmente odioso ed esigente fin dall'inizio. Tu non sai nemmeno di me e mi parli come questo! Si può lasciare in pace ora. Grazie."
Translation - In 9 years of coming to Venice I have never met anyone so incredibly obnoxious and demanding from the beginning. You do not even know me and yet to speak to me in such a way as this! You may leave me now. Thank you.
She was mighty surprised, turned on her heel and walked back inside. I would rather wait outside for six hours than hear that shrew in my face another 30 seconds. I heard a scuttling sound and saw a figure down the street coming toward me. I hoped this was Maria. And it was. She has mistaken the instructions from Gloria and thought to meet me at 12:30, off by an hour.
We got inside and I told her about my encounter. She says the woman tries to intimidate everyone who rents. Gloria owns the building and this woman does this? Whoa. But she'll never be able to get evicted. Weird laws make it so that people who lived in the building prior to ownership change have lots of rights, actually more power in the eyes of courts than the owners. Lots of squatters' rights in this country as well. If you're there more than 20 years you are pretty much the owner even though you're paying rent. Weird.
The apartment is lovely. There's no tv, but I will get over it. I can watch tv with Mamma and family. There is broadband internet, via an ethernet cable, which I promptly found doesn't work. It's squished flat from being pinched between the desk and the wall. I'm sure it's just those tiny wires inside that aren't happy. I can go get a replacement. In the meantime, I am poaching off an unsecured wireless signal. It's not the best, but I can manage.
Once I settled in and put my clothes away I tried calling Marco again. Being at the hospital it didn't surprise me that I kept getting the "sorry, try your call again" message because I was certain the phone was switched off. He answered and said he would call me in five minutes. He needed to get outside to talk.
The news was of the worst kind. Francesca is gone. She had been on life support and unresponsive. The tests that had been run showed no signs of any improvement would be expected. They waited three days and let her go. Marco said Chiara would be coming home with him & Mamma tomorrow.
It is incredibly sad, what this woman has gone through. She lost her husband to stomach cancer at 29 (Chiara was 8 at the time) and at 39 she is not here any longer. Now Chiara is not quite 18 and an orphan. Not really, since she has her uncle & grandmother, but will have to grow up very quickly now. Life turns on a dime.
He told me a little more about the accident. They were in the mountains, coming down on the icy highway when a car on the other side sideswiped them. She lost control of the car and they crossed over the line and crashed into the mountain, rolling the car too. Chiara was pinned in the passenger seat. Francesca was knocked out. People called for emergency vehicles, but being as far out of any town as they were, help didn't come for almost an hour. People got them both out of the car, and this is where the doctors said the most damage happened. It's possible that if she hadn't been moved by the samaritans she might have been better. Who knows? It also took an hour for emergency vehicles to get to them. That probably had a lot to do with it too.
He said he was not looking forward to going to the funeral directors tomorrow when they got back. Who would? He said she never woke up. She never got to say goodbye. I told him that he should know how close they were. She told him she loved him every time she spoke to him. She didn't need to say goodbye. In her way, she made sure Chiara was out of danger and she left us.
He rang off and I cried for a good while. These poor people. They are good, honest, faithful and hardworking people. I love them so and I don't know how to "fix" it.
The evening was pretty low-key. I went for dinner and stopped in at "the Consulate" (tm Mark Strange) to let them know I was there. Aldo and Serena greeted me with hugs and kisses. They didn't know I was coming. I scolded them for not watching my every move on Facebook and we laughed. Aldo said, "I have not see Marco in a few days. I am told there is something wrong in his family. Is it his mother?" I told Aldo the news, because I know they are on good terms and Marco wouldn't mind. They are shocked and didn't expect bad news to be about his sister instead of Mamma.
Tiziano is playing piano there this month. He dedicated "You've Got A Friend" to me and I couldn't keep my composure. I left after a bit and made the walk to the vaporetto to take me home. I wanted a good night's sleep for the tough day ahead of us all tomorrow.
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