It was taking a while for the luggage to start down the conveyors so I went over to the biglietto machine for a ticket to the Bus Terminal at Piazzale Roma. They've changed the machine since I was here in April - they have new codes for the different routes and it's overcomplicated even for those who can read Italian. I was trying to make sense of it and saw a couple behind me so I offered to step aside while I worked this out. They told me they were following my lead. I told them how it was different from only a few months ago and we will figure this out together. I figured that as long as I found a route and got a ticket that costs 3Euro I could argue my way onto the bus. It may say I'm going somewhere else, but I paid the correct fare. I'm sure the driver had heard many times already that people can't figure the machine out. But the ticket says 3Euro - you're in!
I bought mine, and then helped them with theirs. The tickets says from Marco Polo (the airport name, like LaGuardia or O'Hare) to the Venice Air Terminal. That makes no sense - so I had assumed they mean Bus Terminal. It remained to be seen. The couple asked if they could just follow me to the bus after we all found our luggage. I said they certainly could, but I needed to stop and get my vaporetto pass. I prepaid online and got a discount. While waiting for that we chatted; they both teach at Duke University. She (Susan Marks)instructs English Lit, he (Rob Marks) is in graduate studies for Sociology. I mentioned I knew someone who gone to grad school at Duke for Sociology in the mid-90s. After giving her name, it turns out he knows her. They still are in contact. It's A Small World After All!
We went out to queue up for the bus. There were about 45 German high school students in line ahead of us. I told my new friends we may not get on this bus but there would be another 15 minutes later. Then the entire German group walked off to another line - guess they had the wrong route. We moved up in line, anticipating the coach's arrival. Then the Germans returned - oops. Well, they forfeited their place in line. Just try getting past me and my linebacker shoulders, kiddos! The coach arrived, and I readied myself to explain the ticket - the Markses were right behind me, waiting to see if we would have a problem with the driver. And... the driver glanced at the ticket and said good morning, waving us aboard. Whoo hoo!
We talked all the way in to the islands; I gave them some recommendations on places to eat, and best times to see different venues. I found out where they were staying. A small hotel very near the bus station. I showed them by map the quickest way to get there, the least amount of schlepping the bags. The directions they had been given were a bit convoluted, but to a first-timer in the city it would be the best marked route. I wrote down directions for them and offered to show them the way. They declined, saying how much they appreciated how much time I had already spent with them. They told me they were spending five nights there in Venice and then moving on to Rome on Sunday to meet up with other people. They would be back in Venice a week later for a few days and then fly home. My ears pricked up at this information, I am leaving for Rome the same day (Sunday) - so I asked "Are you joining a tour in Rome or meeting friends?" A tour, it turns out. They would be in Rome three nights, then Florence for four nights and then back in Venice for three more nights, but at a much nicer hotel. "The Europa & Regina - do you know it?"
"I sure do, that's where I'm going right now."
So I had to ask - and they confirmed it. Yes, they are on MY tour. Very Small World!
I disclosed to them that I would be assisting the leader on their tour, and in full disclosure, I am interviewing for the tour leader position and this month is my proving ground. They told me the very first thing they would do is tell Frank, my interviewer, that I was most helpful even when not required. They couldn't wait to send a compliment to the tour company. In Rob's words: "They would be stupid not hire such a naturally friendly, knowledgeable and helpful person." Yay, me!
It just goes to show you that you never know who you're going to encounter at any given time.
I have one photo to share in today's missive. This gentleman was sitting in front of me on the bus from the airport. I was mesmerized by his hairpiece. Dude, blend your hair color. Seriously!
Eventually I got myself to the hotel. I'm not used to managing so much luggage. Ugh. I am dumping half of this as soon as I can. Either leaving it at the apartment I have access to or at the Marson house. There is no way I'm schlepping this up and down buses and train. Reassess the packing situation ASAP. I was given my room number, which I recognized - room number 110 - which was actually an upgrade from the closets they usually give tour leaders. It's customary for the hotels to give a complimentary (albeit tiny) room when a tour group is booked to the property. This was not one of those rooms; in fact it was the very room I first stayed in when I was on tour 8 years ago with my in-laws. It is right over the lobby, with a lovely balcony overlooking the courtyard in front of the hotel. I assumed it was because I was an add-on, but when I arrived in the room and found a bottle of wine from Giorgio (my "uncle" the bar/restaurant manager) and flowers with a note from Marco, I knew they had something to with the bigger room.
I had four hours before the group arrived so I struck out to the Marson house to go get blessed with Mamma. The last phone call with her & Marco was an indication that I needed to go with her to church immediately for the priest to bless my travels. Okay. I give myself over to your instructions, Mamma.
Hugs and kisses from her. Marco was sleeping last night's work off. We went off to church, I was given the attentive prayers of the priest. It was the same one I met for Francesca's and Chiara's funeral services. I guess I'm truly an honorary member of the family. He hugged me hello and goodbye, just like Mamma. Back at the house I had a brief lunch and took off to get back to the hotel. I left a note for Marco before going, saying thank you for whatever magic he worked in getting me a room upgrade. I would see him later that evening. He's on graveyard shift all week because the regular night concierge is on vacation.
The front desk called my room to alert me that the group was on the way from the train station. Another special notation Marco made in the book for me.
I met everyone at the back of the hotel (the entrance facing the Grand Canal) and helped everyone to the front desk to assist in checking-in. I made my introduction to Frank Heston, the tour leader, and was immediately comforted to see he's got that aging hippie look. White ponytail, three small earrings in his left ear. I had been worried I would have some guy with a three piece suit to deal with. He's warm and gregarious. I think we'll get on well.
After getting everyone settled, he and I went to the terrace to acquaint ourselves and conference for a while. It is an absolutely beautiful afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky, approximate temp of 75 with a slight breeze. Simply lovely. When Giorgio came out to the terrace to take our orders it was more than I could have hoped for. He hugged and kissed me, shook Frank's hand and sat with us for a few minutes. Giorgio told me he had been telling Frank about me for years; my love for Venice and all of Italy and how this is the perfect career for me. Giorgio was one of my references for getting this interview. He had written a wonderful letter of recommendation telling of how often I engaged guests of the hotel when visiting the bar. Make me blush! I told them about my encounter with the Marks couple and how eager they are to talk to Frank when they meet up with us in Rome.
Giorgio left to get our refreshments and Frank told me he had heard nothing but wonderful things about me from many people. He leaned in and told me I would have to do something really awful to screw this up. It's pretty much a given they'll offer me a position, but don't get complacent. He smiled wickedly. Yeah, I think we'll get on just fine.
I feel like I'm floating... my head may not fit through the door after this afternoon.
We met everyone in the courtyard at 5PM for a gondola ride, and upon return people went their separate ways for dinner on their own. I, of course, went to San Silvestro to see Francesco at his trattoria/pizzeria. Always the first restaurant I visit in Venice. I've written before about how much I love this man and his place and tonight's experience just solidifies everything all over again. I watched him move from table to table, putting his diners at ease, offering suggestions of their freshest fish dishes, the homemade pasta dishes, the light as air profiteroles for the dessert course. He brings out the limoncello and grappa and sits with the regular patrons for a few minutes. And periodically bursts into various operatic arias for no reason at all. He is a master of congeniality.
I made conversation with the couple dining next to me. They are from Idaho and retired in Texas now. He lived in the same town as my grand uncle in the 1970s, Darlington, ID and knows the family name - Van Etten. Small world all over the place. I gave them suggestions of their next day's activities and they were so appreciative they insisted on buying me lunch the next day, at Francesco's of course. We made plans so we could talk some more. A wonderful evening.
I made my way back to the hotel and spent a few minutes with Marco, who was now on duty. He let me in on a secret - he had changed my hotel guest profile to show I'm to be upgraded every time it's possible, for all the Westin/Starwoods. We stay in these hotels for all the cities we're in. If this happens, this will be sooo sweet!
Such a lovely day in what is quite possibly turning into a charmed life. I know things won't always be this easy and perfect, so I am savoring this.
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