We typically had missed our
train, so read up on Venice and its various tours while waiting for the
next one, booking a walking tour for that night.
Seasoned
as we were at this point with the Italian trains, we'd finally worked
out that they never ever check tickets. So we ran for our train and
daringly jumped on board last minute without visiting the kiosk first.
Unfortunately, Murphy's law was golden, and this was the only ticket
that got checked our whole trip. Slammed with a 15 euro fine. Ah well,
coulda been worse. Lesson learned.
We
spent the rest of the day wandering and getting lost. Venice is
beautiful and we just strolled around, pausing occasionally to pose
heroically, creep on English speaking tours, consume gelato, etc.
Now
I've noticed that when I'm travelling, I'll sometimes mistake a
complete stranger (likely from another country) with a friend or family
member. This had been happening t both of us constantly, but just near
piazza San Marco, we spotted him: our awesome housemate Matt Connor. In
Venice and he hadn't even told us. Ok, maybe not actually him, but
possibly his long lost twin, complete with tattoo sleeve. 278ers, appreciate:
That
mission accomplished, we returned to more heroic posing and faking
random accents, though my default (aka only reliable one) is Indian.
More reliable than my weird half-American accent these days actually.
Rain
was threatening, so we smugly nabbed prime spot at a restaurant's
covered terrace to wait it out. And wait more. Sub par meal finished and
faux pas cappuccino consumed (apparently bad taste to have a cappuccino
after your meal), it still hadnt rained. I stretched out that thimble
sized cappuccino, taking about half an hour to finish it, and we
realized we really couldn't hold out any longer, so left. As the rain
hit.
Luckily it didn't last
long, and we sat in the piazza waiting for our night tour while I called
my mama to wish her happy birthday. :)
Happy birthday, mama!! |
Matt
then reported that our night tour was only going to be us, and our charming
guide Andreas, a Venetian local, took us all around the city. One of my
favourite stories he told us was about a pre medieval revolutionary who
had planned to murder the ruler of Venice and all his men in the doges
palace in order to gain power. OK, I'll tell the story. At night, as the
man and his followers made their way down a narrow alley (now packed
with souvenir stands) they were found out, and a huge swordfight began.
An old woman peeked down from her window and nudged her mortar and
pestle off the sill, directly onto the revolutionary's head, killing him
and saving the city. The nameless old woman is immortalized with a
small statue, high on the wall where she once lived.
Andreas
also told us about the corruption among the city's gondoliers (you
needed millions of euros or the right connections to hold a coveted
license), showed us many hidden alleys and architectural curiosities,
including a graffiti man drawn in the 1700s and the houses of ancient
guilds, and generally was good fun to be around.
Our tour finished around midnight, and we grabbed one of the last trains back 'home.' Big day tomorrow.
Matt's attempt to right the most crooked doorway in the city |