Who said it could be March already? This trip is already feeling almost over - I just didn't realize how quickly six weeks could go by, but when I'm looking at a calendar and already have plans for trips to Rome and Florence coming up (after which I'll only have a week or so left before I fly home), it feels like time is just slipping away from me.
At any rate, Venice was amazing last week - despite the ferocious cold - and I can't stop thinking about that city. I can't quite put my finger on what it is about the place that so captivates me, although I keep trying. If I figure it out, I'll let you know. Until then, if I keep rhapsodizing about it, you'll have to forgive me.
Chris & I went to a dinner on Friday night which was organized partly by our friend Sara from Ms. Adventures in Italy. It was a "Girl Geek Dinner," though there were boys in attendance as well (no, Chris didn't have to wear a dress). We were both exhausted from the previous few days - Chris from prepping for and then teaching his second class here in Milan, me from a few whirlwind days in Venice and too-little sleep on Thursday night - so we weren't the social butterflies we might otherwise have been, but it was fun. We then kind of took Saturday off, sleeping in until something like 10:30 and doing not-much all day. We did go to our first Italian soccer game on Saturday night, which was fun - except my favorite guy didn't play (boo-hoo) and the home team just barely tied the game against a team they should have beaten. So, at least for me, I'm not really counting that game as having happened and I'm hoping we get to see another where my guy actually sets foot on the field. (Yes, that's more important than the team actually winning, at least in my book.)
Sunday we got up early-ish and caught the train to Turin (site of the 2006 winter Olympics) where we visited the final day of the Cioccolatò festival. It's a smaller chocolate festival than some others, including the big one in Perugia every October, but it was really fun - and the weather was spectacular. (That's a picture of chocolate "sausages" and chocolate "eggs" at the top of this post.) It was summer-like, and we both walked around in T-shirts, quite comfortably. After breathing in all the chocolate air, we wandered over to the museum of the Shroud of Turin for a tour and then headed back to Milan. It was a lovely day spent wandering around a lovely city. I'd be quite happy to spend more time in Turin, and if Chris found work there that'd be just fine with me.
So - if you check the Flickr set for this trip, you'll see I've added a whole bunch of new pictures, from Venice, the soccer game, and Turin. Chris has a bunch of sticky-notes on the wall next to our dining table/desk with things we want to do while we're here, and we've only completed two of the 12+ items on the list - so if all goes well, you'll have lots more photos to look through very soon.
Hope all's well with all of you!
Showing posts with label venice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label venice. Show all posts
04 March 2008
01 March 2008
Becoming a Regular
For some reason, when I travel I like to get it in my head that visiting the same (fill in the blank) twice in one visit makes me a regular. It could be a news stand, cafe, restaurant, clothing shop - whatever. If I go more than once I feel like there's the possibility I'll be recognized by the people working there from my previous visit, thereby making me a regular. It's a silly notion, but I cling to it and it makes me happy. Usually it's nothing more than an illusion, of course.
On this last trip to Venice, however, I think I became something more akin to a regular than I've ever managed to do on any other trips here or anywhere else. I went to the same restaurant two nights in a row, and because I was dining alone on both occasions I ended up chatting amiably both with the fellow running the tiny dining room (along with others who worked there) and some of the other diners. I'd introduced myself on the first night with my business card, and said I was a travel writer (long after I'd already ordered and eaten most of my meal, I should mention), and in so doing found my table crowded with tiny plates of samples of dishes I hadn't ordered. They called me Signorina Jessica all night long, and it was delightful. Was it anything more than them just being stereotypically flirty Italian men? Maybe not. And when you're traveling alone there are times when you just don't care about the "why," as long as someone is keeping you company.
When I went back the second night they recognized me and called me by name, which instantly made me smile. I let Stefano, the maitre-d' of sorts, order for me and didn't even end up reading much of the book I'd brought with me, because not long after I finished my first course, a pair of gentlemen arrived who were friends of the owners (they shouted "Il Sindaco!" - the mayor - when the two walked in, but I don't know which one they were referring to and it was a joke anyway) and were seated beside me. As he seated them, Stefano introduced them to me and told them in Italian to behave themselves (he then leaned in to me and said, in English, "But we can talk about them, because I don't think they speak English."). I chatted with them most of the evening, entirely in Italian, and had a wonderful time. Claudio, Giorgio and I talked about politics (both here in Italy and back in the US), music, travel and, most of all, Italy.
I had arrived on the second night later than on the first, and because things in Venice close up earlier than in most other touristy cities, I was there at 10:30 or 11 when the restaurant staff sat down in the other dining room to eat their dinner. I was there when they pulled down the metal gates outside the windows, and then - because Claudio and Giorgio had given me some of their wine (on top of the wine I'd ordered for myself) as well as a small glass (though not small enough!) of Scotch, and because Stefano had poured me a taste of Sambuca - Stefano offered to walk me back to my hotel so that I wouldn't fall into a canal.
The fog, which had finally broken a bit in the late afternoon to let a few rays of sunlight dance on the water, had rushed back in with the night and was clinging to everything and everyone. Stefano, a native Venetian, took me a different way back to my hotel by way of St. Mark's Square - and the fog was so thick that standing in front of the Basilica di San Marco it was impossible to see either the church's incredible onion domes or the top of the adjacent bell tower. The piazza and the streets were all but empty, and the city was - if this is even possible - even more hauntingly beautiful than it usually is. I think I fell in love with Venice a little more at that very moment, something I also didn't think was possible.
I couldn't linger, though, because I was exhausted and absolutely freezing, so Stefano walked me to my hotel's door and gave me a kiss on each cheek. I promised him I'd come back to the restaurant the next time I was in Venice, but there's just no telling when that'll be. Honestly, I'm not sure it even matters, though, because now I'm a regular.
On this last trip to Venice, however, I think I became something more akin to a regular than I've ever managed to do on any other trips here or anywhere else. I went to the same restaurant two nights in a row, and because I was dining alone on both occasions I ended up chatting amiably both with the fellow running the tiny dining room (along with others who worked there) and some of the other diners. I'd introduced myself on the first night with my business card, and said I was a travel writer (long after I'd already ordered and eaten most of my meal, I should mention), and in so doing found my table crowded with tiny plates of samples of dishes I hadn't ordered. They called me Signorina Jessica all night long, and it was delightful. Was it anything more than them just being stereotypically flirty Italian men? Maybe not. And when you're traveling alone there are times when you just don't care about the "why," as long as someone is keeping you company.
When I went back the second night they recognized me and called me by name, which instantly made me smile. I let Stefano, the maitre-d' of sorts, order for me and didn't even end up reading much of the book I'd brought with me, because not long after I finished my first course, a pair of gentlemen arrived who were friends of the owners (they shouted "Il Sindaco!" - the mayor - when the two walked in, but I don't know which one they were referring to and it was a joke anyway) and were seated beside me. As he seated them, Stefano introduced them to me and told them in Italian to behave themselves (he then leaned in to me and said, in English, "But we can talk about them, because I don't think they speak English."). I chatted with them most of the evening, entirely in Italian, and had a wonderful time. Claudio, Giorgio and I talked about politics (both here in Italy and back in the US), music, travel and, most of all, Italy.
I had arrived on the second night later than on the first, and because things in Venice close up earlier than in most other touristy cities, I was there at 10:30 or 11 when the restaurant staff sat down in the other dining room to eat their dinner. I was there when they pulled down the metal gates outside the windows, and then - because Claudio and Giorgio had given me some of their wine (on top of the wine I'd ordered for myself) as well as a small glass (though not small enough!) of Scotch, and because Stefano had poured me a taste of Sambuca - Stefano offered to walk me back to my hotel so that I wouldn't fall into a canal.
The fog, which had finally broken a bit in the late afternoon to let a few rays of sunlight dance on the water, had rushed back in with the night and was clinging to everything and everyone. Stefano, a native Venetian, took me a different way back to my hotel by way of St. Mark's Square - and the fog was so thick that standing in front of the Basilica di San Marco it was impossible to see either the church's incredible onion domes or the top of the adjacent bell tower. The piazza and the streets were all but empty, and the city was - if this is even possible - even more hauntingly beautiful than it usually is. I think I fell in love with Venice a little more at that very moment, something I also didn't think was possible.
I couldn't linger, though, because I was exhausted and absolutely freezing, so Stefano walked me to my hotel's door and gave me a kiss on each cheek. I promised him I'd come back to the restaurant the next time I was in Venice, but there's just no telling when that'll be. Honestly, I'm not sure it even matters, though, because now I'm a regular.
Cold in Venice
I wrote this while in Venice earlier this week, though I've now returned to Milan:
When I left Milan on Tuesday morning, it was the same weather we've been having for a week now - chilly in the shade, but in the sun it'd be downright pleasant. I went out without a coat the other day, in fact, and wasn't cold. It's pretty cold at night, of course, but during the day it's really nice to be outside. I had checked the weather reports for Venice before I left, and although the temperatures were a little bit lower, when I packed my bag I didn't factor in one important thing: the fog.
It's friggin' cold here, folks.
The famous Milan fog hasn't really hung around much since we arrived, but it was pretty foggy this morning when I left. And as the train rolled toward Venice the fog never seemed to lift. Then, as the train turned from Venice's mainland station to make the trip across the water to the station on the island itself, the fog actually seemed to get thicker. As soon as I got off the train in my rain jacket I wished I'd brought my down coat - even though it's supposed to rain here for two of the three days I'm here. (Yes, it's actually supposed to get more damp and cold.)
Now, it's February, so I didn't expect warm temperatures. But I didn't expect it to be quite this cold, and the kind of cold that goes straight to your bones. Venice isn't a museum city as far as I'm concerned, because the best thing to do here is just to wander and get lost in the alleyways, but I might seek out a few museums anyway...
Another thing I didn't expect at this time of year is the number of tourists. It's far less than there are in the summer, but the line to get onto the main tourist line bus/boat was long, and my boat was full nearly the whole trip. Piazza San Marco was crowded when I arrived, although as I walked back to my hotel for the last time that night around 7:45pm the piazza had almost entirely cleared out. It was gorgeous in the fog, but I didn't linger.
Seriously, my teeth were chattering.
We'll see what happens - I may have to buy myself a sweater, gloves and a hat. Or I'll just have to duck into lots of museums and cafes. Neither one sounds too terribly bad, now that I think about it.
More about my 3.5 days in Venice later, along with photos!
When I left Milan on Tuesday morning, it was the same weather we've been having for a week now - chilly in the shade, but in the sun it'd be downright pleasant. I went out without a coat the other day, in fact, and wasn't cold. It's pretty cold at night, of course, but during the day it's really nice to be outside. I had checked the weather reports for Venice before I left, and although the temperatures were a little bit lower, when I packed my bag I didn't factor in one important thing: the fog.
It's friggin' cold here, folks.
The famous Milan fog hasn't really hung around much since we arrived, but it was pretty foggy this morning when I left. And as the train rolled toward Venice the fog never seemed to lift. Then, as the train turned from Venice's mainland station to make the trip across the water to the station on the island itself, the fog actually seemed to get thicker. As soon as I got off the train in my rain jacket I wished I'd brought my down coat - even though it's supposed to rain here for two of the three days I'm here. (Yes, it's actually supposed to get more damp and cold.)
Now, it's February, so I didn't expect warm temperatures. But I didn't expect it to be quite this cold, and the kind of cold that goes straight to your bones. Venice isn't a museum city as far as I'm concerned, because the best thing to do here is just to wander and get lost in the alleyways, but I might seek out a few museums anyway...
Another thing I didn't expect at this time of year is the number of tourists. It's far less than there are in the summer, but the line to get onto the main tourist line bus/boat was long, and my boat was full nearly the whole trip. Piazza San Marco was crowded when I arrived, although as I walked back to my hotel for the last time that night around 7:45pm the piazza had almost entirely cleared out. It was gorgeous in the fog, but I didn't linger.
Seriously, my teeth were chattering.
We'll see what happens - I may have to buy myself a sweater, gloves and a hat. Or I'll just have to duck into lots of museums and cafes. Neither one sounds too terribly bad, now that I think about it.
More about my 3.5 days in Venice later, along with photos!
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