Journaling on train ride to Venice... waking up at 7:45 am, grabbing croissant, milk and coffee at the mensa and booking it to make the 8:57 train to Venice. Success.
Truly it is, I say, as Elio Vittorini says in his novel "Conversations in Sicily," "blessed is he who has things to rediscover." Tis true, tis I am on a train to Venice. Ready. Ready to discover and ready to re-discover. I know parts of Venice... I know the pigeon lady at Piazza San Marco, I know restaurants by the color of their canopies, I know what I remember. I know parts of Venice but I do not know the entire place. I was hesitant to decide whether to spend my day and money in Venice since "I have already been there." I know I have made the right decision. It would be stupid of me to not come back to a place I deemed my favorite city when I traveled Europe with my twin sister and parents when I was fifteen years old. Blessed am I who has a favorite place to rediscover!
Tears filled my eyes for no apparent reason; no reasons of sadness, but just for remembering, remembering myself with my famiglia walking around in shorts and tank tops stopping at every church, basilica and building with a cross on it. Sofia and I had to wear paper shawls to cover our shoulders, we laughed at the concept. We laughed when Papi put bird food in our hair and we were swarmed by pigeons. I think I remember walking around the whole day until dinnertime smelling like a pretty pigeon. Sofia and I took bubble baths and dressed in the extra long robes. We were queens. We opened the 20euro bottle of pistachios from the concession in the hotel Metrople room and ate the nuts as we acted like nuts. We opened the window to let the summer air of Venice enter our room while we darted pistachio shells at the walkers and street vendors. We kept trying to get the pistachio shells into the street vendors purses. I remember walking through caved bridges, taking a Gondola ride, eating Caprese salad at a restaurant by a water canal. I remember the dancing nuns who fed us one evening for dinner (or this may have been in Paris or Rome) but I remember them. I remember the meal at the outdoor restaurant that looked like a secret garden, I remember it the color of yellow. It was yellow with green vines. I remember the restaurant with the 100-year-old wine Mami adored. I remember it being just a turn from a random street, the hidden delight of 100-year-old vinegar just around the corner. I remember the owners giving Sofia and I mini ceramic vases as birthday presents. I still see Sofia's on her desk back at home. I remember the huge shrimp on mami's pasta at the funny named pasteria we ate at. I have a picture of this giant sea creature but I do not remember it because of the picture, I remember it because I was there.
I am there again, there now... well I am almost there again, I am still on the train... I am remembering, remembering, remembering. Blessed am I who will get to re-remember and newly remember.
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Today was a new day, a new day in Venice. I was wildly excited, yet it was a leisurely day wandering about the labyrinthine alleyways and happening upon bridges and glass shops. Elle, Kristin and I met up with the Chelsea and Stacey at the piazza San Marco. Uh-oh, meeting spot number one...overly populated...can't find Chelsea and Stacey. I stand on a bench in front of the Basilica San Marco. Don't see them. Standing up there I am knocked by wind of remembrance. The Piazza San Marco... the pigeons, papi, bird poop. What a delicious memory.
Somehow, some miraculous how, Chelsea and Stacey see us, we begin walking. We begin walking without a specific destination. Our destination is simply Venice. Simply. We took today sweetly and simply.
If a city were to be described as unique, you think yeah it's different. But, Venice is one of the cities of the world that can genuinely be called unique. There is no other place in the world like it. Genuinely.
"Built on a series of low mud banks amid the tidal waters of the Adriatic, it is regularly subjected to floods".... Chelsea, Stacey, Kristin, Elle and I walked into the Basilica of San Marco over a plank of wood as to avoid an immense puddle of water... in the Basilica!?! Perhaps a flood?
We meandered our way by the sea, red and white striped poles and gondola men. We walked through local streets away from the noise and underneath hanging linens and underwear. We walked our way to a restaurant...REMEMBRANCE RAN INTO ME. I've eaten here before! This is the restaurant Mami, Papi, Sofia ate at by the water... the caprese salad! This time I shared the memory with Kristin, Stacey, Elle and Chelsea...eating a fresh seafood salad.
We meandered into every glass shop. I bought myself a pair of Venetian glass earrings and had to stop myself from buying every other pair in every other shop. We tried on masks, we passed by children in all sorts of clown, and pirate and princess costumes...Carnival is next week. Lights adorned the streets, and so did the confetti the children threw.
Sadly, pigeons didn’t attack me this time, but I had my own wonderful non-violent action. We walked over what Chelsea called "The Grand Canal" but I knew this wasn't it. We fooled Kristin and Elle this was indeed the Grand Canal... Elle couldn’t walk and instead hopped all around Venice due to her blister, hence her name Blistering Bertha. Later on that night once in Bologna, Kristin noticed that the bridge we crossed was not the Grand Canal. (Blistering Bertha got her revenge by taking pictures of me stretching my legs across the streets of Venice).
Chelsea and I walked our way around to find the train station, we were completely lost. In this “lost” state we found a lot. I found a fruit vendor who sold me grapes for the rest of my spare change. There went all my cash; I seriously only had change left. I just noticed. Well I had survived. We were heading to the train station. Chelsea didn’t like the fact we were walking with no idea we were heading. No worries, I asked our way to the train station. Once someone gave me directions I would get to the first place they directed me too and then once again ask for directions. Italian directions are a little harder to understand. I really had to use the ladies room…and two hours later we found the train station! And I asked for a bathroom… 2 euros please! Uh-oh I had no money. I went back to the front steps of the train station to sit with Chelsea as we waited for Elle, Kristin and Stacey (who had gone to Murano on water taxi). On my way to the steps I passed the coffee bar, hands in my pocket…and voila! I found a euro coin… not enough to use the bathroom but just enough to get me an espresso! (And worsen my need to use the bathroom, but still completely worth it)
Once aboard with Elle and Kristin we ran to our train and hoped Stacey would be on the train as well. I ran to use the free bathroom, the first time of three visits to the bathroom. I had only used the bathroom once on the way to Venice and no more after that because I entered the bathroom only to find a man hiding behind the door. This time there was a man I thought was waiting to use the bathroom, but instead was just standing there all three times I went to use the bathroom. By the third time this man and I exchanged names. I know I’m not supposed to talk to strangers (I’m avoiding the responsibility talk after hitchhiking in Malta) but this was just chatting while waiting to use the restroom. He asked where I was from and I asked him…and next thing I know he’s pulling out his tom-tom GPS system showing me exactly where he lives in sometime I believed is called Furlia. We chatted for a bit and then exchanged e-mails, an idea I know think I wasn’t thinking at the time as he already sent me an e-mail saying:
Ciao bellissima e simpaticissima Carolina,
Ti e piaciuta Venezia.
Ciao da Aniello. Ci siamo conosciuti innocenza treno Ciao e sempre mucio gusto.
On the train ride “home” to Bologna we passed the cities of Padua and Ferrarra. I want to visit them, I want to see them, I wasn’t to taste them, and I want to plant my feet on the city’s piazzas. I feel as if there is so much to see and time hinders me from visiting all these places. But I must remember that time is what is allowing me to see these places. Blessed am I who gets to see what I see. And what I don’t see now, I’ll see tomorrow. Blessed am I.
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