Venice, a picture-perfect day until the crêpes

When it comes to picturesque train rides, in the last month we’ve seen our fair share… from castles to snow capped villages to dramatic mountain scapes to rolling hills. And just when you think you’ve “seen it all”… A new breed of train scenery emerges: The sea train! Nearing Venice, the land melts away leaving only but a narrow strip of concrete with no other purpose than carrying this unintentionally spectacular track. Our booth seat ensues us a cinematic welcome with clear views of the ocean on either side and the docks that will soon accommodate us. 

The euphoria from our feet physically hitting the ground of this iconic, dream destination has us raring to go. Despite carrying my heavy pack, I airily prance about, asking Jesse in my most posh accent, “Excuse me, did you know, we’re in Venice?”, in celebration of how fancy I feel. “Oh, yes, of course we’re in Venice” he plays along, like we’re not running out of clean clothes and in dire need of food and a shower. With this in mind, the very first thing we do in Venice, (in rebellion to the fanciness and to my horror) is to order Jesse some KFC. Seeing his happy face though, I guess I’ll forgive it. 

Moving away from the scene of the crime… we begin our walk through another world where architecture defies logic. The utilisation of space is clear, with a maze of  brick, mortar and individual flair crammed into every space imaginable. Seeing each building spill into the next, it’s almost as if Venice is a living organism, growing, replicating and mutating along the way. Somehow this chaotic harmony is even more beautiful than a perfectly organised and planned city ever could be. Not to mention, in between the patchwork of colours, styles and varying levels of decay or restoration, run the seams that hold this crazy place together, the canals. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

Well… actually there are a few things I’ve seen before! Namely, key scenes from the movie Indiana Jones, which we managed to recreate with only 20 minutes worth of squabbles relating to poor photography, or was it lack of clear instructions? Like most squabbles… on these points we’ll continue to disagree. However, not willing to let pettiness spoil a good mood, we continue on to the Leonardo Da Vinci Museum, which we discover is a dusty and ill-maintained exhibition but something I enjoy nonetheless.

As the light dwindles, squabbles of earlier in the day well forgotten, Jesse and I laugh about the day, holding hands as we mozy through the darkened alleys of Venice making our way to the shopping district. I don’t take any photos of this blissful window, quite possibly because I am too busy living in the moment. To our suprise, these narrow streets are alive with warm light, enticing smells and happy shoppers even in the dead of winter. Among many other artisan goods, the famous Venetian glass sculptures and intracate masks are everywhere providing us with endless entertainment. 

Eventually we make it to the grand canal where we cross Venice’s most famous bridge, bearing witness to a glorious sunset. With lights of the dock bouncing vibrantly off the water and the colours of the sky encaseing us in a fiery glow of splendor. It couldn’t get more romantic than this. 

Stepping off the bridge were caught by the tantalising smell of a crêpe vendor with exemplary Google reviews. Jesse & I choose different toppings. I notice that they seem to be scrapping the bottom of the jar for my toppings, which concerns me a little, but I put that thought aside, especially since the crêpe is absolutely delicious. Some minutes later, my tummy starts to rumble. “Hrm… that’s odd” I think to myself as we walk to the supermarket. “Hey, Jesse, I’m feeling a bit iffy… let’s be quick” I say not wanting to give up my trip to the supermarket since we’re almost there and it’s half an hour away from our hotel. “Oh!? You’re sure you’ll be ok?” Jess asks, stalling for a moment. “Yeah, I’ll be fine! Let’s just get the stuff” I reassure as we pick up the pace. 

I was in fact… not fine. Just as we reach the furtherst possible location from from our hotel… an evil arrow straight from the depths of hell needles into my stomach. This pain is new, urgent and horrible!  “Jee…sse… We… need to go… back now!!” I stutter enduring waves of stomach somersaults. Jesse knows I mean business and we scuttle out of there without looking back. I walk for 30 minutes like a sad crab, slower than I’d like but faster than you’d expect. Infuriatingly, the closer we get, the  more the GPS fails to find us in the ever narrowing alleyways. Jesse is a few paces ahead of me frantically trying to work out which way will get us back. “I think it’s this one” he encourages, only to double back, “No! Sorry it’s this way” he winces. Every second counts, the fumbling about with the lock on the hotel door, the excruciating wait in a shoddy elevator and finally the last steps to my porcelain saviour. The end is near, I sigh with relief and seal the bathroom door.

A few hours later… I emerge sheepishly, “Well there goes our romantic evening” I sulk. Jesse can only laugh, “yep” he says as he pats me on the head sympathetically and we both admit defeat. The crêpes beat us today but we’re not through with Venice! No, there is still lots to explore and tomorrow is another day!