Tina Time

3/22/06

I have always seen and thought of myself as a writer, even though there have been great stretches of time when I was not writing at all, times when I enjoyed the crafting of letters or business communication but just never had the discipline to consistently churn out work for the exercise of finding a voice, developing the depth and breadth of ideas necessary to prove yourself worthwhile. This blog is serving as that tool for me, so I am so delighted to be able to forget about the pressures of what to write about and just relax into the storytelling and descriptions, the delights of writing.

So, Venice! We woke up Tuesday, (our 25th wedding anniversary) with still no luggage. but first, before the rest of that story, I must just take a moment to tell you about our room. Much to my chagrin, I did not take pictures of the ceiling, as it is difficult to describe. The entire ceiling was sectioned using heavy gilded molding materials. A star made of this gold molding encased the French teardrop chandelier and a combination of triangles and squares fit together in a tight pattern, forming a border at the perimeter of the room. Some sections were painted white, some gold, some blue. The walls of room were a soft country blue and the wooden desk, bed bench, night stands and armoire were all delicately hand painted with swirls, flowers and small intricately colored birds. Except for the bathroom, which was updated, the room made you feel as if you had stepped into a time long ago. But I digress....

After breakfast: cold cuts, croissants and assorted breakfast breads, cereal, fresh fruit, yogurt and my favorite new food, Nutella (its like peanut butter, but made from hazelnut and with chocolate. i am not a peanut butter lover but now I eat Nutella almost every day.....it kind of makes me feel like Italy....just a little). Breakfast was pretty much the same at all three hotels we stayed at in the course of our stay, no eggs, no pancakes, but a meat and cheese tray and a huge variety of breads. High fiber cereals and yogurts a staple.

Anyway, after breakfast, still in the same summer clothes that we had been wearing since Sunday and had to put back on after our shower we had had enough. We headed out from the hotel, to find it pouring rain. Right outside the door was a young Middle Eastern man selling umbrellas for 5 Euros each, so we bought 2 and headed straight for the kiosks right across the canal. Keith bought a heavy velour sweater with Venicia embroidered on the front. I, at least, had a lightweight sweatshirt with me and Capri length pants. He was wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, so this was the first time he had been warm (during daylight) since we got there.

We didn't really know where to go, but we knew the general direction of "town" (we were staying near the outskirts of Venice) so we started walking. It was, once again like being in another time or like being on a movie set. Each building is more beautiful than the next, with statues, mostly of saints, carved into buildings, along with other shapes and symbols, arches. The walkways were cobblestone and each shop had a tiny display window, but in most cases, proved to be a long narrow store. Sidewalk cafes were found on every corner of an intricate array of stone lined alleys. But of course they were empty in the rain, except for a few brave souls huddled up against the building smoking.

Venice is known for a few things, blown glass and paper or stationery products. You have no idea of the many types of glass and how many different ways to use it. The same with the paper, beautiful paper, envelopes, note pads and pens. Once again, much to my chagrin, we did not buy any of the beautiful papers we saw. I kept thinking I would get it later. My advice, when you travel, if you see something you really like, buy it right then and there. You almost never go back and the stack of junk you buy that you later regret pales in comparison to the pain of not having what you now recognize could have made the perfect memory.

We ducked into the first clothing store we saw that was not dealing exclusively in lingerie, gloves, shoes or sweaters. The shop we did step into was very small but a lot of clothes space, either hanging and on shelves. The man behind the counter wore a well fitted grey wool suit over a black T shirt;. He was a small, neat man, with close cropped silver hair, a little balding on top and a classic handsome Italian face, straight of one of many memorable movies. He had elegant movements and wonderful accented English. We knew we would be reimbursed for whatever we bought from either our travel insurance or from the airline, so we shopped! I tried on several pairs of jeans (one of my goals was to come home with a pair of authentic Italian jeans) and finally decided on the pair that fit best, a sweater and scarf (all the women wore scarves and I had to have one!) Kieth bought a pair of jeans and a sweater. We were just about to settle up, but I continued to be drawn back to a purple leather coat. It was 40 Euros. I really didn't need another leather jacket, but it was cold and I knew the sweater would not be enough, but a purple leather jacket. You should see it! Its fabulous!

Once the shopping was done, we were warm and fed and ready to see the sites. Once again we walked and gawked, occasionally buying small items from a small shop or median merchants. Keith was wearing sandals, so we thought about buying him a pair of shoes. We walked into the first men’s shoe store we saw, I asked, American size 14? hahahahahahahahahah (the Italian are not sized 14).

We walked and walked until all of a sudden, there we were at the Grand Canal. It was like standing in a postcard. My next step in blogging is to try to add some pictures to this story, my words cannot convey what it was like to stand there and see a sight I had seen so many times on television, in magazines and books, and I was there. It took my breath away. The crowd was festive and international and people politely took their turn to have their picture taken on the bridge, then yielded so the next family or couple could have their turn.

Finally, we moved on down the stairs to the row of canal side restaurants and stopped for a bite to eat. But we had to hurry; we still needed to get to St. Mark's Square. Once again, we weren't exactly sure where it was, but we kept walking and finally we there.

But, dear reader, the time is late, my eyelids heavy... I thought I would be able to complete a day of Italy each day, but here I am, ready for bed and still much about the first day in Venice to tell. I don't really want to rush through what could be a fun writing/reading experience. If you are reading along, please help me, too much? too little? right pace? love to hear from you!
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