We got in so late last night, and so damned tired, that I couldn't even begin to blog. Yesterday was our day trip to Venice, and the combination of lack of sleep, crowds, and the stress of travel did not bring out the best in any of the Herbons (although, strangely, Reiner maintained a level of composure unavailable to the rest of us).
The lack of sleep was largely self-imposed. The night before, my usually intelligent and forward-thinking daughters chose the night before our earliest start time to stay up until 1:00 a.m. drinking. When 5:00 rolled around, none of us were ready.
But we managed to get to the Metro and over to the Grey Lines office. Onto a bus to the train station, then onto a high-speed train for the trip to Venice. Poor Heidi--motion sickness. A young man on our tour, whom we called Dramamine Man, provided her with the important little pills, but it seems a lot of her trouble came from a combination of empty stomach, lack of sleep, and her Aunt Yvette's inability to ride backward.
The train ride went quickly for me--I slept. Before too long, we came to the train station in Venice and stepped out into this beautiful city. And what did we find? People, people, and more people. As it was the Saturday of a three-day weekend for Italians, everyone apparently decided Venice would be a nice place to visit.
Yet, that first view of the Grand Canal from the bridge by the station does not disappoint. For the girls, the canal looked just like its pictures. We grabbed a quick snack while we waited for our vaperetto, then crowded on with our group to head for St. Mark's Square.
This view, too, does not disappoint. It was exactly as I remembered it from 1999, except with a lot more people. We looked around a little, then grabbed at a table at the Aurora for lunch. While waiting for our sandwiches, our poor tour guide, Antonilla, appeared. She had lost several people on our tour, and apparently the tour guides are responsible even for the most irresponsible of tourists. Our tour had a large group of Spaniards, who, no matter how many times they were told, wandered off and had to be hunted down. Instead of lunch, Antonilla spent her free time looking for these idiots.
There is no bee in this coke
When everyone had gathered together after lunch and some shopping, the group prepared for a tour of St. Mark's. Antonilla was very careful to remind everyone that no backpacks were allowed inside, and she herself took the backpacks from the members of our group and checked them into the cloak room. All the backpacks, that is, except for the ones being worn by two little Indian girls. Their mother decided for herself that the backpacks her daughters were wearing would be O.K. Of course, they were not, and the official at the door of the church stopped them. He scolded Antonilla, who then was put in the awful position of reminding the woman and her daughters that she had told them that backpacks were not allowed. She gave the woman the choice of staying outside with the backpacks or she, Antonilla, would stay outside and the rest of us would tour inside on our own. This nasty-ass woman decided to leave Antonilla out with the backpacks.
These ladies from Chicago are amazing world travelers
On the other hand, St. Mark's was as beautiful as ever, and we all paid the two Euros to go in the back to see the gold-and-precious-stone alterpiece and the casket with the remains of St. Mark. While still a busy tourist site, this cathedral retains some of its sacred aura--unlike that other Basillica in Rome.
After the church, we went to a glass factory to see how Murano glass is made. Then, of course, glass products. To my surprise, Reiner bought the green vase I had picked out for myself--happy anniversary to me! Heidi bought herself an adorable blue bracelet, and Maddie has begun hinting around for one of the shot glasses that Reiner bought for himself.
The crowds seemed to only get worse the later we got into the afternoon. The walk to the Rialto Bridge was nothing more than a forced march, then there was a lengthy and sardine-like vaperetto ride back to the train station. Thanks to the Spaniards and the time spent waiting/looking for them, we got back to the train with only minutes to spare.
Long ride home and short tempers when we got back to the hotel. Words were exchanged, but it all blew over. After all, as Scarlett would say, tomorrow is another day. We're four cats in a sack, but we don't have much more time for our vacation so we're doing the best we can.
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