Fresh air

So last night, Venice seemed mostly like a tourist destination. Although we feel that our trip is special, it's hard to feel unique when walking around amidst street vendors selling the same t shirts and hot dogs, and people looking at the same maps you are, and announcing to their family in English that we don't know where we are. Especially as we checked our map, argued about from where we came, and relished in 2 dollar brats. But we resigned to the fact that the point of Venice is to see it, you must come and take pictures and enjoy it as everyone else is just because it is so unique, a city with no roads. As it was, we were happy with other things, the chance to talk to family, sleeping in a hotel, having groceries in the fridge. Then our hotel offered to keep our bags until we left, so we felt more than satisfied by the ability to walk around for three hours this morning while our bags waited back at the Al Gallo. We started by slowly meandering our way for some cappuccino, croissants, and general sugar. A real Italian breakfast. Then we came down from our high and split a sandwich, then a kebab before it was time to head back for our bags. In the meantime we had meandered completely across the island to piazza San Marco, itself the hub of activity with tour lines extending out and around churches and museums. As we made our way through there was always one individual holding a colored umbrella up high so that his tour group could keep up behind and avoid following young American couples into the Grand Canal. We picked up our bags and went to make one final stop at a pizzeria con Internet for a late lunch and to make sure we werent missing anything. After that we were going to head to stay in Vicenza for a few days before making our way farther down south. I called our friend Steve, from Vicenza, who just happened to be in Venice himself for the Easter holiday. He ditched his own plans and came to meet us just down the street from our pizzeria. When he showed up he was with his friend Leslie, herself an expat and current native Venizian. We followed her to her place to stash our bags and to follow them for a small tour. Immediately the cloud lifted from Venice, she turned out of the main walkways and took us into Cannaregio I believe, her neighborhood. Her apartment was wonderful, hidden from the main walkway by first a giant green door, then a small atrium, followed by a huge lawn and garden complete with cats. Next to her house is actually a rig to lift your boat out of the water, if she had a backyard... Well she does, it's an entire canal. Se took us on a short tour to get coffee, and then over to the first ghetto in the world. The name comes from... It was a Jewish ghetto because.... I need to research this before I write it but Steve and Leslie knew the answers to these questions and many more facts about Venice than any umbrella throttling tour guide could memorize in a career. We walked back to Leslie's and tossed the frisbee, letting her finish some work and tossing the frisbee. The master of the garden stopped in to tell us that frisbee is explicitly forbade in Venice, to which we apologized, even though his visit was quite cordial including asking where we were from and shaking hands as he left. Then we went out for a little aperetivo, as the wind picked up and the sun set. One more stop at a jazz and seafood bar, for some hush puppies and French fries, and then it was time for us to pick up our bags and get on the train from Venice to Vicenza. Crowded train and everyone slept peacefully.