My first true trip outside of Spain... And it was maravillosa!
We set out from school on Wednesday afternoon. I must say, I was worried we would miss our plane. We had 3 and a half hours to get there, but the Valencia airport is a long way when you have to hike and hop between trains. But we were lucky. We caught each train and metro, sometimes with only seconds to spare.
When we got to Milan, the first thing we noticed was how freezing it was. Gone was the 20° weather (about 70° Fahrenheit) of Spain; instead, we were greeted with cold, damp, 4° air (39°). But at least it finally felt like Christmas! We played cards in a coffee shop, shivering every time the sliding doors next to us opened. It was so wonderful when Stephanie's aunt and uncle picked us up and we climbed into their warm car.
It felt like such a dream when we finally arrived at their house a couple hours later. We walked in and were immediately enveloped in warm, homey smells and the sight of a real home. Couches, a TV, a regular sized bathroom and heavenly soft, warm beds.
AND the next morning, we had Actual American Food! Biscuits with jam, cereal, and Morning Star sausage links. It was amazing, even though we ate it in the car so we wouldn't miss the train to Venice.
We had fun in the train. Italian countryside is breathtaking, and we could see the Alps peaking through the far-off mist. We were even responsible students and practiced Spanish verb conjugations. We recited varations of, "I eat, you eat, he/she eats, we eat, you guys eat, they eat" over and over again.
In the train station, I encountered my first pay toilet so far in Europe. It was only €.80, but when your fingers are numb and you're REALLY not in the mood to wait, it's hard to dig through your wallet for those little coins.
We exited the train station and but then stopped on the steps. Immediately in front of us was the Grand Canal. Venice. We were in Venice!
We had so much fun! I bought a beautiful Venetian glass watch, we examined beautiful leather purses, took pictures, admired the gondolas but politely shook our heads when the gondoliers tried to reel us in, listened to the Italian swirling around us, gaped at hundreds of beautiful (but pricey) masks and discussed the people walking by. I'm afraid it's so easy to get in the habit of talking about people within earshot. We've just gotten so used to people not being to understand us; but so many people speak other languages. Not to mention it's rude, whether they understand us or not.
Although Venice has many wonderful little shops, my favorite were the parchment stores. They were small, warm little shops, with shelves and shelves of beautiful, leather bound journals. Many of them also had leather bookmarks, beautiful maps on parchment, wax seals and fountain and quill pens. Absolutely beautiful! I just wanted to buy a leather journal, sit down and write something worthy.
The first parchment store we went in, we were exclaiming over the beautiful books, when I wandered back to the counter. The proprietor - a small, older Italian man - was talking with another little Italian man as he cut some paper for another journal. He saw me, smiled and said, "Fa freddo!"
I smiled really big. I understood what he said! I nodded. "Si, mucho. Um... San Marco?" I named the main plaza.
"Oh, si, si." He pulled out a little map with his store location on it. When I pointed to the X and asked, "Estamos aquí?", he nodded and said, "Ahhh, española, no?"
I nodded my head. But wait a minute; he didn't ask if I spoke Spanish. He asked if I was Spanish! Me! He thought I was Spanish! I was so excited. Whenever we travel, I always try to fit in and not stick out as American. And then he goes and thinks I'm actually a European! ¡Que guay!
With my Spanish and his Italian, the store owner explained to me how to get to San Marcos. Although we still got lost, we did happen across a cheap (Venice-cheap) pizzeria with rude waiters. But it was funny; for some reason, the waiter started out by talking to us in French. I don't know why... We were speaking a mix of Spanish and English, but we definitely weren't speaking French.
When we got to San Marcos, there were hundreds of people and almost as many pigeons. I understand why it's called one of the busiest plazas in all of Europe. At first, I wasn't going to hold a pigeon, but after seeing how easy it was to get one, I tried it. I might have deceived a few pigeons into thinking I had food, but at least I wasn't grabbing or squeezing them like a few guys behind us were.
It was so hard to know what language to speak! We're so used to speaking Spanish with other people. But this wasn't Spain anymore; it was Italy. And even though most store owners did speak Spanish, they also spoke English. Half the time, we would stand there like an idiot, stumbling over ourselves as we figured out what language to speak in. I generally stuck to Spanish. It seems like people sometimes respond better if they think you're from Europe. Even when a group of Italian guys in the plaza asked us in English to take their picture, I spoke to them in Spanish. If nothing else, it's more fun than English.
I really loved Italian! The whole trip, I was constantly trying to read signs, listening for familiarities in Italian and trying to pick up words or phrases. It's quite similar to Spanish. I could read signs and menus pretty well. One freeway sing admonished drivers to slow down because of fog, and it was almost exactly the same as Spanish. I couldn't understand very well (I still can't understand Spanish completely!), but I could understand how much things cost and other small comments and phrases. I am absolutely determined: as soon as I know Spanish, I'm setting myself to learning Italian.
What's that? Fotos, you say? Well, here you are! Oh, and by the way, I generally upload pictures to my blog before anything else. Look at that! You guys take precedence over Facebook even!
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Don't let my shoe wear fool you. It was freezing cold. I was the only person I saw the whole time we
were in Italy with sandals on. Lots of people raised their eyebrows at me. But with limited packing space... |
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| A dragon holding a bunch of umbrellas! Coolest street lamp EVER. |
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It was a cute purse. But also the stall owner didn't seem enthusiastic about
our picture taking. |
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Gondola! It makes me think of Phantom of the Opera,
despite the fact that that story was set in France. |
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| Grand Canal |
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| Painting on the cathedral in San Marcos |
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A sweet British lady took this foto for us. When she gave me back
my camera, she said it was nice to hear American accents. |
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| Parchment store! |
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I said I wouldn't do it, but I couldn't resist. I'm just glad nothing
happened to my sleeve! |
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| Grand Canal at night time. |
Venice, Venicia, Venizia... Whatever language you use, it's an amazing city!
