An Afternoon in Venice

So its Carnival time in Venice and we decided it would fun to explore the town while hundreds of thousands of other people did too. And man were we right. Although we went on a Sunday and there weren't much in the way of events that day, there was still plenty to see as is evident by the pictures below.

We began our adventure at 5:30 in the morning when the four of us met in the lobby to take the bus to the train station. Little did we realize that the hotel shuts down at night and that includes locking all of its residents in with a gate that surrounds the property. Well, they say there is a first for everything, I guess that includes scaling a fence. So after we all successfully jumped the gate we ran to the bus stop down the road only to discover that we had been misinformed and the bus didnt actually start running until closer to 7:00 on Sundays. Confused, we made our way back to the hotel and called a cab. Once we got to the train station, everything went smoothly from there. The ride to Venice was only about 1.5 hrs from Verona. Jittery with excitement we stood with gaping jaws and eyes bugging out of our heads as we caught our first glimpse of the city. Emerald green water flowed before century old stone buildings . It was one of the most breath taking things I've ever seen.

We wandered through the narrow streets for the next couple of hours and followed the massive crowds to San Marco Square where the edge of the Adriatic Sea greeted us in a shimmering splendor. There were people as far as the eye could see, some in elaborate Carnival garb, others in jeans and a mask. Vendors clogged the streets with watercolor renditions of the canals, carnival masks boasting Italian authenticity, and scarves originating from the middle east. Native American bands filled the square with a taste of home spiced with the sound of terns and seagulls sqwaking. A man walked by with an arm full of faux Prada and Channel bags, shouting something in Italian. With each breeze, the Rialto was filled with the scent of fresh bread, stale wine and sea brine. It appears that regardless of the city, some things never change.

We continued to explore and went into every church we passed. Each chapel was different in its architectural style and added to the charm of the city in its own way. The first one we visited, the Church of San Lucia was constructed out of white marble with Cathedral cielings indicating pre-renaissance design. It was absolutely beautiful in its simplicity. We visited another one shortly after that that was almost completely lined in velvet tapestries. It was incredible and regal looking. Upon close inspection, it was easy to see that the tapestries were very old and had been falling apart for a while, but from far away they looked flawless.

The last one we visited was the San Marco Duomo in San Marco Square. This cathedral was worth the trip to Venice in its own right. The wait in line was nearly 2 hours long to get inside, completely winding through the square. So instead of joining the masses, we opted to wait a bit until the costume competition began later that afternoon when we figured most people would be more interested in the fashion show than the cathedral. As we'd hoped, our wait was much shorter. I pushed open the heavy woodenchurch door into the chapel and stopped in my tracks. The entire room was tiled in intricate mosaics. Each mosaic depicted a story from the bible. It was the most incredible thing Id ever seen. Where there were no stories, there were gold tiles that caused the entire church to sparkle and glow. It was like being in a room completely lined with gold and then watching the sun shine through the window and bring it to life. It was absolutely breath taking. We continued up a steep staircase to get a closer look and ended up in a museum-like room that was filled with relics from the original cathedral dating back to the 5th century. Marble pieces lined the walls with plaques describing their importance. Antique bibles written in Latin and Palpal treasures lie in glass cases. We continued through the room and down another short corridor to a room filled with Byzantine tapestries depicting the stations of the cross and other bibal stories. Being that close to that much history is absolutely overwhelming. To think that thousands of years ago someone was weaving that tapestry to share a story and forever cement it in history. After a while of just standing there absorbing everything we could, we worked our way over to the terrace that surrounds the cathedral and overlooks San Marco Square. Below us children bounced around in their costumes and cameras flashed. A helicopter flew overhead and spooked a flock of seagulls, sending them diving into the center of the square in droves. The sun glinted off the waves in the distance and music from nearby street performers softened the melancholy hum of the church bells tolling on the hour.

Like Cinderella, the dream vanished as the clock struck. Reality hit that we had a train to catch and reluctantly we made our way out of the cathedral and began our hour long trek back to the station. Once inside the station we quickly realized that we were not the only ones hoping to catch the next train out of party city. The only available tickets left for the rest of the night were non-reservation tickets meaning that if you are lucky enough to make it on a train, you will be standing. We ran to the platform holding onto eachothers purses so as not to get seperated. Once we got there we joined a crowd of a couple hundred people all trying to get to Verona. The first few cars we passed were jam-packed with people smushed up against the glass on the doors. As we made our way down people became more and more frantic as they pushed and shoved their way onto the train. It quickly became clear that we were most certainly not going to make this train. So we ran across the adjoining track and headed back to the main terminal. There we sat in a corner exhausted and watched the departure board for information on the next train out. After an hour the platform number still wasnt posted. Nervous, we validated our tickets and asked a random conductor who instructed us to go to platform 14. We ran through the crowds, trying to make it there before the train. Others caught on and followed our lead. We met up with some other kids from our school who had also traveled to Venice that day and they said they had been waiting since 4:00 for a train. It was now after 7. We waited nervously as a train pulled up to platform 13. Someone opened a window and said that this was the train for Verona. It appeared that everyone heard it at the same time as the hundreds of people who lined the platform edge stampeded to the next platform over. There was no hope of running with those in our group- our goal became solely to get on the train and get home. Some of us made it on- others not.

We quickly learned that not being able to speak the language leads to easy confusion. Once on the train, we asked everyone we saw if they were headed in the same direction- few could understand my broken Italian, and those who could or could patch it up with some broken English shrugged and said "maybe". Confused, frustrated and nervous I followed a friend off the train and watched as our train- the correct train, pulled into the platform. I ran back to where I was sitting and shouted at the rest of the group to get off the train and run. We ran to the back of the train to the edge of the platform. "Should we cross the tracks?" Someone asked. "I dont know...that guy just did it- he seems ok. Lets go" another responded. So with a short count down the group of us ran across the tracks and towards the nearest door. Together we pushed like a brick wall towards the door. There was already a crowd of nearly 50 people trying to board the train at the same door but no one was moving. Suddenly it grew quiet enough to hear a mother scream in Italian. Those closest to the door formed a blockade of bodies and it became evident that one of her small children had slipped between the platform and the train in the commotion. As she gathered her kids and got them all aboard the pushing began again. Police formed a ring around us and tried to calm the crowd down as they shouted and blew their whistles. Oblivious of the dangers of the law around us we continued to push. Eventually I got on board and reached out to grab the hand of a girl in my group. The police swatted at my hand and yelled at me in Italian. I backed up and was pushed to the back of the train. The yelling grew louder when a woman was hit in the midst of the commotion and ended up with a broken nose. Eventually things started to calm down and the police were able to pull the last people far enough away from the train that we were able to leave.

Three hours later....we finally made it to Verona. It was quite the experience. We were exhausted and ready for bed and so thankful that all of our group made it back saftely. I met up with my original group who I had lost after the first platform switch and was received with hugs and words of thanks. All around groups who had been seperated rejoiced to see that they were once again together.

However, even with our challenging experience at the train station our trip to Venice was incredible. I look forward to being able to go back and experience it without the commotion of Carnival. With out a doubt Venice is an amazing city and will take the breath away of anyone lucky enough to make it there.