Written by Peter Carmel | 16 November 2009
Posted in Travel Journals - Italy- Venice to Umbria

Flying from SFO (San Francisco) to Venice was not nearly as tiring as I had expected.  Delta had recently acquired AlItalia so there was some overlap in the equipment.  On the flight from SFO to JFK (New York), the plane was outfitted very well.  Ample room in the seating and plenty of free entertainment options. The plane from JFK to Venice was quite another story.  Think reclining passenger's head in your face, and non functioning movie audio.  I can't really complain because the cost was very low (below $800 round trip). 

Since we could not call each other on the cell phone, I had no way of being sure if Carol was going to be on time or even able to meet me at the airport that morning.  Carol had already been in Italy on business with a huge group of travel agents and she wasn't sure they would have a shuttle or anything for her to use.  I was out of baggage claim and sailed through customs before 9AM.   So I began the walk around the terminal to the place where the water taxis and ferry boats are docked.  The airport operates a shuttle bus but its really not needed.  The walkway is covered and paved, and it sure feels good to get some exercise after so many hours being caged. 

The first two photos below were taken by Carol before my arrival.  I took the photo of the water taxi boats waiting for a fare just outside of the airport.

How exciting it was to finally set out on the alilaguna (public transportation) water ferry from the airport to San Marcos Square on the island of Venice.  We has a LOT of luggage and it was difficult boarding the boat using the narrow gangway.  We spent some time waiting for the "gold" line which is an express to San Marcos, which had closed the day before without notice because of the change to the off season.  This was my first introduction to the famed Italian efficiency.  But the price was only 6 euros (a no-brainer compared to a water taxi) so we persisted and began baording the more circuitous  "blue" line.  It did not help that the other passengers were crowding to board at the same time.  Perhaps it would have been better to wait until all the others had boarded before joining the herd. 

Upon arriving at St. Marcos Plaza, we took a quick look around San Marco Piazza and began walking the three blocks towards our destination: the Gritti Palace Hotel.  I noticed that these are not really streets as we think of them in the US like for automobiles.  They are more like wide sidewalks with cobblestones and steep bridges with steps over the canals.  I would not advise it for the elderly or handicapped and it's best to walk slowly but steadily, especially when climbing the steps over a bridge.

Venice is a city filled with beauty and culture beyond words.  There is history and adventure around every corner.  The canals and lagoon offer inspirational scenery and romance, while the churches, hotels, and piazzas are breathtaking and relaxing.  We spent countless hours just roaming aimlessly through the winding streets looking for adventure in every nook and cranny.  The very first night after my arrival, the sky became dark and cloudy, and the first large storm of the year came along for the ride.  But Venice is prepared for these occasions of high water.  When the hotel lobby, the streets, and Piazzas were flooded, a small army of workers assembled walkway platforms above the intruding sea.

While we stayed at the beautifully restored 16th century Gritti Palace Hotel, Carol was invited for a "site" tour of another restored Palace, the Hotel Danieli.  While the Gritti Palace Hotel was nice, I was totally blown away by the luxury and beauty of the Hotel Danieli.  

For our second full day in Venice, we decided to visit Murano to see what all the fuss was about the glass products we saw everywhere.  Since the vaporetto stop was about a 60 second walk from the Gritti Palace, we asked the concierge about the trip.  He would hear nothing of that and advised that he would arrange a private tour with free transportation to the island.  We looked at each other and nodded "why not" and within 10 minutes a luxurious private taxi was docked at the hotel.  I was beginning to suspect we were being mistaken for wealthy people with deep pockets but nevertheless we boarded and began sailing towards the exclusive Murano factory.  We were greeted by the owner of the factory and were brought to the glass factory where we watched the artisans demonstrate glass manufacturing in person.   We were permitted to take photos in the factory and the lobby, but the showroom was strictly "no cameras permitted".  This is understandable as the owner explained that these were exclusive collections created for such celebrities as Elizabeth Taylor.  Our excitement was dashed when we were quoted prices for the items that made my wallet cringe.  Our guide's enthusiasm also waned when it became clear we weren't going to buy anything.  So the return trip to the Gritti Palace was a bit awkward, but it was time well spent seeing such magnificent glass art.

Coming up next on our itinerary is a vaporetto ride to the train station where we boarded a train for Florence.  More to follow.

Written by Doc Wright | 24 November 2007
Posted in Articles - Internet

The old man sat in the cab of his son's beat up blue Ford pickup, gazing longingly out the window at something which no one else could see, toward a horizon hidden by a roadside gas station. The pumps in front were large and red and boasted rounded tops that bore the image of a white winged horse.

He could see his son inside, paying for the gas and for the cream soda and Moon Pie the old man had requested. The attendant was babbling about something behind the counter, he could see, an idiot teenager in a white cap that was two sizes too big for him and which pushed down the tops of his ears so that he looked like a kid playing dress up. He wished the kid would shut up so he could get back on the road with his son.

His head was starting to hurt again and the scent of oranges wafted through the open window of the cab, although there were no oranges around that he could see. He knew it was coming, could almost smell it the way he could smell those oranges. It had happened to him every day for the past month. Some vision, some...almost memory...would play around in his mind until he thought he would go mad with it, and then his headache would pop like a balloon and hewould take a nap, awake feeling a bit refreshed.

And then the vision would come to fruition just as he pictured it.  For some reason, the maddening scent of oranges always preceded these images. Today, though, he had a feeling he would not be taking a nap. He just wanted to drive. Put as many miles as possible between himself and this godforsaken town. He had awoken with a feeling of....bad.

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