Venice: Worth the Wait.

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Airport Bed

Getting where you need to be takes a lot out of you. I forget that almost every year. I thought I’d been brilliant booking a hotel “ten minutes from the airport” at Marco Polo in Venice. Free shuttle transportation, a queen bed, breakfast in the morning…perfect. I’d learned my lesson trying to get to hostels too late at night (see Barcelona blog) and it wasn’t gonna happen this time. I got in at 10:20 pm only to find that my hotel stopped running their shuttle service 30 minutes ago and a taxi would cost me almost as much as my hotel for the night. After promising I wouldn’t sleep outside (ahem, even though it was warmer with bigger benches) I curled up on two metal-gapped chairs in the freezing airport and bummed it.  I pretended I was in a big, warm bed with feather comforters because that’s what was already charged to my card. By two-thirty in the morning, falling between the chairs, my feet tangled in my bags, I was working the heck out of my imagination. 

I hung out in the airport, completely drained, till around 8 the next morning and took a bus into the city. The second I stepped off the bus and saw boats everywhere floating the gorgeous green waters between colorful, pastel paint-chipped façades with water-lapped bases, the past few days suddenly became worth it. I was in another world. The hell of getting to these places I usually forget; these moments, though, I never do. 

I took a waterbus, or vaporetto, to San Zaccoria in the San Marco Square. From there I found my hostel easily enough and was only a little disappointed when I couldn’t check into my room for another few hours. Exploring Venice until then, even 67 hours of nonstop traveling later, was still amazing.  

I'd forgotten how good real gelato was

Happy to hit a bed!

After I did get back to my room, however, I didn’t care that I hadn’t showered in nearly three days, or that I was hungry, or that it was the middle of the day. I washed my face, put a towel on my clean bed, and slept for five hours straight. I could have slept through the night I’m sure, but I forced myself up, changed and went on a run.

 

Late-night runs in foreign cities are my favorite

When I came back, Sierra (one of my hostel roomies) and I went out for some wine. We ran into a little corner bar with two friendly bartenders; the chatty one, Giovanni, told us he’d close the bar down for us at midnight and the four of us could hang out inside. We said we’d be back at midnight because, as Sierra said, it’s easier to lie than tell a persistent Italian man (or any man, really) “no.” 

Good wine, good company

I have two full days left in Venice and I hope they’re enough. Tomorrow I’m going to Lido beach to spend the afternoon, reading and relaxing. I expect it’ll be a good day.