Sure, everyone can conjure up images of the canals and gondolas, or St. Mark's Square that Venice is known for, but being there made us realize what a different city Venice is from any other. Being on the water (it's actually 6 islands connected by small foot bridges), means there are no cars or trucks or mopeds anywhere, which leaves the city quieter than most others. It also means that walking is the only form of transportation, and the Venetians have turned it into an art system, where there are specific rules (stay to the right, single file when people are approaching from the opposite direction). You realize that when you take your trash out each week on trash day, a barge will be parked near the city-island, from which smaller boats will tour the canals, pausing to park and unload the trash collectors, who will then push large carts through the narrow streets, picking up each household's waste.
We also saw a funeral one day while walking the streets. We watched as the procession made their way through the square to a church. Later, we stood next to a grieving widow on the water bus and watched a private speed boat carry the coffin across the water. The bus stops at the cemetery, a completely separate island walled off from the surrounding water before making its way to Murano and dropping off all the tourists.
A lot more effort is put into each task or duty in Venice, the things we so easily take for granted here in the States.
We had some pretty good food in Venice too.
Kevin definitely enjoyed some seafood, and even took some risks with new things, such as octopus head (see picture below).
I had my favorite pizza of our entire Italy trip while perusing the glass shops in Murano.
And we had our absolute, hands-down, favorite meal ever on our first night in Venice, not because of the food so much as the company. We went to a small restaurant pointed out to us by a local (we were completely lost and could not find our location on the map, so we asked for help and ended up getting a quick tour of one area of the city, along with a few restaurant recommendations). We were seated outside at a small table and proceeded to order. After putting in our order, a group of 8 was seated at the very close tables next to us. My first thought was to try to move our table over to give them a bit more room. As I attempted to pull our table and my chair over, the woman closest to me turned and said in a very French accent, "No, no, it is fine!". I smiled at her and turned back towards my husband and our own conversation. As Kevin and I chatted, we wondered if the group had actually thought of us moving over as an insult rather than an attempt to be polite. We waited for our (Liter of) wine, and watched as the large carafe was delivered to the group, rather than us. They looked surprised, as they had not ordered yet, so we mentioned it may be ours. They laughed, and we offered it to them (they politely declined). It appeared that only one of the women spoke only a bit of English, and I only have my 4 years of high school French, but over that meal, we had amazing conversation. The group of 8 lived in Northern France, and consisted of 4 couples. Over many many drinks, we laughed and attempted to translate each other for over 3 hours. At one point, hot whiskey drinks of some sort were ordered, and when they came out, proved to be a disappointment to one of the men, a hospital chef. He walked to the back of the restaurant to speak to the bar tender, and when we looked over again, he was behind the bar showing the bar tender how to make the drink correctly. The restaurant closed and we still talked and laughed. One of the women bought me a rose from the street sellers, and made a toast, saying in her own words "Because of wine being delivered to the wrong table, we have made new friends from other places". It was my favorite night because of that table next to us.
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