"Venice," or, "WTF is a Vaporetto?"

So my little sister is spending the summer in Verona, and ironically, I am closer to her now when we are both half a world away from the US. A quick flight from Beauvais airport on Ryanair, which is the Southwest of Europe, took me to Treviso, just north of Venice. A bus and cab ride into the city later, and I was ready to get myself lost.

And get lost I did! Once at the taxi terminal - there are no cars on the island of Venice, just canal boats and pedestrian alleys - I set off to find 555 Santa Croce. Now, before you ask, the islands of Venice proper are divided into districts, such as San Polo and Santa Croce. None are very large, and all can be walked. Nevertheless, it took me about four hours to find 555. After about three and a half I ended up at 548 Santa Croce, which was a hotel with a very helpful receptionist who spoke heavily-accented English.

"Where is 555 Santa Croce?" I ask.
"I donta knowa" he responds.
"Isn't this 548 Santa Croce?" I ask.
"Si." he responds.
"Then should it not be almost next door?" I ask.
"I donta knowa" he responds.

Well, for some reason, 555 Santa Croce is across two bridges and separated from what is the main part of Santa Croce (I know, I walked it all) by the 1300 block of San Polo. Hmmm. Anyhow, I finally got to my hotel and saw my sister at about one in the morning, despite the fact that my flight got into Treviso at 8:00.

The next day, my sister and I saw the sights of the city built on a Northern Adriatic marsh. We stopped for lunch, and she had cuttlefish (squid) cooked in its own ink, which was very tasty but had the tendency to turn one's teeth black. I had monkfish; I'm still not sure what that is, but it was also very good. We took a trip to Piazza di San Marco and saw the doge's palace and the campanile, and took a few pictures in front of the Basilica of San Marco. The doge's palace is rivaled, in my opinion, in over-the-top luxury only by the Louvre of Marie de Medici and Versailles of Louis Quatorze, and none of the three is the clear winner.

We finally raced to the last train out of Venice, headed to Verona, where we spent the night.

Mmmmm, cuttlefish!