Adventures in Italy 2

I woke up at 6:00 the following morning and found that my stuff was just as I had left it the night before. For some reason, I was never very afraid that my stuff would be stolen. After brushing my teeth and washing my face I took a walk outside on the grounds of the hostel property. I had to find a place where I could use the internet so that I could book a hotel room in Milan. I wanted to call Joel Rinn, but I only had enough cash to pay for staying at the hostel, so I couldn’t use a pay phone yet. I had tried to get money from an ATM machine the evening before, but my card was rejected, probably because the bank was a local one, Banco Populare di Verona; but this bank was the only one I had yet seen.

I found a secluded place and spent some time in prayer; then I went back inside to the front desk and asked if there were any banks nearby that would accept a foreign card. The lady said that there were two at Piazza Isolo. The time was now 7:00 and breakfast began at 7:30, so I decided to use the next half hour to go down and look for a bank that would accept my card. The first bank I came to was another local bank, and the second one I came to was an ATM machine in an enclosure, which didn’t open until 8:20a.m.

I went back up the hill to the hostel and found the room where breakfast was being served. The food was rather meager, consisting of dry bread and warm milk. There was also coffee and tea. I felt like I could have been one of the orphans in Oliver Twist. “Please, can I have some more?”  I was a bit disappointed, but also amused. Anyway, I only paid 18 Euros (about $24).

After breakfast, I got my things together and checked out. I went down the hill, pulling along with me my stroller suitcase, which made a lot of noise on the cobblestone road; but this time I didn’t get about attracting attention. I just wanted to get out of Verona as fast as I could. I went through Piazza Isolo and passed the second ATM machine that I had found, but I didn’t feel like trying it. I figured it would be just as unfriendly as the rest of this part of town. I expected that as I got closer to the train station the people and the infrastructure would be more stranger-friendly, so I made my way towards the central piazza, which is where the Arena is. Along the way I found a CREDEM bank, which is what I had used in Trento; but, sadly, this ATM also rejected my card.

When I got to the central piazza I asked someone if there were any banks nearby. He said that there was a UNICREDIT bank on Via Mazzini. So, I went along Via Mazzini and found the bank. One had to go through two automatic doors to get in, but the second one wouldn’t open until the first one had closed. When I finally realized that I had to stay still so that the first door could close, the second door opened and I walked to the ATM machine. I put my card in and SUCCESS. With a sigh of relief I took out 80 Euros and went back to the piazza. I bought a sandwich for my lunch later on, then used the change at a nearby payphone to call Joel. By now, the time was a little after 9:00, so I figured he would be awake. I called his cell phone and his home phone, but no one answered.

“So,”  I thought to myself. “I will have to find that internet café in Venice.” I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and began walking briskly towards the train station. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place. Along the way I encountered a guy asking me for money. At first I shook my head ‘no’, but then I thought of how I wished that Verona had been a friendlier place, so I decided to be friendly to this guy and gave him a few coins. “Tourists are probably the only people here who would be kind enough to give these guys money,” I thought to myself. Then it occurred to me that the reason the guy had asked me for money was very likely because I looked like a tourist. With this thought, I walked a little faster, regretting having given him the coins. Speaking of friendliness ( or the lack thereof ), Jessica Rinn had told me the day before that they found Verona to be an unfriendly place. No wonder the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet takes place in Verona.

I soon arrived at the train station, bought a ticket to Venezia ( Venice ), and boarded the train, letting out a sigh of relief as I sunk into my chair. A few moments later I was off to Venice.

After about an hour the train slowed down a bit as it came to a bridge. The train continued, passing over a cyan blue sea to the set of 118 islands called Venezia. When we pulled into the station I got my bags and exited the train. The time was about 11:40a.m. Joel had told me that at train stations there are places that charge a small fee to temporarily hold your baggage, so after I had found this place I went in and dropped off my suitcase, but I kept my backpack with me. I then proceeded to the exit.

The charm of Venice was apparent the moment I walked out of the train station. In front was the Canal Grande, the main canal that goes through Venice. Most of the buildings around the canal were painted orange, white, pink, or yellow, which contrasted well with greenish-blue tint of the water and the deep blue of the sky. After taking some pictures I went to find the internet café. Someone from the workshop had given me their map of Venice, so I knew generally where to go, but I still had some difficulty keeping track of which alleyway I was on. I had to stop every few minutes to stare at the map again. On one such occasion I realized that I had passed the internet café, but instead of retracing my steps, I decided to go by way of the Ghetto Nuovo, which was nearby. Apparently, the term ‘Ghetto’ was first coined in Venice. Here is a blurb from a tourist guide that I had:

“The Ghetto was instituted by the Venetian Republic in 1516 as a compulsory place of residence for Jews. The word itself, ghetto, seems to have originated in Venice: the term derives from the contortion of the work [sic] geto ( ‘to throw’ as a synonym for ‘to cast’), referring to the foundries that were locates here in early times.”

I followed the yellow signs with Hebrew written on them, and came to the Ghetto without much difficulty. On one of the walls was a plaque and some artwork depicting the holocaust, a memorial to remind people of the suffereing that the Jews had suffered. The artwork did a good job of communicating the horror they went through, I think. There were Synagogues and Jewish museum there as well, but I didn’t have time to go to them. I had to make sure that I had a hotel booked for that night, and I wanted to get that over with as soon as possible so that I could enjoy the rest of my time in Venice.

I eventually found the internet café, where I was able to find a hotel near the airport for a reasonable price. There was a phone there, as well, so I called them and reserved a room. Now I was free to roam around. I decided to go to the Piazza San Marco, which is one of the main tourist attractions in Venice. So, I hopped on a water bus, which is just a medium-sized motorboat that can carry about 50 people, and spent the next 20 minutes or so on the canal. I got off at the San Marcos stop and walked to the plaza.

One of the most noticeable features was a tall bell tower, which had been constructed in the 12^th century. Near the bell tower was the Basilica di San Marco, which was built in the 9^th century in honor of Saint Mark. Apparently his sarcophagus is housed in the Basilica. There were ornate sculptures and decorations all over the oustide of the Basilica, and over the five entrances were colorful paintings depicting scences from Christian history. Over the main entrance, the risen Christ was depicted holding the cross. Off to the left was a woman I assumed to be Mary. I was amazed that Mary was not at the center, because every Catholic Church I had seen before had Mary as the central figure, with the dead or crucified Jesus off to the side. In fact, I couldn’t find any other reference to Mary on the outside of the church. I wanted to go inside, but there was a long line and backpacks weren’t allowed inside, or even cameras. They had a place where one could leave their backpack, but I had my computer with me, and even though I had left my stuff unsecured in Verona, I figured I shouldn’t push my luck too much. So after standing around debating what to do, I finally decided to just walk around and see more of Venice. I didn’t have long because I had to take a four hour trip back to Milan that evening.

I returned to the train station at about 5:00. I bought some dinner and some water to take with me on the train, and I spent some time selecting souvenirs. I then went back to the station to pick up my bag and buy my ticket, then boarded the train. I had walked so much my feet were hurting. The train left at 6:25, and I didn’t make it to the airport until 10:15. I found a pay phone, so I called the hotel to ask them to send a shuttle to pick me up. The shuttle came 15 minutes later, and another 15 minutes later I was at the hotel.

I woke up refreshed the next morning, having slept in a comfortable bed and a quiet place. I left the hotel in their shuttle at 8:30a.m. and by 11:15a.m. I was on my way back to the U.S. I was glad for the sightseeing I had done, but I was exhausted and glad to be going back to more familiar surroundings. Apparently, I left just in time. A day or two later, I may have been stuck in Europe from volcano Eyjafjallajoekull!