Day 38 - Hello Venice

I tried to find an internet place in Venice, but the one I found was full, so I'm using the obscenely expensive internet at Hotel Belvedere. (five euros an hour) Regardless, there are definitely stories to relate.

• Catacombs. After taking the metro across town and waiting forty five minutes for a different bus than Let's Go recommended, I did make it to San Castillo (as opposed to the four other catacombs in Rome) with an hour to spare. You have to go down with a tour guide and only go down two of the four levels. That's probably just as well as I'm sure someone in the tour group would have freaked at being over 120 feet underground. We did get to see where they buried popes during persecution. We also saw the tomb of Saint Cecilia, patron saint of music (which explains Paul Simon's reference to her on Rythm of the Saints). We also saw a bunch of normal tombs and a couple fancy family tombs with some remnants of wall paintings. This was the point at which they informed us we could take pictures without flash (as opposed to the signs which said we couldn't take any) so I have no photos of the pope hole or Saint Cecilia's statue. Overall the catacombs were okay.
• Last Night. I hit my second favorite pizza place and my favorite gelato place for my last night in Rome. I still haven't found a decent mushroom pizza anywhere. Baffling. On the other hand, I've found really great grapefruit gelato. ;)
• Rain. Just to let me know it was time to leave Rome, it was raining in the morning. This was the only day in Rome anyone bothered to check whether the people getting on the metro actually had passes.
• Train. Surprisingly enough, our italian train left on time. Then they made up for it with delays enroute. Once we paused ten minutes for a mechanical problem. Then we paused forty minutes. As we finally started moving again, we crossed a dark green bridge. Then I saw two people taking a picture on the opposite tracks. I then saw little cards marked "A", "B", "C", "D", "E" on the tracks. I couldn't quite make out what they were marking, but suddenly I got a chill about what they might be marking. Sure enough, someone tried to cross the high speed tracks on foot. I know there are veterans reading this who've seen far worse, but let's just say this was not something I expected from my European experience, which is almost funny considering half the items on my itinerary are memorials of one kind or another.
• Back to the Hostel. I found that my hostel is not on Venice propper (which is not surprising considering it isn't crazy expensive). So I caught a train back. I was developing a little sore throat, but with only a day and a half for Venice, that wasn't going to stop me.
• Venice. I basically just followed the signs to San Marco, with little detours to whatever side streets looked interesting. It's not easy to take a bad picture in Venice. But I was losing the light. Which was odd because it was only seven in the afternoon.
• Rain. The sprinkles began about seven thirty. They never got that bad, either. But between getting lost (mandatory in Venice as the streets often dead end at canals and the narrow streets make landmark spotting very difficult) and still stopping to take a few pictures, I was getting really wet. My sore throat was in full bloom, and I wasn't doing it any good being out in the wet and cold. I finally found my way back to San Marco and began following the signs back to the train station. Sounds easy, right? It isn't like it sounds. The signs are not always easy to find as you enter a square and somewhere is the sign. They aren't always lit, either, and it was well past dark. In one square I came across two businessmen also lost. I pointed them towards the next sign, and it was game on. I took point and kept a brisk pace. I felt a little bad for the businessmen in their hard shoes, but we weren't getting any drier. It was a lot of fun. When I saw a sign I would point toward the sign, then the direction it was pointing, and we were off again. There were a couple good "spots" of hard to see signs on my part, and even the businessmen were impressed. The pictures and stuff were great, but it's probably this event that I will most remember from my first night in Venice.

Well, so much for my first night in Venice. My throat feels a little better, so I'm headed out to Torcello (after I get my umbrella and my Yeats, that is). If anyone wants to follow along in your poetry primer, I'll be reading Broken Dreams. It's not really appropriate, but it's a great poem.