So Venice has been pretty fun. Well, “fun” seems like the wrong word. “Picturesque,” perhaps. “Expensive” is another word you could use – seriously, this city is like twice the price as the rest of Italy. “Full of tourists even in the winter” is probably the most accurate description. I’ve gotten stuck in streets between people because it’s been so crowded. I don’t even want to think about how it would be in the summer.Anyway, so last we spoke, I was dying in McDonald’s. Once it was time to check into our hotel, we did so immediately, and literally crawled into bed and slept for an hour and a half. See, that’s the problem with overnight trips: you often end up screwing up your day anyway, because you’re too tired to do much of anything.
The day did not end up being more exciting than that: we concluded it with doing just about all of our laundry while learning that trash cans come in handy as makeshift washing machines, and found creative ways to hang up laundry in the room/outside the room/shared bathroom. What a glamorous life I lead.
BUT IT GETS BETTER. We figured that the best idea to save money (food here is ridiculously overpriced) was to go grocery shopping, get some stuff for breakfast for the next few mornings, some snacks, and some dinner for that night. I got a cold slice of pizza from the prepared foods area, and we ate in bed watching television and drinking boxed wine.
It was here that I started reading about the school shooting in America. I had been avoiding it as long as I could, but I needed to know. And it completely fucked me up. I’m so frustrated and sad and angry with my country. Other countries DON’T HAVE THESE PROBLEMS. And it’s not because they’re better people. There are actually a lot of reasons, in my opinion. First off, gun control. Most other countries have way better safety standards than us. (And yet Kinder Eggs are illegal.) Secondly, more comprehensive health care systems. People that are struggling with mental illness often can’t get the help they need due to America’s way-too-expensive healthcare. Also most people that have like, killed a bunch of people don’t even have diagnosable mental illness ANYWAY. Thirdly, there is way too much of a stigma about mental health in general: I think EVERYONE should be seeing a therapist, regardless of if they are mentally ill. Everyone needs to talk. Everyone needs to vent. Everyone needs to find healthy outlets for their anger. And then (I think we are on number four now) there is the insane pressure that Americans put on themselves and each other. We make it virtually impossible for anyone to ever be content. We are always trying to be better than everyone, more successful, blah blah blah. And then (fifthly?) there is the huge socioeconomic divide in our country. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer, college loans are insanely expensive, so many people are living in debt, and it just keeps going in circles. And then, finally (I keep adding reasons, but I think this is it) there’s this obsession with fame and notoriety we have, with Hollywood and car crashes and dramatic gestures. Of course people feel desperate. Of course they want to go out with a bang- they aren’t getting anywhere anyway. And yeah, of course things also have to do with misogyny and racism and hatred – but I think that all comes from a place of sadness and hurt and desperation. I don’t believe people are evil. People do things for reasons. They’re certainly not always good reasons, but they think it will change something.
I could go on about this for another page and a half, but I don’t think anyone REALLY wants to read that. Anyway.
About half an hour after the pizza, just as I was recovering from reading the news, I started feeling awful. Like, really awful. Like, my stomach twisted up and I suddenly started sweating and…dammit. I got food poisoning. SO MUCH FUN. But as miserable as I was, I was SO grateful that this hadn’t happened the night before. You know, on the overnight bus. That would have been…nope. But yeah. There was puking and being miserable and eventually taking a Zofran so I could sleep. Not my best day, and certainly not my favorite way to start off Venice.
The next day I woke up feeling way better. That is, until the owner of the hotel came and yelled at us for DOING OUR LAUNDRY. He was mad that we left it drying places, I guess? We couldn’t really figure it out. He stormed into our room and was like, “can’t you read English? It says it on our rules RIGHT HERE.” And it was a RULE on the stupid RULE SHEET that said no doing laundry in the building, not even in the bathroom. Like, uh, sorry but chill the fuck out. We really liked that place until that all happened. Anyway.
We had really no agenda other than walking around and seeing some big church thing, and we took that to heart. We wandered around most of the city, stopping in places that seemed cool. (Usually it was me doing the stopping.) There are SO MANY ARTISANS in Venice! Every three steps was another shop with completely original and unique artwork. I wanted to go EVERYWHERE. It’s also super easy to get lost in Venice between all the canals, winding roads, and narrow alleys, which made things much more exciting.
While we were eating lunch (well, just a few noodles for me, my stomach was still a bit ehh) I realized that there was a theatre about a four minute walk from us – and it was the Big Deal Venice Theatre. The one that plays fancy operas and ballets and shit. Naturally I had to stop there, and it turns out that “The Barber of Seville” was playing that night, and we could get really cheap tickets for really shitty seats! So we did that YAY! I hadn’t seen a show in a super long time, and literally the only operas I’ve ever seen are the two I saw in Vienna – and Kiwi Guy sees next to no theatre and has never been to an opera!
We were feeling a bit sleepy, so we headed back to the hotel for a quick rest before the show, but I am addicted to my phone and planning shit, which for the first time turned out to be a really useful thing for once. I realized that I had to print out my boarding pass and stuff, and that all the copy places were closed over the weekend- and my flight was Sunday. I still had about 45 minutes before the closest copy shop closed, so I ran there, made friends with the shop owner, and headed back to our place.
Then it was time for the opera! We had pretty terrible seats, and it was mostly sold out so unfortunately we couldn’t slip into a better seat like I usually do. But it was so much fun. I enjoyed it SO much more than the operas I saw in Vienna, even though opera is supposed to be a big deal there. For one, this was a comedy, which for me makes a ton of difference. If you’re going to watch a three hour show, a comedy is a lot easier to sit through. Except that I’m a sucker for Les Mis. But in general, yeah. But besides the fact that it was written to be funny, I thought the direction was way more interesting than the dramas I saw in Vienna, where they stood in place and sang at each other for ten years. The actors actually used their bodies. They had choreography. They DID things on stage, they used their actions to emphasize moments in the music, and they still sang beautifully. For example, their microblocking was hilarious. In one moment, the ingenue was writing a letter and used the music for each line she wrote and the powder to dry the ink, and then the musical button was her blowing the excess powder off. It felt a lot more like watching a musical comedy than what I imagine opera to be, and I very much enjoyed myself. Well, minus the woman who was sitting in front of me who glared at me anytime I laughed. I don’t understand people.
The next day we decided to go to the islands of Burano and Murano. We caught a 45-minute long ferry to Burano, which is a tiny island north of Venice. It is known for its brightly colored houses, which originated back in the day when people separated their properties by painting them different colors – and the tradition stuck. It’s impossible to see how anyone could ever be unhappy there; all you would have to do if you were sad is go outside and look around. The colorful facades just make you HAPPY. We took a bunch of photos, grabbed lunch, did a bit of shopping, then headed back to the ferry for Murano.
Murano was surprising in that there is literally NOTHING but glass sellers. Like actually nothing. Every single shop was full of glass. Which was both beautiful and slightly scary because I am a rhinoceros and sometimes break things (I didn’t). We saw a glass blowing demonstration, walked around a bit, and I shopped for pretty jewelry while Kiwi Guy begrudgingly followed me around. I had quite the conversation with a wonderful glass seller, who used to work on the production side. Naturally, the two questions I asked him were “did you burn yourself a lot?!” and “what’s the most expensive thing you ever broke?” His answers (not direct quotes because he was very Italian): “Only about a million times” and “yeah, uh, the worst was a piece we had been working on for two weeks that was worth $37,000…” He had dropped it going down the steps in the shop. Whoops!
After we got back to Venice, it was time for the thing I had been looking forward to for YEARS – I was finally going to buy a Venetian mask! I already knew what shop I was going to go to – it was right by our hotel, one of the most famous ones in Venice, and you can watch them working while you’re shopping. Plus, they actually had some great prices. I accidentally bought three (but two of them were on sale). And I’m still super excited about them.
We split a bottle of champagne, then went out to a super Italian dinner. And then split another bottle of Champagne back in the room, but I actually fell asleep halfway through the bottle and the movie we were watching because too much alcohol.
And now it’s today! Checked out of our place, writing this stuff, and heading to the airport in a few hours to go to Marrakech, Morocco, which I’m both excited and slightly nervous about. As long as I can get to my hostel in one piece I should survive!