Venice, Italy- February 6, 2009

We woke up early this morning to make the 3 hour drive to Venice. We decided that if we ever came back to Italy, we likely wouldn't be any closer to Venice than we were this trip...and if we never came back, we would be sad to miss seeing such a unique city. So, we made today a road trip day.

We packed what few snacks we had with us into the car, strapped Weslee in and headed off on our next wild adventure. This is where we got our first understanding of how crazy Italian drivers really are. When you go to any European city, you expect mayhem. For instance, the drivers in London would as soon run you over as yield for a pedestrian. Their line of thinking seems to be something like this. "My car is not very big, but it's bigger than you...and if you want to play chicken, be my guest. But, I'm encased in metal, and you are nothing but flesh and bones. So, if you don't want to be a greasy smear on the pavement, you'd better move out of my way." (Like I said, it's a loose translation. The way they'd say it in British English is rather unintelligible, so I have to make up words to go along with their actions. This, to me, is what their actions are saying.) But, the actions in any European city speak the same thing. It's a "get what I can, while I can get it" type of an attitude when European city dwellers are in their cars.

This is particularly true for Italians. As you approach a red traffic light, there may be three lanes painted onto the pavement, but that doesn't mean that just three cars should line up there in neat little lines. Oh no! Let's all cram up to the white line and have 9 cars revving their little engines, daring to be first. And, let's throw in a couple of scooters in between them all. When the light turns green, everyone floors it...whether you're in the front of the line or the back of the line. You hit the gas with everything you've got and pray that the person in front of you moves fast enough. The cars weave in and out of the painted lines and the whole time, you feel as if you're cheating death. It's a wonder anyone is still alive in Italy. That's all I can say. One of our friends, Dave Cassat, who served a mission in Italy told us that traffic rules in Italy are more like suggestions, not finite regulations that are enforced.

So, like I said, we were expecting craziness in the city, but we were not prepared for it to continue on the highways, where there was little, if any, traffic. We noticed that the Italian drivers would weave all over the road, like drunkards, with little regard for any cars that might be around them. There were several times that we'd be driving in the left lane and the car in the right lane would drift over the line toward us and then slowly drift back into their own lane. It was crazy. There was no "safe" place.

Anyway, around noon, we finally made it to Venice. We crossed over a long bridge to the island where we abruptly had to choose from 2 different parking garages. You see, in Venice, there are no cars...just boats. You park your car right when you get there, and you either walk or you ride a boat to wherever else in Venice you'd like to go. We were headed to a restaurant I had researched on the internet, Taverna San Trovaso, but we had no idea where to look for it. We just knew it was in the "Dorsoduro" part of the city.

Finally, Kevin was able to make sense of our map and we began our slow trek across the maze of canals, bridges and narrow walkways. I have never seen anything quite like Venice. The water was an amazing turquoise color, ebbing and flowing between ancient buildings that looked like they rose from the depths. In front of the homes, motor boats were tied to their moorings and secured with tarps so the rain couldn't get it.

When we arrived, it was cloudy, but the rain hadn't started yet. The sky threatened, but we came with an umbrella and weren't too worried. We finally found our way to the restaurant and had a pretty good meal. Kevin enjoyed his lasagna, but I wasn't too impressed with my pasta. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't spectacular. We were some of the last customers to exit before siesta began.

After dinner, we roamed around for a while. We didn't come to Venice with any specific plans. We just wanted to see the city, more than anything. I stopped often for pictures of the canals. We passed a little bakery on our way to San Marcos Square. I bought a few little tarts and chocolate pastries. We ate them while we walked.

When we got to San Marcos Square, about a half hour's walk from our car, it began to rain steadily. Weslee held the umbrella over his head and Kevin and I were left to the elements. We found shelter under the various shops. By the time we reached San Marcos Square, it was getting late. Weslee was tired. We were sopping wet. We decided to head back to the car, walking a different way.

We saw so many high end shops and jewelry stores. Italian leather and silk was everywhere. As beautiful as it was, it just wasn't my kind of atmosphere. I'm not a "high-end" person. I never have been. I felt somewhat out of place.

By the time we got to our car, nearly an hour later, we were drenched. Weslee was exhausted. We had lost our way in the maze of buildings several times. It felt so good to get out of our jackets and warm ourselves in front of the heating vents. Weslee fell asleep, and we ate the remainder of the tarts. Kevin braved the crazy drivers for another 3 hours, even though he was exhausted too. We swung by the Gelateria dei Neri in Florence on our way home for some blackberry and strawberry gelato and headed to our comfy condo for our last night's sleep in Italy.