Italy?!
Yes, Italy!!
With only one day left in Europe, and that day slotted for visiting the local Nazi concentration camps, I can safely say, that the best part of my Poland trip, was the Italians I met here, (In Poland - most of the film crew is from Rome) the Italian food I ate here, and the trip to Venice Jamie, the greatest boss ever, along with Joan, his lovely traveling companion, arranged as a treat during one of his breaks from shooting.
The only thing Italy and Poland have in common is the Pope/Church thing – and somehow, even that is more charming en Itallia.
I was in Poland for 11 hours when I was whisked away by Austrian airlines to Venice, Italy.
Ahhh Vennezia…
The last time I was in Venice, two and a half years ago, with my sister Abigail, it was January, it was snowing, and I was in a completely different tax bracket making it almost impossible to exist there for more that two days. Venice is extremely expensive and the Euro is kicking the Dollar’s ass.
There are only two things about Venice that aren’t quite as amazing as the rest of Italy:
Seat-less toilets…why?
And a ridiculous amount of tourists resulting in outrageous prices almost everywhere you go.
Everything else in Venice is spectacular – everything. It is not entirely fair for me to sit and write about Italy from a mediocre restaurant in Poland – perspective is everything – I was a big fan of Italy to begin with and it’s life and luster is only further highlighted by the frowns and potatoes of eastern Europe.
But!
Here I sit and it gives me nothing but warm, fuzzy feelings to bring you a bit of Venetian life from this Polish barstool.
Venice, with it’s twisting canals, and salt weathered walls is, quite possibly the most beautiful place I have ever seen. The beauty of this floating town more than makes up for the hoards of tourists buying Gucci handbags and the lack of toilet seats.
Fortunately, our hotel, Hotel San Moisé, did have toilet seats. My room looked similar to an old chapel with low, wooden beamed ceilings and a smattering of Venetian glass for color. The hotel was located just off San Marco Square, by far the most tourist-y area of town but full of cafes, pigeons, music and activity.
Upon our arrival, Joan and I took a restaurant suggestion from the concierge at our hotel and walked through tiny alleys and over two bridges to Galileo for an amazing dinner of fish and vegetables.
You really can’t eat enough when in Italy. You simply must eat three meals a day because any meal you skip is a missed opportunity.
Venice is all eat and stare with wonder…sit and drink coffee and stare, and draw, and listen and stare and write and stare and eat some more, while staring. It is hard to actually do anything but stare at the beauty all around you. Every corner you round takes your breath away.
The Italians are full of life – you can taste it in their food, in their wine – you can easily see it all over their faces – they actually appear to be glistening.
Venice is a town that cannot be crossed of your list when you are done because there is simply, no way to finish - too much to see, and the thought of never going back can actually give you stomach pain.
I spent all five days completely lost in the serpentine alleys that turn you around and around until you wind up where you started, laughing it up with a guy who has watched you walk by his gellateria 5 times thinking you where going places.
Sure – I’ll have a small cup of vanilla…
If you need to actually get somewhere – the locals are more than happy to direct you. They will say:
Cross the square, go down the road to your left – over two bridges and then ask someone again.
You will always get there – but often will have to ask fifteen, twenty people in the process which is really no problem because every one of them smiles, places their hand on your back like an old friend, points, waves, and explains – no trouble at all.
I felt at home in Italy from my first sip of espresso. Yum by the way…
The coffee in Poland is surprisingly decent – far better than the US, but the coffee in Italy is completely obscene.
To go from Italy to the USA is hard, but leaving Italy and flying to Poland actually kills brain cells.
I cannot wait to go back.
With only one day left in Europe, and that day slotted for visiting the local Nazi concentration camps, I can safely say, that the best part of my Poland trip, was the Italians I met here, (In Poland - most of the film crew is from Rome) the Italian food I ate here, and the trip to Venice Jamie, the greatest boss ever, along with Joan, his lovely traveling companion, arranged as a treat during one of his breaks from shooting.
The only thing Italy and Poland have in common is the Pope/Church thing – and somehow, even that is more charming en Itallia.
I was in Poland for 11 hours when I was whisked away by Austrian airlines to Venice, Italy.
Ahhh Vennezia…
The last time I was in Venice, two and a half years ago, with my sister Abigail, it was January, it was snowing, and I was in a completely different tax bracket making it almost impossible to exist there for more that two days. Venice is extremely expensive and the Euro is kicking the Dollar’s ass.
There are only two things about Venice that aren’t quite as amazing as the rest of Italy:
Seat-less toilets…why?
And a ridiculous amount of tourists resulting in outrageous prices almost everywhere you go.
Everything else in Venice is spectacular – everything. It is not entirely fair for me to sit and write about Italy from a mediocre restaurant in Poland – perspective is everything – I was a big fan of Italy to begin with and it’s life and luster is only further highlighted by the frowns and potatoes of eastern Europe.
But!
Here I sit and it gives me nothing but warm, fuzzy feelings to bring you a bit of Venetian life from this Polish barstool.
Venice, with it’s twisting canals, and salt weathered walls is, quite possibly the most beautiful place I have ever seen. The beauty of this floating town more than makes up for the hoards of tourists buying Gucci handbags and the lack of toilet seats.
Fortunately, our hotel, Hotel San Moisé, did have toilet seats. My room looked similar to an old chapel with low, wooden beamed ceilings and a smattering of Venetian glass for color. The hotel was located just off San Marco Square, by far the most tourist-y area of town but full of cafes, pigeons, music and activity.
Upon our arrival, Joan and I took a restaurant suggestion from the concierge at our hotel and walked through tiny alleys and over two bridges to Galileo for an amazing dinner of fish and vegetables.
You really can’t eat enough when in Italy. You simply must eat three meals a day because any meal you skip is a missed opportunity.
Venice is all eat and stare with wonder…sit and drink coffee and stare, and draw, and listen and stare and write and stare and eat some more, while staring. It is hard to actually do anything but stare at the beauty all around you. Every corner you round takes your breath away.
The Italians are full of life – you can taste it in their food, in their wine – you can easily see it all over their faces – they actually appear to be glistening.
Venice is a town that cannot be crossed of your list when you are done because there is simply, no way to finish - too much to see, and the thought of never going back can actually give you stomach pain.
I spent all five days completely lost in the serpentine alleys that turn you around and around until you wind up where you started, laughing it up with a guy who has watched you walk by his gellateria 5 times thinking you where going places.
Sure – I’ll have a small cup of vanilla…
If you need to actually get somewhere – the locals are more than happy to direct you. They will say:
Cross the square, go down the road to your left – over two bridges and then ask someone again.
You will always get there – but often will have to ask fifteen, twenty people in the process which is really no problem because every one of them smiles, places their hand on your back like an old friend, points, waves, and explains – no trouble at all.
I felt at home in Italy from my first sip of espresso. Yum by the way…
The coffee in Poland is surprisingly decent – far better than the US, but the coffee in Italy is completely obscene.
To go from Italy to the USA is hard, but leaving Italy and flying to Poland actually kills brain cells.
I cannot wait to go back.
posted by Freckles at
7:52 AM
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