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August 3-7, 2001
Renato Jr. and I took a train to Venice
by way of Bologna on Friday. I booked a room on
the Lido so that we could visit his friend, Miles, who has
spent every summer there since he was 3 years old. Renato
thinks all of Italy is mountains and farms; Miles thinks Italy
is the Adriatic coast. The intention was to do a swap and
broaden their horizons a little.
| I was only 12 years old when I last visited Venice,
and to tell the truth I was a little uneasy as our train
pulled in. For some reason I felt more like a foreigner
than I usually do when visiting other Italian cities.
Maybe that's because I've only ever visited Tuscan cities
and regional cultures vary so much you might as well be
in a different country. I put on a brave face for
my boy, though, and exiting the station we easily found
the "vaporetti"
(steam boats) that act as the main form of public transportation
in this city of islands and canals. Renato seemed
properly awed as we approached the grand canal. |
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At right: The object is to
pass the orange from your chin to your teammate's, then
drop it into a bucket. It's harder than it looks.
Far right: Franca's niece
and nephew and their friends in front of the cabanas
where we planted ourserlves and drank white wine spritzers
all day, every day.
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My intention was
to spend mornings in the city, then afternoons on the
beach at Lido with Miles and his family -- but it didn't
really work out that way. Even though our kids go
to school together and we live within two miles of each
other in NYC, I had never really spent any time getting
to know Miles's mom and dad, Franca and Richard (pictured
at left). They were at the tail end of their stay
and their company was a pleasure, so I spent more time
on Lido than taking in the sights. I figured Venice
wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Franca threw a marvelous birthday party for Miles on
Saturday -- she paired the children into teams and had
them compete in five events, including a game she calls
"Sexy Orange," which was a big hit with both the kids
and onlookers.
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The boys had a blast swimming, building sandcastles,
eating ice-cream and doing all the things kids do at the
beach. I don't think Miles has ever been to any
North Atlantic beaches, judging by what he called "gigantic
waves," and I'm determined to take him out to Robert
Moses State Park if the weather is still good in September
when he returns so that he'll know what a real wave looks
like. But the Adriatic was beautiful -- warm, shallow
enough to wade out a half a mile, and -- best of all --
full of clams and mussels, which Franca served for supper
one night. |
I did manage to squeeze in one
tourist-type day in the city. We got up early Monday
morning and hit Piazza San Marco, where I did something
I never thought I'd ever do: I fed disgusting, filthy,
pigeons from my hand. Here I am at right, friend
to all living creatures.
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I also took the boys for
a ride on a gondola. Here they are as we passed
under the Rialto, which my son stated was the ugliest
bridge he's ever seen. I think he offended
our hosts, but I also think he said the same thing
about the Ponte Vecchio in Firenze.
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So we're back in Pontremoli now -- Miles is with us.
Here it goes the other way around -- the pigeons feed
me (okay, they're not pigeons, they're quails -- birds
are still filthy animals. I'll post some photos
of Gina's chickens to prove it).
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The most impressive things I saw
in Venice were the "montascale" devices which wheelchair-bound
folks can use to get up and down the steps of just about
every bridge. Why ruin centuries-old architecture
with ramps?
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copyright 2002-2007 melissa cahill
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