What's the Worse That Can Happen?
Forgive me for the delay in posts my friends. I have had very little internet access and when it has been possible-I'm of course no where near a computer. So, I have posted a few days late but taken my time each day to write as to not forget a single drop of the adventure. :)
Yesterday was our last full day in Venice, Wednesday May 11th. Although we are sad to know it's the last day, we want to enjoy it to the fullest. So we begin our day early yet again, with again, a breakfast provided by Fabio and his mother.
Breakfast. Who knew I could make myself become so crazy about breakfast? What has the United States done to me?
I know what the states has deprived me of. NUTELLA. Damn America.
Anyhoo, we return our blonde blue eyed passionate book binding man, Alexandro. I am so impressed with people over here and their remarkable memory--and they don't just remember you as a person--often, they'll even remember your name. Introduce yourself to me and I forget your name in about 20 seconds (and that's even if I say your name out loud).
The minute we walk in, I mean the minute we walk in, Alexandro remembers us and his promise from the day before yesterday to take us to his workshop where he makes his leather masks, the books are bound, and pencils are detailed. It's a small shop and I can't help but take a video of him explaining the process to the two of us. I mean, the passion behind his eyes and words-how excited he was getting as his hands dashed from one portion of the room to the next-just awesome. Such passion for bookmaking. I am in love with it.
After buying a scrapbook from him (I have a nerdy obsession for scrapbooking...*akward cough*) we then make our way to the Doge's Palace for our "Secret Tour".
If you ask me, it's not much of a secret if you tell us about it.
(Stop rolling your eyes. And Matt, you know you're chuckling at my corny joke!)
The tour is extensive and as all tours here in Italy, enlightening. There's so much history to take in that it's impossible to take it all in. And I adore the history but my ears perk up especially when the guide begins to talk about the people and their stories.
When I get to know people's lives I just revel in it. So thrilling to me to know that a person, such in this case, Casanova, tried to escape his first cell and how he did it. I love all the interesting and bizarre stories about different prisoners and their confessions. That, to me, is the most interesting.
I probably should have gone into pyschology or sociology. Hm.
To end our perfect day, after sitting on the boat to do our own personal tour of the Grand Canal and after the best gelato I've had so far that is the flavor of biscatta (I mean, it really tasted like the actual cookie! Can you say orgasmic?), we were scheduled for a pub crawl with a man named Alessandro.
An older gentleman, Alessandro led us from pub to pub with a group of about ten. Another part of Italy that I love-getting to know the culture. What better way to do that than through conversation, great food, and fantastic wine? We try cabernets, such as Corte Delle Rose, and a merlot. We have some snack foods from each pub-the first snack, I was the only really willing to try it and enjoyed it--anchovies with cheese in a fried type of pastry (I'll try anything once!).
But, again, like everything in Italy, nothing is like it is in the states. The anchovies aren't full of salt and smelling of that gross fish odor. These Italian little fishys have an indescrible before and after taste that I think I could actually eat for an entire meal! During the tour, we also enjoy calamari that is breaded ever so lightly, ham and cheese type passteries, spicy fried balls of salami and meatballs, and finally hand cut french friends and fried potatoes.
At one point, one of the women didn't want to try a food. Alessandro looked her perplexed asking her why she wouldn't try it. And I add "Worse case scenario-you just don't eat it ever again." Alessandro then smiled at us and pointed his finger and states,
"Even though you may not enjoy a certain food I give you, you enjoy it now. Because of the group, because you enjoy the food. You don't scarf it down. You're not rushing somewhere else. You enjoy the food."
I knew I liked this man for a reason.
Anyway, as we all eat and talk, Alessandro really talks very little about the history or even the food or wine. But I just loved the whole atmosphere of the entire evening--we met a family from Charlotte, a couple from Charleston, and two female best friends from Florida. It's the two women, Wanda and Jenny, who we connect with the most and by the end of the pub crawl, it's the four of us talking and drinking around the wooden barrell that acts as our table.
Before I know it, the tour is over and Allessandro tells us it's time to go. I look at my half glass of wine and not wanting to waste it, chug the sucker down. Overwhelmed with wine and amazing food, Chris and I thank Allessandro for the plesant evening and linger to talk to Wanda and Jenny. One of them finally asks what we are doing tonight and I look at Chris with a pout and say, "Can we go play?" Wanda looks at me and says "What time you have to catch a train tomorrow to Florence?"
I look at her with a smile and reply "It doesn't matter."
And I couldn't be more right. It sure doesn't matter. It's my last night in Venice, we have new friends, I just drank awesome wine and ate equally awesome food and I want to continue it for as long as humanly possible.
And we do. And Chris needs no convincing.
Soon, the four of us find ourselves in a square and a nice restaurant and it's there that I enjoy the best gnocchi of my life. Red sauce and shrimp combined on top. Um...amazing. And what's even more amazing is that the four of us enjoy getting to know one another (we all know how much Adrienne loves to make new friends!).
After the awesome meal, we part ways realizing that we'll all be in Florence at the same time and vow to have dinner together in that city as well. Numbers and emails exchanged, we give kisses and "Ciao!" 's as we part and Chris and I walk the city one last time in the perfect weather evening.
I may just move to Italy.
Tomorrow Florence. Early.
Till the next one! Ciao ciao!
Love love,
Adrienne
Yesterday was our last full day in Venice, Wednesday May 11th. Although we are sad to know it's the last day, we want to enjoy it to the fullest. So we begin our day early yet again, with again, a breakfast provided by Fabio and his mother.
Breakfast. Who knew I could make myself become so crazy about breakfast? What has the United States done to me?
I know what the states has deprived me of. NUTELLA. Damn America.
Anyhoo, we return our blonde blue eyed passionate book binding man, Alexandro. I am so impressed with people over here and their remarkable memory--and they don't just remember you as a person--often, they'll even remember your name. Introduce yourself to me and I forget your name in about 20 seconds (and that's even if I say your name out loud).
The minute we walk in, I mean the minute we walk in, Alexandro remembers us and his promise from the day before yesterday to take us to his workshop where he makes his leather masks, the books are bound, and pencils are detailed. It's a small shop and I can't help but take a video of him explaining the process to the two of us. I mean, the passion behind his eyes and words-how excited he was getting as his hands dashed from one portion of the room to the next-just awesome. Such passion for bookmaking. I am in love with it.
After buying a scrapbook from him (I have a nerdy obsession for scrapbooking...*akward cough*) we then make our way to the Doge's Palace for our "Secret Tour".
If you ask me, it's not much of a secret if you tell us about it.
(Stop rolling your eyes. And Matt, you know you're chuckling at my corny joke!)
The tour is extensive and as all tours here in Italy, enlightening. There's so much history to take in that it's impossible to take it all in. And I adore the history but my ears perk up especially when the guide begins to talk about the people and their stories.
When I get to know people's lives I just revel in it. So thrilling to me to know that a person, such in this case, Casanova, tried to escape his first cell and how he did it. I love all the interesting and bizarre stories about different prisoners and their confessions. That, to me, is the most interesting.
I probably should have gone into pyschology or sociology. Hm.
To end our perfect day, after sitting on the boat to do our own personal tour of the Grand Canal and after the best gelato I've had so far that is the flavor of biscatta (I mean, it really tasted like the actual cookie! Can you say orgasmic?), we were scheduled for a pub crawl with a man named Alessandro.
An older gentleman, Alessandro led us from pub to pub with a group of about ten. Another part of Italy that I love-getting to know the culture. What better way to do that than through conversation, great food, and fantastic wine? We try cabernets, such as Corte Delle Rose, and a merlot. We have some snack foods from each pub-the first snack, I was the only really willing to try it and enjoyed it--anchovies with cheese in a fried type of pastry (I'll try anything once!).
But, again, like everything in Italy, nothing is like it is in the states. The anchovies aren't full of salt and smelling of that gross fish odor. These Italian little fishys have an indescrible before and after taste that I think I could actually eat for an entire meal! During the tour, we also enjoy calamari that is breaded ever so lightly, ham and cheese type passteries, spicy fried balls of salami and meatballs, and finally hand cut french friends and fried potatoes.
At one point, one of the women didn't want to try a food. Alessandro looked her perplexed asking her why she wouldn't try it. And I add "Worse case scenario-you just don't eat it ever again." Alessandro then smiled at us and pointed his finger and states,
"Even though you may not enjoy a certain food I give you, you enjoy it now. Because of the group, because you enjoy the food. You don't scarf it down. You're not rushing somewhere else. You enjoy the food."
I knew I liked this man for a reason.
Anyway, as we all eat and talk, Alessandro really talks very little about the history or even the food or wine. But I just loved the whole atmosphere of the entire evening--we met a family from Charlotte, a couple from Charleston, and two female best friends from Florida. It's the two women, Wanda and Jenny, who we connect with the most and by the end of the pub crawl, it's the four of us talking and drinking around the wooden barrell that acts as our table.
Before I know it, the tour is over and Allessandro tells us it's time to go. I look at my half glass of wine and not wanting to waste it, chug the sucker down. Overwhelmed with wine and amazing food, Chris and I thank Allessandro for the plesant evening and linger to talk to Wanda and Jenny. One of them finally asks what we are doing tonight and I look at Chris with a pout and say, "Can we go play?" Wanda looks at me and says "What time you have to catch a train tomorrow to Florence?"
I look at her with a smile and reply "It doesn't matter."
And I couldn't be more right. It sure doesn't matter. It's my last night in Venice, we have new friends, I just drank awesome wine and ate equally awesome food and I want to continue it for as long as humanly possible.
And we do. And Chris needs no convincing.
Soon, the four of us find ourselves in a square and a nice restaurant and it's there that I enjoy the best gnocchi of my life. Red sauce and shrimp combined on top. Um...amazing. And what's even more amazing is that the four of us enjoy getting to know one another (we all know how much Adrienne loves to make new friends!).
After the awesome meal, we part ways realizing that we'll all be in Florence at the same time and vow to have dinner together in that city as well. Numbers and emails exchanged, we give kisses and "Ciao!" 's as we part and Chris and I walk the city one last time in the perfect weather evening.
I may just move to Italy.
Tomorrow Florence. Early.
Till the next one! Ciao ciao!
Love love,
Adrienne
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