Oh Venice, how you suck me in.

Sunday morning, I woke early to check out of my hostel & whilst packing up, I met my new roommate, Jessica, an American student, studying in Marseille.  We chatted about life in France, my date with Italian Beard & my plans to leave Venice.  I was kind of sad that I should meet her, just as I was leaving, but, unfortunately, this is the life when you're traveling.  Everyone is just passing by.

Having wasted my one full day in Venice, marching at great speed towards empty destinations, I wanted to make sure I at least saw the Guggenheim before I departed.  Unfortunately, me being me, despite wanting to evacuate the island pronto & catch the train to Verona early, I felt guilty about abandoning IB & so ended up messaging him, to see if he still wanted to go.

Leaving my bags at the hostel, I hopped on the vaporetto for Accademia, only for it to turn out to be going in the wrong direction.  Thus, instead of two stops, I had to endure about seven & was sat on the bloody thing for an hour.  You'd think I'd have got the hang of this by now.  Clearly not.

Locating IB, we headed off for the Guggenheim, paid the €12 entry fee each & dumped our bags at the bag check.  I'm no expert when it comes to art, but I do have a fondness & a keen appreciation.  IB being an art student however, made him my tour guide through the entire building.  I started to appreciate art less after that.

Gawping at the works by my favourite artist Pollock, eying up some prints by Warhol & getting lost in the surrealism of Dalí & eventually ending up at my most favourite of places, the gift store!  Made sure to buy a postcard or two, one to send, one to keep as a souvenir.  There's something about the glorious, overpriced tat of a gift store, that makes me overwhelmed with glee.

Leaving the Guggenheim behind, we strolled off to another museum, which for €15 entry, I decided I'd had enough of art for the day & so, left IB to it & went off to snap photos.  Meeting up with him an hour or so later, we finally made it into the St Maria of Salute Basilica for a look around.  Nothing to write home about, but at least it was free entry.

Finally the time came to depart Venice & thinking IB was going to come with me to my hostel to collect my things, before heading to the station, I was surprised when he essentially dumped me at the vaporetto stop, in order to walk to there, alone.  An awkward goodbye & he was off.  Ciao, thanks for...well, not much really.

Solemnly heading off to my hostel, I sat in the lobby, attempting to charge my dead phone & decide what on earth I was doing.  After a message or two to Miss Charlotte, I finally gave up on the idea of going anywhere for the day & checked back into my hostel.  I don't know what it is about me & decision making, but I get myself in such a twist, I really do.  You should see me try to decide between lunch options!

Ending up back in the same room, even in the same bed, I was happy to see Jessica again & the two of us went off on the vaporetto, once again, to San Marco.  We spent the evening getting to know each other, chatting & swapping stories.  Mine seem to mostly revolve around men, which is somewhat worrying.  'There's always a guy!'  There is though, there really always is.  Just a shame I can't seem to find the right one!

Venice, where love is but a mystery.

I've been absent, I apologise, you see, the past week has been rather hectic...

Last Saturday morning in Venice, I awoke with a feeling of nervous excitement.  What if Italian Beard & I didn't get on.  What if it was the alcohol that had made him so alluring.  Getting ready, I headed down to the vaporetto stop & took the number two to the train station.  Praying to God this meeting was going to go well.  Just as I was head down, typing away on my phone, IB appeared beside me.  He was still good looking in the daylight.  A relief.  Dressed in skinny jeans, Converse sneakers & a beanie.

We walked over to San Marco square, the weather being less than impressive.  Thankfully not too cold, but very overcast.  I was hoping to palm my camera off on him all day, make use of his photography skills, but when he took out an SLR with a very impressive lens, I began to feel shy about my measly number.  Having wanted to spend the day taking excessive amounts of photos, I found myself almost too embarrassed to take any at all.  Was he going to judge me on my snaps.  They were never going to compare to his.  He was fiddling with settings, doing test shots, I normally just point & shoot.

After a little while, we took a break on a bench & attempted a conversation.  I soon realised our outlook on life was somewhat separated & my disappointment began to set in.  It was nearly noon & IB wanted to go somewhere for lunch.  I usually snack, backpacking round Europe for six months doesn't often afford you the luxury of eating out.  Whipping my phone out, I found some vegan friendly places to eat, through the HappyCow website.  Picking one, I located it on Google Maps & with IB saying he knew where  it was, we went off in search of it.

Walking along to the Castello district, past the Biennale, the streets becoming more & more desolate, my feet beginning to tire, there seemed no sight of an eatery.  Over an hour went by, looking, looking & still, nothing.  Checking Google Maps again, it seemed we were no where near the place.  We both became so famished & tired, we gave up & IB picked a bar to sit at, back in San Marco.  I looked at the menu, €6 for a panini!  Cripes.  Spent that for a week's groceries in Pisa.  Still, I was sure he'd be a gentleman & pay.

Ordering a vegetable panini, minus the mozzarella & a small bottle of water, when it came, it severely lacked any flavour.  Conversation between IB & I had equally dried up to an implantable level.  When the bill arrived, €14.50, IB said he had €10 & put it down.  I equally only had a €10 note, so threw it into the pot.  Okay, I thought, €4.50, it's not too bad.  But when the change came, which was already short a euro, IB gave me €2!  €8, I spent €8 on a panini & a sip of water.  I was beside myself with annoyance.  Should I say something.  What could I say, thanks for spending €80 on the train to see me, but hey, could you give me my change please?

Being an art student, Italian Beard wanted to go see the Guggenheim & the St Maria of Salute Basilica.  Off we set, in their direction, blindly following his lead once again, presuming, that as an Italian, who'd been to Venice before, he'd know his way around.  However, this turned out to be rather a misconception, as we turned left & then right, over a bridge, round a corner, came to a dead end, back round, over another bridge, round another corner & so on for several hours.

My feet began to hurt, I was tired & getting hungry, still smarting from my €8 panini.  It got dark, it got cold.  Finally, we made it to the Guggenheim.  It had closed minutes before.  Drat.  A few minutes walk away was the church.  Also closed.  Double drat.  By this time I wanted to punch him in the face.  As a first date, things were not going well.

IB then wanted to go & check in at the police station, where he was bedding down for the night.  His father is a policeman & so, as family, he gets to use the accommodation available at any police station all over Italy.  Still worked out more expensive than the hostel I was staying in, but hey, I guess it's the novelty factor.  The station is set just outside of the main island, in Venice Mestre.  A ten minute bus ride away.  Once there, he checked in & then not long after, we hopped on a bus back.  All a bit pointless really & I was starting to feel as though the whole day had been.

By the time we got back to San Marco, it was late.  We'd picked Frary's vegan friendly restaurant, in San Polo for dinner & it closed at ten thirty.  Speed walking in the dark, I indicated to turn right, he said to go straight.  Off we trekked ahead, coming to a dead end & ended up doing a u-turn back to where I had bloody said to go.  Looking at the time, it was now ten twenty & I was about ready to eat my arm, after first ripping it off & beating him with it.  Finally we made it to the restaurant & thankfully, despite the time, they let us in to eat.

Frary's is a middle eastern restaurant, run by a group of Italian woman, that serves non-veg food, but has both vegetarian & vegan options.  I had a mammoth bowl of couscous, laden with roasted vegetables & accompanied by a vegetable soup, which I poured over, like a sauce.  It was quite delicious & I would recommend a visit.  Sadly, despite the good food & Billie Holiday playing out my favourite songs, the atmosphere between IB & I was awkward to say the least.  Every time I tried to strike up a conversation, he just seemed so uninterested.  I just gave up in the end.  At one point we sat in silence, both on our phones.

It is safe to say, that my hopes for an Italian photographer husband had dissolved.  Grateful that he paid the bill, we left, hopped on a vaporetto & departed ways at different stops.  It may be the most romantic thing someone's done for me, coming to Venice to see me, but sadly, it was clear, that being good on paper, just isn't enough.  If there's no spark, no common ground, then really, there's nothing.

I lost myself to Venice.

Waking up in Florence, after two hours sleep, I forced myself up & back into last night's clothes, in order to catch my bus to Venice.  I can't lie, I was harbouring an odour; a concoction of cigarettes, alcohol & my unwashed skin.  Things were not improved by last night's makeup still plastered precariously on my face.

Arriving excessively early for the bus, I sat & chatted to a young German girl, who was on her way to Milan.  We caught the bus to Bologna together & then parted ways.  I never even asked her name.  That's the strange thing about traveling, you meet so many people.  Some go on to be acquaintances you keep an eye on through social media, others lifelong friends & some, you never even know their name.  Such is this life.

Arriving in Venice after a five hour snooze, I wheeled my bag into the tourist office & bought myself a Rolling Venice Card.  This card is essential & if like me, you are twenty nine & under, it comes with a reduction.  For seventy two hours unlimited travel on all public transport, it costs €20 & an extra €4 for a booklet, which equally offers you reductions on everything from shopping to galleries & museums.  Without this, it is €7 each time you want to take the vaporetto!

Off I went to the nearest vaporetto stop, validating my card on the machine outside, before hopping on the number two & arriving on the island of Giudecca, by way of the Zitelle stop.  Checking in at the Generator Hostel, I was pleasantly surprised by how awesome it is!  For only €15 a night, this place is incredible & makes me wonder why all hostels aren't this way!  There's a free photo booth, a mish mash of vintage furniture & giant button-back leather sofas all downstairs, surrounding a cocktail & coffee bar.  The elevators are touch screen, there's exposed brick at every turn & the bedrooms, although lacking some essential lighting in places, are clean, modern & come with an en suite.  Having hostels in Barcelona, Berlin, Copenhagen, Hamburg & Dublin, I would say, if you're off on your travels, choose the Generator!

It was already late in the afternoon by the time I arrived & so, after dropping my things off in my room, I decided to go for a stroll around Giudecca, to investigate the island.  The weather was at times rather drizzly, but for most of it, there was some sun & so, I managed to take a few snaps.  Everything in Venice wants to be photographed.  From the laundry drying on lines between buildings, to the gondolas floating impatiently at the dockside.  Everything screams at you, demanding attention.  Although, I am convinced that I need a new camera, as I swear, all of my photos seem to come out blurry!  It's probably just my lack of photography skills in fairness, but I'll blame the camera in any case. 

Having my fill of the tiny island, I decided to take myself across on the vaporetto to San Marco, still using line two.  It was getting dark by this time & cold.  I took the advice of my friend Katie & decided to just get lost.  Strolling down alleyways, taking a left, than a right, over a bridge, round a corner.  So many shops, gleaming with trinkets & surprisingly very few people around.

Time ticked on & heading down yet another tiny road, I overhead someone ask for directions.  The Italian gentleman they were asking, responded, informing them that said vaporetto stop was closed.  Suddenly I panicked.  I didn't think to check what time the buses stopped!  Wide eyed, I started to head back for my stop, only I realised, I really was lost.  It got darker, it began to rain, the cold set in, I became fraught, imagining myself stuck on the wrong side of Venice all night.  Finally finding a stop, I leapt onto the bus as soon as it arrived & felt relief wash over me.

Unfortunately, it soon returned, as I came to realise this was not the right vaporetto.  Heading further & further away from where I wanted to be, I couldn't decided as to whether it would be better to hop off when I could, or stay on in the hope it would come back round.  Feeling sick that I'd miss the last bus, I finally asked one of the staff on board, who told me to stay on, as the boat would go full circle & I could get off where I started & then get on the right one.

Over an hour later, I finally made it back to Giudecca & back to the Generator.  Still feeling the sway of the boat, as I sat on my top bunk.  Maybe getting lost in Venice wasn't such a great idea after all.   Pulling my phone from my bag, I saw I had a message, from Beard, he was coming to see me in Venice the next day.  Could it be, things were on the upturn?