Venezia
Night buses are never fun, but our final leg from Zadar to Pula, Pula to Trieste, Trieste to Venice at least gave me yet another reason to come back to Croatia. The Istrian coast (northern) is gorgeous, especially Rijeka and Pula. We also hit country number four on this ride with Slovenia-unfortunately however, we were refused stamps and therefore lack proof.
When we arrived in the MEstre we took a series of buses to get to our hotel (PS-Italian public transport makes NO sense. They don't list stops- but go by TURNS). Then we met up with Hannah's friend Heather.
Hannah and her two Venice Virgins then began to get our bearings. We watched the sun set on the Rialto and then made our way to san Marco. After an enjoyable evening we decided to go home and make a very late supper. Several wrong turns later, we sough directions from a waiter-who playfully pointed us in the direction of his apartment and then propositioned us for an orgy. My flirtatious skilsl sharpened, we turned him down as playfully and went the opposite way to ask again, preferably someone more reliable. We met several Americans who gave us a great map and pointed us towards ananas gelato (though not our hotel). However, I saved us by asking a friendly looking gentleman for directions, impressively, in great Italian, "Signore! Scusi, Piazzale di Roma?" thrilled at my accent apparently, he embraced us and pointed us in the correct direction.
Later that night, post our first healthy meal all wek we made friends with two guys studying in Heidelburg, who invited us out for a drink at a local bar. A mix of broken German, Spanish, Italian and Czech later we ordered. Nothing says class like chips, chessepuffs and the cheapest wine on the menu. We followed it up with the adolescent ritual of a Family Guy Marathon. Somehow, we never officially introduced ourselves until twenty four hours later.....
VENICE DAY TWO:
Next morning Hannah and I proved she has at least some culinary skill by making a scramble of eggs, feta and spinach. Venice remained enchanting (no cars! sun! water!) but crowded. I've never felt so attractive in my life as I did there. The local men aren't rude, they don't catcall like in the US, but they look intently-they STARE, repetitively as if to say "That's right, I'm looking at YOU, kid. Just YOU." It's almost a duel-will you break eye contact first? Are you brave enough to return the stare? Or even glance? Unsurprisingly, I always lost.
We made our way to Ferrovia to get Rick's suggested Rolling Venice card. But we proved him not to be infalliable, though I'm still a disciple. Forty minutes and two gelatos later we toured the Basilica and even overpriced Treasury (best Byzantine empire stuff outsdie Istanbul). Whiel HEather toured the Doge, Hannah and I drugged the pigeons. It's okay- it's not evil! We paid for feed that is made with birth control to control the pigeon population in San Marco.
Maintaining my honor Jew status for the week, we went to the Chiesa de Friari rather than the Academia. then returned to the status for the .70 cnet bathroom (with TURNSTILES!) before our 6.50 canal cruise (beats a 100 euro gondola!). But how does ANYONE afford public transit?!?!
By then it was dark and we went to dinner. We planned to follow it up with Venetian ngihtlife. Its incredible how desolate the streets get and hwo confusnig they are, once the tourists head back to their hotels for the night. The first fw palces we wanted were closed or invisble, but eventually we discovered a cichetti bar full of locals (Thanks Rick). We order his reccomendating, spritz al bitter, which is HORRENDOUS. Apparnetly, RIck doesn't have taste buds. To get the taste out of our males we celebrated the end of our spring break with three scoops of gelato (raspberry, lemon, pear) before packing and collapsing on my mattress for our morning flight back to Praha.
When we arrived in the MEstre we took a series of buses to get to our hotel (PS-Italian public transport makes NO sense. They don't list stops- but go by TURNS). Then we met up with Hannah's friend Heather.
Hannah and her two Venice Virgins then began to get our bearings. We watched the sun set on the Rialto and then made our way to san Marco. After an enjoyable evening we decided to go home and make a very late supper. Several wrong turns later, we sough directions from a waiter-who playfully pointed us in the direction of his apartment and then propositioned us for an orgy. My flirtatious skilsl sharpened, we turned him down as playfully and went the opposite way to ask again, preferably someone more reliable. We met several Americans who gave us a great map and pointed us towards ananas gelato (though not our hotel). However, I saved us by asking a friendly looking gentleman for directions, impressively, in great Italian, "Signore! Scusi, Piazzale di Roma?" thrilled at my accent apparently, he embraced us and pointed us in the correct direction.
Later that night, post our first healthy meal all wek we made friends with two guys studying in Heidelburg, who invited us out for a drink at a local bar. A mix of broken German, Spanish, Italian and Czech later we ordered. Nothing says class like chips, chessepuffs and the cheapest wine on the menu. We followed it up with the adolescent ritual of a Family Guy Marathon. Somehow, we never officially introduced ourselves until twenty four hours later.....
VENICE DAY TWO:
Next morning Hannah and I proved she has at least some culinary skill by making a scramble of eggs, feta and spinach. Venice remained enchanting (no cars! sun! water!) but crowded. I've never felt so attractive in my life as I did there. The local men aren't rude, they don't catcall like in the US, but they look intently-they STARE, repetitively as if to say "That's right, I'm looking at YOU, kid. Just YOU." It's almost a duel-will you break eye contact first? Are you brave enough to return the stare? Or even glance? Unsurprisingly, I always lost.
We made our way to Ferrovia to get Rick's suggested Rolling Venice card. But we proved him not to be infalliable, though I'm still a disciple. Forty minutes and two gelatos later we toured the Basilica and even overpriced Treasury (best Byzantine empire stuff outsdie Istanbul). Whiel HEather toured the Doge, Hannah and I drugged the pigeons. It's okay- it's not evil! We paid for feed that is made with birth control to control the pigeon population in San Marco.
Maintaining my honor Jew status for the week, we went to the Chiesa de Friari rather than the Academia. then returned to the status for the .70 cnet bathroom (with TURNSTILES!) before our 6.50 canal cruise (beats a 100 euro gondola!). But how does ANYONE afford public transit?!?!
By then it was dark and we went to dinner. We planned to follow it up with Venetian ngihtlife. Its incredible how desolate the streets get and hwo confusnig they are, once the tourists head back to their hotels for the night. The first fw palces we wanted were closed or invisble, but eventually we discovered a cichetti bar full of locals (Thanks Rick). We order his reccomendating, spritz al bitter, which is HORRENDOUS. Apparnetly, RIck doesn't have taste buds. To get the taste out of our males we celebrated the end of our spring break with three scoops of gelato (raspberry, lemon, pear) before packing and collapsing on my mattress for our morning flight back to Praha.