Until this day, the Italian train system had been surprisingly efficient throughout our stay in Italy. Trains had left on time, arrived on time, and generally been hassle-free. This had actually reached a point where I had nearly forgotten their less than stellar reputation.

Then we arrived at Santa Maria Novella at a quarter past eight for an 8:37 AM train and ended up waiting over an hour for our train to arrive. No explanation was ever given, and my guess was that our train was late coming from Rome, on its way through Florence to Venice.

Our high speed Italian Rail train ended up leaving after 9:30, which put us on pace to reach Venice a little after noontime. And while I sat in my seat and tried to fall asleep, I thought about how we might rendevous once we reached our next destination.

For Venice, I had not been able to obtain the same hostel as Andrea and Jill, or even find a hostel period. Instead, I would be staying at a camping site located a mile and a half from their hostel, inside a two person house tent. I would be disembarking at Venice's main Santa Lucia station, while the girls would be getting off at the mainland Mestre station. Somehow, we'd have to gauge how long it would take to check in, get settled, then find transportation to the main island before meeting at some predetermined spot. After a quick discussion, we decided to text message each other to coordinate a meeting point and time, even if it would cost extra due to international roaming.

The train actually arrived relatively quickly, making it to Mestre at 11:30 (where Jill and Andrea disembarked) and arriving at Santa Lucia before noontime. For a few hours, I would be absolutely on my own. With luggage in hand, I walked out of the station and stepped out into Venice.

What an incredible sight! Unlike in Florence, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, with blue skies, fluffy white clouds, and the radiant sun shining down, creating a relatively warm day. And before me lay the Grand Canal, with all of Venice around it. Violets and reds and salmons and pinks shaded the villas, apartments, shops, museums, and other buildings scattered along the waterfront and into the little Venetian "neighborhoods." To my left, the Ponte dei Scalzi--first of the three bridges that crossed the Grand Canal--stood arched over the water. Everywhere, people enjoying the sun and the city walked. This was beyond my most glamorous imaginings. Take that, Venice, California!

There were matters to take care of first, however. I needed to check into my lodging, Camping Jolly, located in the Marghere district on mainland Venice.  To do so, I had to lug my suitcase over the steps of the Ponte dei Scalzi, alongside a waterfront street, over two more stepped bridges that crossed smaller canals, and up a final set of shallow steps to Piazza di Roma, the automobile hub of Venice, where the city buses returned to shuttle people to and from the mainland. After purchasing a ticket for a euro, I stepped onto bus #6 and was soon on my way to the camp site.

The instructions given from the camp's web site were a bit tricky to follow, since they didn't quite translate into relatable English, especially in cases of relative distances, where "in front of" wasn't incorrect--if you consider something half a block away to still be "in front of" you. Fortunately, I was able to find my stop, and I wheeled my luggage the remaining half mile to the camp site.

By this time, it was early afternoon, and it was quite warm. The temperature was easily in the 80s (Fahrenheit), and it appeared that the internet forecasts about Venice being rainy would be totally false. I checked into my tent without incident, but I discovered that when the site said "tent with two beds," they weren't kidding! Inside a six by six foot square, two cots lay on top of a concrete pad. With less than two feet separating them, the accommodations were quite crowded! It didn't help that upon walking in, I was greeted by the heated blast of air that felt like it came from a furnace. But it was cheap, and I would only be here for two nights, so with nothing else really possible to do, I stowed my luggage under the cot and took a breather, opening the tent up to try to get some ventilation and cool the interior down. Then I went to get some lunch.

It was nearly three in the afternoon when I met back up with Andrea and Jill in front of Santa Lucia. It had taken an hour longer than expected for me to find Camp Jolly, check in, eat lunch, and take a bus back to the island. And when I met up with my two travelmates, I discovered our group had added an additional member: Jacqueline, a solo-traveling teacher from Las Vegas and roommate at Andrea and Jill's hostel, had been invited to hang out with us. The more the merrier! First order of business: ride a valporetto (water bus) along the Grand Canal to St. Mark's Square.

In most cities, public transportation consists of buses and/or light rail. In Venice, where the streets are made of water, there are valporettos, or water buses. They're ferries, essentially, and they provide a relatively quick way to hop among Venice's more prominent tourist points. In Venice, where no cars are allowed onto most of the island due to the unnecessary weight they would add to the already sinking land, valporettos are the alternative to walking around--unless a 100 euro gondola ride interests people.

We opted for the slower valporetto to enjoy the sights. If we were playing six euro for it, might as well turn it into an attraction in its own right, no? And quite a ride it was! Cruising at an easy pace along Venice's most famous waterway, we could pick out the fantastic Venetian houses, each one more intricately wrought than any theme park or hotel resort could ever recreate. The richness, texture, patterns, and weight of the Venetian architecture was absolutely splendid, and I thought to myself, "Amsterdam may have been quite lovely, but these canals blow the Dutch canals out of the water." Pun partially intended.

It's fascinating how water is an intrinsic part of Venetian life. Venice first formed when citizens fled the mainland to escape invading marauders and quickly began developing the soggy existing islands in the bay. Over time, the Venetians quickly developed an impressive naval fleet that soon controlled the prime trade routes of the Adriatic Sea. That brought splendor and prosperity to the Venetians, who developed a rich culture replete with the famed glasswork and masquerade costumes now so synonymous with Venice. Over time, however, as the trade routes shifted out of the area, the Venetian might waned, and the city switched to a more tourist-centered economy, taking advantage of the visitors that flocked to Venice for its beauty and its unique canal-filled neighborhoods.

Today, Venice is a city built on water, slowly sinking into the water. Its citizens navigate around by plying the waters in motorboats, and many buildings open out directly into the water, stepping down to private docks. In the fall, a phenomenon of extremely high tide submerges part of the city, forcing people to walk around on elevated planks when traversing the lower elevations of Venice, tying together a cycle of life literally immersed within the confines of the lagoon.

What fascinated me was how people carried on their lives normally, as though it was any other town--only their primary mode of transportation is aquatic, and their streets are paved of liquid, not asphalt. Their sidewalks are merely narrow boardwalks. Their paths are constricted in a cozy way, carved in the negative form out of a dense network of buildings that hug the pedestrian scale, framing views, concealing nooks, encouraging exploration. Without the presence of cars (a welcome relief, we found), people dominate the urban space. This is life before carriages. In so many ways, it is life very much like it was during the height of the Venetian power, so many centuries ago!

We landed at St. Mark's Square as the afternoon was shifting to its later stages. To our right was the Palazzo Ducale, or Ducal Palace. Beyond that was St. Mark's Basilica. To our left, rising high above the city skyline, was St. Mark's Tower, the iconic bell tower of the city (one of many, however). Everywhere we looked... pigeons. Hundreds--no--thousands of them, fluttering around the grounds, gathering around tourists offering bird seed, flocking like a Hitchcock scene on steroids.

Our itinerary only had four targets in Venice: St. Mark's Square, the Ducal Palace, the Grand Canal, and the Rialto Bridge. Here, in one setting, we had three of them. And so, awestruck, we began ambling around, admiring the richness that was Venetian architecture.

The church itself offered free admission, but when they refused to let Jill in on account of her backpack (which was smaller than some of the purses other guests were being allowed entry with), Andrea decided to stay with Jill outside while Jacqueline and I did a quick round inside. To be honest, it was not that special compared to some of the other cathedrals I'd visisted in Europe, and although there was a very nice old and rustic feel, I didn't feel compelled to spend much time.  The fact that Jacqueline pointed out that this was were most pickpocketers targeted tourists didn't encourage an extended stay either, and within ten minutes, we were back outside.

We took a walk around the ornate arcade that surrounded the square before rejoining Andrea and Jill. Along the way, we noted the variety of jewelry stores present, displaying pendants and necklaces and earrings that none of us would probably ever be able to afford. There was also an extensive selection of fine restaurants and cafes that charged exorbitant prices for outdoor dining and retained a glamorous, white-tie ambiance I couldn't help but notice. In a really subtle way, there was a sort of "better than you" atmosphere that pervaded this once luxuriant and still grand city.

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For more photos of Venice, check out my Facebook photo albums:
VENICE