“Is this it?” A little dazed and confused we all four traded frantic looks.
“No,” Jay exhaled, standing now.
“Is this it?”
None of us knew exactly what we were looking for.
We collectively lost our confidence in our ability to recognize our destination in time.
“No,” Jay said less sure than he let on.
But, then it was.
And as we feared, we almost missed our harbor stop struggling and lugging, well, luggage,up the steps to the deck and then walking across the gang plank before the public boat pulled away.
Public Boat Alilaguna Line – 30 Euros for Two
Then the fishing began.
We fished through our notes, both printed and in my iPhone, for directions from the harbor to the Hotel Campiello.
We wandered around in crowds of tourists like us and in tour groups unlike us.
You know how it is when you rush around searching for something so urgently that every other sense shuts down?
We almost missed the unique smells of salty air and ignored the clean ocean breezes on our skin.
Even back home in California there’s something unique about the mix of diesel fuel and vacation smells you notice when crossing the bay between Balboa Island and Balboa Peninsula in Newport Beach.
Venice delivered its own brand, a type of pungent fragrance lingering lightly in the air.
Elle shot an apprehensive glance to Emma and whispered, “I don’t see any street names, do you?”
“No,” Emma replied looking uneasy now.
We approached an open air cafe.
I wandered down an alley next to it just at dusk with a few dark shadows beginning to linger.
Jay and I shared puzzled looks. Shouldn’t it be here?
Up and down the harbor we strolled looking for clues, our rolling suitcases trailing us like a shadow.
Something smelled fishy.
Emma looked doubtful. “Aren’t we staying just east of St. Mark’s Square?”
“I think so,” I said feeling confused and mildly annoyed.
“It’s supposed to be near the Bridge of Sighs, where is that?” Jay asked scratching his head.
“We’re supposed to see a half of dozen boutique hotels recommended by Rick Steves.” Elle said with a look that signaled her energy was draining.
“Any more clues?” I wondered.
“This is the Riva degli Schiavoni waterfront promenade, right?” Emma confirmed. Looking at her notes as she continued,
“Steves says to look for hotels, like ours, that rub drainpipes with five-star, palatial hotels where the wealthy stay in Venice.
Its 16 rooms lie just 50 yards off the waterfront in a tiny square.”
And it used to be a convent in the 1800s.”
Did Mark Twain Visit the Convent?
My mind drifted sideways from its purpose at the thought of the 19th century.
I wonder if Mark Twain strolled along this very water front?
I vaguely recalled he too traveled to Venice, Florence and Rome.
In the fall of 1878 Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) stayed in Venice with his family.
According to his three volume Autobiography, “They arrived on the evening of 25 September after an exhausting day’s travel from Bellagio, on Lake Como.They stayed at the Grand Hotel d’Italie, whose south side was on the Grand Canal.”
Now what about us?
We too felt exhausted and frustrated.
Our own hotel shouldn’t be this difficult to find.
“Shouldn’t we ask?” Emma and Elle offered.
“C’mon, you’re kidding, right?” the two totally lost, cave-dwelling, hunter-gathering guys sheepishly snapped.
Finally, we returned in defeat to where we started, to the open air cafe.
The ladies politely asked for directions hoping the server would understand English and be willing to aid pathetic tourists yet again.
He pointed to “my alley” which served to shore up my fragile instincts.
We retraced my steps thirty minutes earlier on uneven cobblestones when I concluded we were nowhere close to the hotel supposedly yards away from the water front.
Great instincts, horrible observation skills.
But, there it was down one of the kinds of “alleys” we were destined to appreciate in every other Italian destination we visited.
A lit sign above a doorway.
It took the fading sunlight at dusk to unmask its mysterious location.
It felt like a scene out of a roaring twenties flick.
A hidden door.
A secret knock.
A buzz and we were in.
Once inside we became charmed by the hotel keeper, who quietly demurred when I asked if she were the owner – “Not yet,” she said, “but someday.”
We instantly agreed with how Rick Steves described it as “lacy and bright” decor with the feeling of tranquility that fills you.
Two things were on our collective minds – dinner and bed.
We found our rooms and quickly returned to the lobby for a local restaurant recommendation, not too far away so we could find our way back by following Italian bread crumbs.
Wait Until 7, Never Leave
“Di Foffani Francesca,” she said.
We discovered something new to us.
Most Italian restaurants don’t serve until after 7pm.
And, while the good old truck stop rule of thumb applies in the US, it doesn’t here.
No crowd at seven means nothing about the quality of food.
Locals don’t seem to show up until 8 or 8:30 pm.
And that’s just the beginning of the trickle until the noise and fun begins later in the evening.
Oh, and Rick Steves was right when he said, in Italy you can order a meal and linger all evening.
No manager or restaurant owner expects to turn the table as many times as she can to boost her profits.
There was this small, intimate restaurant somewhere in LA or maybe Beverly Hills whose gimmick was to take your order, choose not to fill your water glass unless you insisted (during the multiyear drought and all) and then turn an hour glass over when your server returned with your order.
As the sands of time obeyed the physics of gravity and the last particle fell, she returned with your bill and shoed you out so someone else having waited an hour eagerly took your spot.
Patrons loved it.
Di Foffani Francesca, Castello 4687, Venezia : 82 Euros / 41 Couple
Coperto (Cover Charge) – 3 Euros each
Pizza Margherita Gourmet – 15 Euros
Calamarta Frutti Di Mare – 15 Euros
Lasagna Melanzane – 16 Euros
Cabernet – 21 Euros
Acqua Nat 1LT – 4 Euros
But, here in Venice at Di Foffani Francesca we couldn’t even get our server’s attention even when our patience wore out.
Nor for that matter after other meals in Venice, or later in Florence or Sienna or Cinque Terra or any of the Tuscany towns or at the end of our trip in Rome.
Even when we felt patient, relaxed and mellowed out (by American standards) we still couldn’t figure out the protocol for settling our bill.
But, here we were exhausted by the fourteen hour flight, jet lag, and we just wanted to pay.
But, enough about that now.
A Day Ahead
Was it Wednesday night or did I wait until Thursday morning?
We intended to stay a day ahead of our itinerary, so with a train trip coming up, our first in Italy, I went online using the hotel’s WIFI to book a train.
Which was an epic fail.
A no go with my iPhone, even after getting help from the new guy at the front desk who also lost his patience.
Let the Vacay Begin
At our prearranged time we huddled around a small table in the lobby to eat a version of what each of our other hotels offered free for breakfast.
Twelve months ago we debated where we would go, what we would see, which hotels we’d book, how much time we’d enjoy at each destination and how much we wanted to spend for the whole vacation.
Check it off your bucket list because, “they” told us we had to.
That was in our planning stage.
But here we were, day one in Venice.
We pulled out notes and began recalling bits and pieces between bites.
Elle and Emma fumbled through their separate, but well-worn pages of identical guide books to answer the question, “What did Rick Steves tell us we should know to fully appreciate and experience everything we could?”
He wrote that Venice is the best preserved, medieval-to-Renaissance, big city in Europe.
So, I wedged in a little history into the conversation, “As the Second Italian War broke out in 1499, Leonardo da Vinci fled Milan for Venice, where he was employed as a military architect and engineer, devising methods to defend the city from naval attack.”
“Really?” Jay shrugged.
I missed his body language and continued to lecture everyone.
Leonardo had left Florence when his patron, Lorenzo de’ Medici, sent him on a mission of peace to his rival, the Duke of Milan.
But over the ensuing years Leonardo became a “hired gun” to Italy’s feuding powers, such as the Borgias and the Doges of Venice shoring up defenses and creating maps of their regions.
I concluded my exposition with, “His keen mind was very much in demand.”
“Who knew,” Jay said while reaching for a banana.
More about Leonardo when we reach our next destination, Florence I promised.
Arriving in Venice by boat tipped us off to some other facts.
Just the FAQs Ma’am
Elle and Emma brought Jay and me up-to-date according to their guide books.
We’re surrounded by hundreds of islands.
And over 400 bridges and 2000 alleys
About 25 miles of canals drain Venice proper into the Grand Canal.
Those 45 small waterways are known as rivers to the locals, “Rio Novo”.
They reminded us that we chose to base our accommodations in San Marco, the heart of the city as a convenient way for our launching romantic adventures.
A Little History for Context
We wanted to experience the Piazza San Marco, the Rialto Bridge and maybe the Accademia Bridge.
Oh, and the Campanile – the dramatic bell tower in St. Mark’s Square.
About 1500 years ago in 518 A.D. Venice provided refuge from marauding barbarians protected by its lagoon.
During the middle ages Venice managed a profitable East-West trading route and prospered.
About three hundred years later, the bones of San Marco (St. Mark) were smuggled to Venice in 828 A.D.
If you were a fan of the Netflix’s series about Marco Polo like Jay and I were, aside from the airport’s name, we wanted to know what his connection to Venice was?
Jay said he remembered Netflix focused on the trade routes into Kublai Khan’s Asia, but didn’t remember anything about Venice.
“Me either,” I said
I found out later that Marco Polo joined his father and uncle for almost two and half decades before returning to Venice.
Their epic journey ended in 1295.
Marco Polo returned with his fortune converted into gemstones.
By then the Republic of Venice had been embroiled in several wars with the Republic of Genoa for dominance in the Mediterranean Sea, each having established their claims on foreign lands.
Feeling patriotic, Marco funded a galley and went to war.
He was captured in 1296 and spent several months imprisoned.
During his jail time he dictated his adventures to his cellmate, Rustichello da Pisa, which became “The Travels of Marco Polo.”
While some of the tales may have been embellished, exaggerated or supplemented by da Pisa’s own accounts, Christopher Columbus found enough inspiration in the Far East descriptions that he wrote annotations in his copy planning to visit China, India and Japan himself.
Time is of the Essence
Facts are facts and history is history, but we didn’t have much time allotted for Venice as it was.
So, we quickly grabbed our maps and tour books off the table and struck out for St Mark’s Square which was almost around the corner from Hotel Campiello.
Back to the wide stone promenade, the Riva degli Schiavoni, along the water’s edge.
Okay, one more fact.
In the ninth century the promenade was constructed from the silt dredged from the lagoon, with enough to cover the distance between the Old Arenal and St. Mark’s Square.
In the 21st century, we marched with purpose up and over bridges with ramps.
We dodged in and out of the flows and globs of bunched up tour groups taking selfies.
A Day and a Half’s Worth of Exploring St. Mark’s Square by Noon
Standing in front of the Basilica, eyeing the heavy door of wrought iron and glass, Emma and I popped in our ear buds to take Rick Steves tour from his app.
In our rush, Jay and Elle forgot their earphones back at the Campiello and tried to share one set with a left in Jay’s and a right in Elle’s ear.
We saw the line forming at the Basilica, but decided to follow Rick’s numbered itinerary full of descriptions of museums, cafes, and sights to take in within the square.
But, our tour didn’t sync with Elle’s and Jay’s.
And it became more difficult to follow the clues to where Rick was taking us.
So, Jay pointed to the opposite corner and we followed his lead.
We employed the Disneyland strategy.Board the train at Main Street station.Circle the park checking out where shortest lines prevailed. Disembark and head to that attraction.
We circled the square without a train, but with lines of people all around us.
We found some shops.
Or I should say Minnie and Daisy did.
We guys, Mickey and Donald, focused on where all four of us needed to be with enough time to tour the Grand Canal by boat, as if there was any other way.
And take a Gondola ride.
Oh, and tour the Basilica.
Which Emma and I did by ourselves, since Elle had met her stamina limit walking all four sides of the square and in alley way offshoots during our morning exploration.
Elle and Jay returned to a cafe near our hotel for rest.
Emma and I quickly moved through the line.
We couldn’t believe our luck as we caught a break when various groups thinned out.
Inside small clusters of tourists clogged the way, but we found room to maneuver weaving in and out of the throngs.
Rick Steves whispered highlights in our ears and sometimes Emma and I were synched to the “same page.”
He told us about how the basilica had been constructed less like the elongated St. Peter’s cathedral that we were yet to see at the end of our itinerary in Rome.
We glanced in amazement with each other listening intently.
Not having anything else as a comparison, we moved on with the flow of tourists, and barely noted that the sanctuary epitomized a Greek Cross.
I recall in Dan Brown’s “Inferno” he writes a lengthy passage describing a critical plot point about St. Marks.
Brown’s main character, Robert Langdon, waxes poetically or better yet scholarly about, “St. Mark’s was so eastern in style that guidebooks often suggested it as a viable alternative to visiting Turkish mosques, many of which were Byzantine cathedrals … one’s passion for Byzantine art could be satisfied with a visit to the secret suite of rooms just off the right transept in this church, in which was hidden the so-called Treasure of St. Mark—a glittering collection of 283 precious icons, jewels, and chalices acquired during the looting of Constantinople.”
Nearly completing the tour within the flow of other tourists, we paused momentarily to admire the splendor of the Pala d’Oro — the Basilica’s altar — a “fused tapestry of previous works” like Byzantine enamel in a Gothic frame.
And, according to Langdon aka Brown it is, “adorned with some thirteen hundred pearls, four hundred garnets, three hundred sapphires, as well as emeralds, amethysts, and rubies ….”
With its interior lined in solid gold tiles, it’s no wonder that St. Mark’s was known locally for centuries as the Church of Gold.
Emerging from the dark interior of St. Mark’s Basilica into the bright sunlight signaled it was time to return to the harbor and meet up with Jay and Elle for the second half of the days activities – returning to the lagoon and adventuring into the Grand Canal.
What Emma and I hadn’t realized as we passed the massive, sprawling complex of buildings on our left towards the harbor where tourists queued in wrap-around-the-block lines was the Doge’s Palace.
Where did we go wrong?
Someone once said that St. Mark’s Basilica and the Doge’s Palace were built by the doges for the doges.
Like dukes who controlled the territories in places we hadn’t yet visited on our itinerary, Doges ruled Venice — possibly numbering as many as 100 over the ten centuries which first began in 697 A.D.
While their dynasty came to an abrupt end in the late 1700s when Napoleon conquered Venice, historians (and clued in travelers) find their story of power and glory riveting.
We missed visiting the huge museum in the palace for one, and the opportunity to experience its chambers, living quarters, courtyards and prison network.
We missed making the connection to the Doge’s Palace while taking one of our first scenic photos, behind Emma in a tight canal bridged by an enclosed tunnel — the Bridge of Sighs.
Apparently those sighs weren’t passionate sighs from couples in love, but from misery, as the walkway connected the palace with the prison.
Prisoners died in their cells and others cried out in anguish and moans which echoed out into the canal.
Casanova and Campanile
One prisoner held for over 15 months, but who escaped with the help of his keeper was the great lover, Casanova.
We had been so intent on finding our way to St. Mark’s Square that we paid little attention to anything else.
And that included the towering redbrick bell tower, Campanile di San Marco, which served as a beacon so lost travelers navigating the maze of canals could instantly find their way back to St. Mark’s Square.
Demonstrating that one cat had exhausted eight lives previously, it became the only victim in 1902 when the entire 300-foot tall tower collapsed including with the golden Archangel Gabriel previously perched at the top.
Hours later the line to tour St. Mark’s Basilica itself had started and stopped differently.
This time tourists lined up on raised platforms.
Yes, I was right.
The others hadn’t believed me when first puddles began appearing in the square.
And eventually deeper water followed.
So the line needed to be elevated to keep their shoes and socks high and dry.
Dan Brown’s Robert Langdon character supposedly had visited St. Mark’s Square on a research trip.
In the novel he had made an off handed comment, “No worse than Venice in flood season.(The square) had been under a foot of water, and he had walked from the Hotel Danieli to the basilica on wooden planks propped between cinder blocks and inverted buckets.”
Diligently checking off the first 31 tasks on our timeline.
Now we’re down to the last nine!!
Two Days Ahead
32. Make Sure Your Lights Are on a Timer
33. Prepare Family Car Entertainment and Emergency Supplies (N/A)
34. Double Check Shuttle Reservation
35. Pack Appropriate Clothing After Checking Weather Forecast
36. Weigh Check-Ins to Prevent Baggage Charges
37. Pack Carry-On Just-In-Case Checked Baggage is Lost
38. With Contact Info, Pack Itinerary in Your Suitcase
One Day Ahead
39. Print, Charge Electronics, Water, and Turn to Vacation Settings
40. Check Flight Status
In twenty-four hours it would finally be here!!!
Oh, the joy of anticipation!
Oh, the …
“We’re sorry for the inconvenience and we’re actively trying to rebook you on the best available flight. We will notify you again once your rebooking is completed. For more immediate action, visit My Trips or use the Fly Delta app for self-rebooking.”
It’s 7:33 am!!!!
NOW WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO????
My Delta app turned out to be useless.
We couldn’t find out what happened.
Emma called the airlines.
We got rerouted via Paris-CDG airport instead on Air France.
Right off the bat we had to rearrange the Supper Shuttle Business Express pick up for an hour and half earlier since our new flight departed at 3:15 pm instead of 4:50 pm.
I figured out that I needed to download the Air France app from the Apple store in order to confirm our reservations, check in and boarding pass on my phone.
Jay and Elle didn’t and had to go to the ticket window and wait for a long time at LAX.
Jay motioned us over.
Turns out not only was there a size dimension for carry on bags, but a weight requirement too. (How did we skip: 36. Weigh Check-Ins to Prevent Baggage Charges?)
Our two black bags weighed too much, like theirs, so we checked them through to Venice, Italy.
French Pecking Birds
While waiting at the gate in France at Charles de Gaulle airport for a four hour layover not quite awake, not quite rested, but in a sleep deprived zone, Elle and I noticed birds sitting on top of a display sign behind us.
We sat inside a building with glass windows revealing planes parked loading and unloading passengers and baggage.
Another three birds pecked at something on the carpet a few feet away from us.
Or did I dream the scene?
I can’t say we were at the top our game.
Questions flooded my feeble mind.
“What else could go wrong?”
“The luggage gets lost?”
“They don’t honor our reserved seats?”
We booked all four of our seats next to each other on our flight to Amsterdam on the original KLM Delta Partner flight after a Delta flight attendant walked us through how to identify the plane and guided our seat reservations.
That was KLM.
This was Air France.
Not the same seats, but at least each couple sat together.
Finally on the flight I struck up a conversation with the flight attendant who inquired about the reason for choosing them.
“Our original flight was canceled due to technical problems we were told, but this is a vacation celebrating our birthdays and our wedding anniversary.”
She looked a Emma but said she wasn’t as lucky saying, “I’m a failure.”
Emma replied, “No you aren’t.”
Later she returned and asked us if we’d like to visit the cockpit after the meal service since this was such a special occasion?
Seemed a little odd to me, but we both agreed.
Still later she returned saying because we’re flying from the U.S. she couldn’t arrange it.
Of course, we figured, it’s got to be against every security protocol put in place since 9/11.
Then she asked,“Do you like champagne?”
So just before we started our landing descent, she returned again with a gift wrapped with a little ribbon around the neck and sealed inside a plastic bag.
We thanked her and thanked her and felt maybe the vacation we planned almost a year ago, actually did get off to a better start.
But, that feeling didn’t last.
In Italy, of course we needed to go through customs and security.
Still groggy I juggled a water bottle, the champaign, my carry-on while desperately searching for my passport.
All the while a little voice reminds me not to put my iPhone in my jeans back pocket, right,like I have always done.
Since 7am I’d conditioned myself with that internal dialog, “Wait, no you can’t do that. Stop. Put it in your money belt instead, stupid.”
And without my wallet I felt odd.
I fumbled for my money belt holding my passport and phone around my waist.
We placed our bags on the conveyor belt and crossed our fingers that we could pass through the security arch without sounding an alarm.
That was the least of our worries.
The security agent flagged my half empty water bottle and the champaign.
He kept asking for the champaign’s receipt.
We told him it was a gift.
He said too bad, but without a receipt we couldn’t keep our gift.
Emma retold our story.
He didn’t budge, like a referee who made his call and it was absolute and it was final.
No amount of instant replay would overturn his ruling.
Besides fellow Air France passengers were backed up because of the “bottleneck” we were causing.
During the confusion I grabbed my water bottle and forced it into my back pocket where my iPhone or wallet would normally be found under the jacket wrapped around my waste.
I’d much rather it had been the champaign.
But c’est la vie.
Exiting the Marco Polo International Airport confused us.
We could have taken a train, but chose instead to take the public boat, Alilaguna Blue Line, for the 1 hour and 10 min trip.
Of the hundreds of decisions facing us, that one had been made and checked off our list ten months earlier.
I think I was the one who spotted the logo for water taxies pointing the way out of the baggage claims area and to our left.
Following the trail sign-by-sign led us back inside then outside, along a conveyor belt and long walk overlooking a parking lot to our right (huh?), but eventually to water off in the distance.
A good sign.
Romantic Setting Sun
The sun began to set, so we felt this could be another good sign as we boated into Venice.
The water taxi windows were covered with dried sea water splashed on them as every fast boat sped by.
We followed a channel of brown wooden posts sticking out of the water vertically.
Paranoid about letting our luggage out of our sight we climbed below only to discover an almost full group of passengers with their bags taking up seats.
So we made do, figuring it couldn’t be any more uncomfortable than the knee banging leg room we endured from LAX to Paris and from Paris to Venice.
We didn’t know much about Venice
It was romantic, right?
Casanova and gondolas attracted us for our romantic anniversary.
When you go on holiday to Italy you have to check Venice off your bucket list, right?
Yes, the sun was setting, but we sat so low in the sea of luggage we couldn’t see much.
Even if they paid someone to hold on for dear life on the outer starboard rail and cleaned the glass.
Or installed windshield wipers.
Conversations or Better Seats?
So we struck up conversations, but I didn’t listen.
Half of my attention filled with anticipated dream snippets of what we’d see — the beauty of the canals, wondering if we’d see the home of the Venice Film Festival, being awed by the cathedral in San Marco ….
Using the other half, I tracked open benches as some people got off and others joined us at each stop.
I wasn’t ever sure whether we’d find or miss San Zaccaria the email instructions from theHotel Campiello said to find.
Besides the conversations usually followed the same sequence.
“Oh, how long have you been in Italy?”
“Where were you before this?”
“Where are you going?”
“Where are you from?”
Nearly everyone burst with tips and “be-sure-you-see this or that.”
One guy in his sixties had been coming to Venice almost every six months for years.
He’d rent out his other home in Great Britain and take this longer public water taxi trip each time.
Since he wasn’t a virgin Venice tourist like us, “Why?” we asked him.
He never had to be anywhere at any particular time, so he didn’t have to take the quicker bus or faster train to his destination.
Johnny Depp Meets Angelina Jolie
I don’t know why maybe talk of the train reminded me of the opening scenes in “The Tourist” when Johnny Depp meets Angelina Jolie zipping towards Venice.
They end up staying at the Hotel Danieli next to the Bridge of Sighs steps from St Mark’s Square.
The romantic thriller stimulates my sense of anticipation, until I’m drawn back in to the conversations.
A baby boomer couple from the states had been in Naples.
All four of us Emma, Jay, Elle and I exchanged knowing glances.
We hadn’t heard great reasons to visit Naples and had eliminated it from our itinerary during the first week of planning.
We were on the front end of our vacation adventures and they were heading back home now at the end of their trip.
Sitting immediately in front of me a millennial guy with backpack, a floppy hat and iPhone at the ready – the kind who I’m guessing stretches every Euro as far as he can, stays at youth hostels, and fills his Instagram with selfies – chatted up the older, long blonde-haired women to his right.
They got off two stops before us.
Were they mother and son?
Or just traveling companions who hooked up?
When they and the Naples couple disembarked and the other family with all the bags stepped off, we stood up.
Not out of respect, but more out of aiding their exit.
Awkwardly, we squeezed between our suitcases and backpacks, now pulled up from the boat floor on to our seats, and waited for them to pass before finding room to spread ourselves and our stuff out in the hull.
Roaming Brexit Connections
I picked an open bench next to another Millennial couple with British accents, both comparing maps on their iPhones.
“Excuse me, do you both have WIFI connections on the boat?”
No, they’ve got what sounded like a perk from being from countries in the European Union – celluar data plans that seamlessly transfer from country-to-country roaming across three plans for no extra charge or inconvenience.
Then they both looked out the glazed over window at the setting sun as they contemplated how Brexit might disrupt their key tool for wandering around the continent.
Just in case you haven’t heard Italian towns and European museums have scheduled events in 2019 celebrating Leonardo da Vinci’s art and amazing genius marking the 500th anniversary of his death.
Travel is the best way to gain worldly experience learning about other cultures, languages and cuisines.
And we all know how wonderful it is to travel to Italy anyway.
But this year is special. If you had a chance to ask Leonardo, he would have told you to never go too long without a sunset.
You are never too old, and it is never too late. But, you’d better book the flight.
Planning and Timing
Is there any bad time to visit Italy?
“Italy’s fall, which runs from September through November, is one of the shoulder seasons, though September can still be quite busy in some areas. Nevertheless, the weather cools off in these months, making it far more pleasant than the sweltering summer. However, beaches may be less alluring once the sea temps drop. By late October, a huge chunk of hotels — especially those around the coast or on islands — close for the winter season.“
What can go wrong?
“Over 70% of Venicein late October 2018 was underwater. People in the lagoon city were trying to deal with the water damage, while wading through over knee-high water. Spread across dozens of islands and known as “the floating city” for its ubiquitous canals and bridges, Venice has grappled with inundation for centuries. But due to natural subsidence and the higher tides caused by global warming.“
Packing and Unpacking
One bag or two?
“Where I live, it’s just cobblestone, and that’s very annoying with the rolling suitcase. A lighter bag can make your next trip less stressful and more joyful — sometimes in unexpected ways. Because they don’t check bags, they also don’t need to pay checked-bag fees when flying, which typically run about $25 per bag.”
Legends and Geniuses
“Mark Twain visited Italy four times in four decades: the initial foray took place in the summer of 1867, the last stay in 1903-04. In 1867 he visited Genoa, Italy. From there, Twain and two companions went to Milan and Lake Como and visited Bellagio, moving on toward Venice and continuing to Florence and Rome before rejoining the ship in Naples.“
Leonardo da Vinci’s 500th Anniversary
“In Florence: Events at the Museo Galileo include a spotlight on Leonardo’s library (June to late September 2019) and the quest for perpetual motion (mid-October 2019 to mid-January 2020). The Palazzo Vecchio explores Leonardo’s relationship with Florence (late March to late June 2019) and probes the mystery of his lost painting The Battle of Anghiari (late February 2019 to mid-January 2020).”
Two-Week Bucket List Itinerary
Trip of a Lifetime.
“If you are planning your first trip to Italy, this itinerary is a great place to start. With two weeks in Italy, you can visit the highlights…Rome, Florence, Venice, the Amalfi Coast, Tuscany, and the Cinque Terre. Visit ancient historical sites, cruise the canals in Venice, dine on Italian food, go wine tasting in Tuscany, relax on the beach, walk through the heart of Rome, and watch the sunset from the Cinque Terre. It’s the trip of a lifetime.”
Vacation Planning Timeline (Source LA Times, 2011)
One Year Ahead
1. Research Websites, Guidebooks and Travel Agents
2. Budget Room, Food, Sightseeing and Entertainment Per Day
3. Refer to Per Diem Allocations for Estimates
4.Open a Savings Account
5.Find Calendars of Events for Timing Better Deals
Six Months Ahead
6.Optional for Traveling Abroad— Passport
7.Shop for Appropriate Shoes and Break Them In
8. Schedule Medical Appointments for Shots
9.Get Information and Maps from Tourism Offices
10.Inspect Camera Gear and Use New Equipment Twice