Day 1: Plane Ride and Venice

I am currently sitting in the bathroom of my room at the Riviera Hotel in Venice.  A beautiful buddhei  sits in front of me, a shower sits to the left, and a fine Italian toilet resides behind me.   The window of the bathroom is open, and I can hear a loud, drunk Italian crowd passing by.  I’m on cloud nine.  But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  I don’t have some strange fetish for using my laptop in hotel bathrooms.  My sister is asleep in the other room, and I feared my frenzied typing might wake her.   I just wanted to get this experience down in the books. 

These past two days have felt like one long haze.  I spent most of Thursday flying through different time zones, and when I landed in Venice it was morning.  As, a result, my internal clock is out of wack.  I mean, I honestly don’t feel like I’m in another country.  Everything just feels like some new part of Disneyland that I haven’t explored.  Now that I think about it, that’s pretty insulting to the country of Italy.  So scratch that.  This shit is 1,000 times better than Disneyland.

We landed in Venice around 11:30 and met with part of our tour group at the airport.  The first people we met were Pam and Mike, from Kentucky.  Attempting small talk, I asked them if Kentucky had any good fried chicken.  Mike didn’t seem to like the joke.

  At around noon we boarded a water taxi with other members of our travel group.  And the excitement began.  The captain of the taxi raced through the water and sped past other boats.  Occasionally we the boat would hit rifts in the water and tip one way or the other, but the captain didn’t seem to care.  In a matter of fifteen minutes we docked on the Island of Lido. I stepped off the boat feeling like an alien.  There was the comfort of seeing cars, and doors, and everything else that most humans on this planet have.  But there’s something completely different about this place, and I love it.  Minutes after stepping off the water taxi, I saw a dirty older man wearing a pink shirt that was completely unbuttoned.  He just didn’t give a fuck.  I was tempted to take a picture for the blog, but I didn’t want to risk getting into a fight.

The view from the taxi

As soon as we got settled, my mom and I decided to find some caffeine.  Within a matter of minutes we were in a café.  I drank a phenomenal espresso with sugar and my mom had a latte.  I was discouraged when I looked up to see Jersey Shore playing with Italian subtitles behind me.  I was even more discouraged when I looked down to see a slot machine in the corner of the café.  We finished our drinks, picked up my dad and sister at the hotel, and went on an afternoon hunt for gelato.  We hadn’t really had anything to eat that entire day, so my mom suggested replacing meals with gelato.  My whole life I was told to finish my meals before eating sweets, and here I was in a foreign country doing the exact opposite.  I love it.

                

              After gelato we took a stroll down the street to the beach.  According to our tour guide it was the Aegean sea.  No one brought any swim trunks, so we just waded with our feet in the water.  My dad, determined to go for a swim in a new body of water, insisted that we buy trunks at a local shop.  Fair enough.  We walked into a Fila store and looked around.  My dad found a a nice pair of red trunks, but I wasn’t satisfied.  I wanted to make an impression on this country.  And so I bought a brand new lavender speedo.  We had to make it back in time to meet for our tour orientation, so we made plans to swim after dinner.

                The whole group, mostly middle aged, gathered in the hotel lobby as our tour guide talked.  His name was Dave.  He told us how amazing of a life he lead, traveling all over the place and getting paid to lead people around Italy.  And then he had us go around the room and introduce ourselves.  I sipped my complementary champagne as I listened to the others speak.  “We’re here for a wedding anniversary.”  “We just decided to leave the boys at home and go to Italy.”  Most of it boiled down to, “We’re just here because we have a shit ton of money to blow and thought it would be cool to go to Italy”.  And then it came to me.  “Hi, my name is Lucas, I’m from California, and this is my first time traveling out of the country.  I look forward to being able to drink in front of my dad…legally”.  The crowd burst into laughter and some guy in a purple shirt made a comment that I couldn’t hear.  I chuckled and pretended that I did.

I’ve been joking about that a lot with people, the whole drinking thing.  When I tell people I’m going to Italy I usually follow it up with “I’m gonna drink sooo much wine,” or “I’m just gonna get shitfaced every night”.  And while this may be partially true, I know I want much more from this trip.  I want to eat delicious food.  I want to see beautiful art.  And maybe along the way I want to find some deeper life meaning.

          But maybe that’s too much to ask for.  Maybe I’m just looking for an escape from the monotony of life.  Whenever my I come to such conclusions, I hear my grandpa’s voice espousing his wisdom:  “You can go anywhere in the world, but there you are.”

Oh, Grandpa Brandt.  Always painfully reminding me that escaping to solve my problems is never the solution.

Well, it’s getting late now, and I don’t feel up to detailing the rest of my trip.

Things I can tell you:

1) I did swim in a speedo.

2) My ass was partially exposed.

3) I will post pictures as soon as I get a chance.

Unfortunately we have to pay for WiFi in Venice (like 6 euros for 30 minutes), so I don’t know if I’ll be able to post every day.  But I will try.  Stay with me if you wish!  I’m sure there’s a lot more cool shit in store.  And who knows, maybe I’ll find some hot shit too.

Good Afternoon America, and Good Night Venice!

CIAO.

Lucas