I woke early because it is delivery day at the nearby store and they deliver all the groceries outside my window and then cart them in on dollies. Not a quiet process.
Against my better judgement, I decided to go to Piazza San Marco again. It was about 11:00 a.m. and prime time for the day trippers from dozens of humongous cruise ships to descend upon the square. Getting there was not for the faint of heart, but, the square - since it is HUGE - seemed not so crowded.
I spent a glorious morning taking photos of the piazza, the Bridge of Sighs, the Grand Canal , the endless gondolas and the famous Santa Maria della Salute across the canal. I don't think I could ever tire of this site. The gondolas stationed at the foot of San Marco are black, and are decorated in bright royal blues and scarlet reds and against the backdrop of the aqua waters of the Grand Canal are really breathtaking. What an amazing photographic experience this day was turning out to be.
On my way back I decided to cross over the Grand Canal via the La Accademia Bridge. My plan was to see what the other side of the canal looked like and then cross back. Well, they say that everyone gets lost in Venice and I guess it was my turn. While not exactly lost, I followed the signs to the Rialto Bridge, I had absolutely no idea where I was. I walked and walked for miles following the signs for Rialto. I saw lovely canals and lots of wonderful campos. And still I walked.
Finally I reached the Rialto Bridge and somehow, I ended up in San Polo.. so I guess I didn't cross La Accademia Bridge! I literally felt like I was in the bowels on San Polo. There was nothing but graffiti covered narrow alleys punctuated by open Campos or Campiellos. These alleys literally made up a warren of shops, one after the other with the occasional bar, and trattoria thrown in for good measure.
I started to follow the signs to Piazzele Roma hoping to get back to Cannaregio and on the way went through sestiere Santa Croce, which seemed in my weary state to be more of the same... and still I trudged onward. Finally I came to a bridge that indicated that Ferrovia was just on the other side. However, when I got to the other side I saw CARS.
Even as a fledgling Venetian I knew that cars and even bicycles (or biciclettas in Italian) are verboten in Venice. After circling the bus station several times I eventually gave up and cursed my ancestor Prince Henry the Navigator for my inferior navigational skills. I decided to grab some water from the snack bar a tree covered knoll. The lovely Italian lady operating the bar understood my meager italian and 1.30 euro and I had my piccolo agua naturale in hand. In response to my "Dove e Cannaregio?" she pointed to another bridge about 100 yards away and sent me off with a smile.
Cresting the bridge I saw things that looked familiar: the train station, the Hellovenizia center where I had purchased my vaporetto pass, and yes even the dreaded Lista di Spagna.
Four hours after the start of my journey, I was home in Cannaregio, where suddenly these tourists didn't seem as bad. I walked among "my people" until I reached my little apartment, where I rested my very weary bones ... and my tired feet!
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