We head into Venice and it is mobbed. The mob is very friendly however and it's not so crowded you can't move about. The sun is shining and Venice looks like a sparkling jewel. The steps of the train station are crowded with picnickers and people getting their faces painted. We hadn't expected so many kids dressed in halloween costumes and so few drunk people. A group of families go by where all the kids are dressed as chicks, moms as hens, and the (very few) dads are roosters.
San Marco square is even more crowded with lines of vendors and spiraling swarms of people. It's an odd dance as people in fantastic costumes slowly walk about the square as if they are headed somewhere and the rest of us pretend we're going someplace too and race around frantically trying to snap their picture. Occasionally, a pair will stop and then a semi-circle of photographers quickly forms and reforms as people dash in to take their picture. Then abruptly, they resume their promenade.
After awhile, I announce that we've now got enough pictures to bore people to death and I'm not taking any more. Except, well, one of her and that's it. And, that couple there. And this great big mob of orange-haired clowns, but no more!!
Sigh. It's hopeless. The only way to stop taking pictures is to throw our camera into a canal! Kerplunk! Aaah, now I can relax.
Nighttime is a little better as we try to concentrate on shopping and eating. Our Italian is so weak though! We're both missing being able to fumble through in French. Of course, in Venice they are used to speaking to tourists, but it feels like cheating to go directly to English. It's especially unnerving to accidentally speak French when we meant to speak Italian and have them answer in French. The shopkeepers and vendors are in high spirits. Perhaps it's because it's Carnival, or perhaps because they are making huge wads of money! I think the hardest part for them is keeping the shelves stocked. There's a crowd of people waiting to pay $195/hr for a gondola ride and the canals are so full of boats there are traffic jams.
San Marco square is covered in lighting effects and the narrow streets and alleys have lights strung along them. Ooof! Perhaps shopping on the first day wasn't such a great idea... we're lugging bags of stuff around and tomorrow we'll have no hotel room to keep them in. It feels totally safe, but we're getting tired. We head to the train station and it's still super busy unloading fresh revelers and taking away the exhausted ones.
The next day, we take it easy relaxing by the Grand Canel, eating pasta and drinking wine while we watch people go by. Sitting in the shade of our canopy just a few feet from the bustle of Carnival and the boat traffic as we dally over which flavor of gelato to get, we feel like we've joined the elite. My dahhling, why not get double scoops?
Finally as we board our flight back to Lyon, we hear the familiar phrase "Bonjour!" greet us. Monica nearly hugs the hostess! We're both surprised by how happy we are to hear something familiar - even if we can't always understand what they're saying. I think each time we return to Lyon it feels more like home.
For more Carnival pictures: http://new.photos.yahoo.com/album?c=travelingnuts&aid=576460762390321006&pid=&wtok=5vodHryJv.2VldkKxwZtxQ--&ts=1171883713&.src=ph
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