Day Seventeen
Rob´s nausea is gone but the stomach acid made his throat so sore that he still can't really eat. D'oh. But what a trooper! "Let's move on", he says.
The scenery on th train ride out of Switzerland was amazing. Picture the most amzing thing ever and multiply it by one thousand. No, wait...that's too much. It was nice though. Postcard nice.
But man was it hot when we got to Venice. Gelato sales must have skyrocketed. My shirt stuck to me and I was sweating like Michael Moore in a spinning class on Venus. Rob was really tired from the trip and not eating, so he sat down in a piazza with our bags while I looked for a hostel.
And thus began a long, sweaty, scenic, frustrating evening. There are way too many details to mention, but just know that I made a series of bad decisions which got me lost for several hours in the beautiful Venice or, as I now call it, The Labyrinth of Death.
I found him again well after dark and without having found us a place to stay. It was the weekend, so everything was full. We went to the train station to go to Mestre or Padova where we might find a hostel, hotel, or quiet corner of a public park. I don't know how Rob felt, but I was nauseated with fatigue.
While waiting for the train we had an inconsequential converation with some daddy's girls from the midwest.
We skipped Mestre and went straight to Padova, where a cabbie who spoke no english and a little Spanish drove us around to about ten hotels to help us find a place. We finally found one that was about twice what we have been paying at hostels, but it was much nicer. It was a nice break from sharing a room with drunkards. We went to bed at like 1:30 am. Not that late, but it felt late considering we had been looking for a place to stay since about 7:00 at night.
The scenery on th train ride out of Switzerland was amazing. Picture the most amzing thing ever and multiply it by one thousand. No, wait...that's too much. It was nice though. Postcard nice.
But man was it hot when we got to Venice. Gelato sales must have skyrocketed. My shirt stuck to me and I was sweating like Michael Moore in a spinning class on Venus. Rob was really tired from the trip and not eating, so he sat down in a piazza with our bags while I looked for a hostel.
And thus began a long, sweaty, scenic, frustrating evening. There are way too many details to mention, but just know that I made a series of bad decisions which got me lost for several hours in the beautiful Venice or, as I now call it, The Labyrinth of Death.
I found him again well after dark and without having found us a place to stay. It was the weekend, so everything was full. We went to the train station to go to Mestre or Padova where we might find a hostel, hotel, or quiet corner of a public park. I don't know how Rob felt, but I was nauseated with fatigue.
While waiting for the train we had an inconsequential converation with some daddy's girls from the midwest.
We skipped Mestre and went straight to Padova, where a cabbie who spoke no english and a little Spanish drove us around to about ten hotels to help us find a place. We finally found one that was about twice what we have been paying at hostels, but it was much nicer. It was a nice break from sharing a room with drunkards. We went to bed at like 1:30 am. Not that late, but it felt late considering we had been looking for a place to stay since about 7:00 at night.
posted by T.R. at 3:38 AM
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