What I will remember about Venice

Venice: Regal and Serene

I certain there are times when Venice bustles during Carnivale, Peak of tourist season, the Regatta, the Film Festival...but not when we were there. When we were there, things were fairly quiet and uncrowded.
Except for the street gypsies hawking their wares and the bells chiming from the tall clock in the square, the music playing from various buildings and sidewalk cafes, were the only real noises I noticed. Rome was noisy, especially from traffic. There are no cars. None. All of the traffic in Venice is on the water and did not carry so much, into the heart of the city or the piazza where we spent most of our time.
I tried to record the sound of the bells to use as a ringtone on my phone but the voices of the gypsies interupted this attempt. Later, I tried to record the sound of opera music, an aria, I believe, but again, to no avail. These were serious salesman, determined that we should by their wares...some lighted whirly gig type objects they wanted way too much for.
Abandoning the idea of recording the sounds of bells or opera music, we decided to spend out last few hours in Venice gathering souvenirs for our families.
Our seach (for Souvenirs and a place to buy them):
On my birthday, just one month before we were to depart for Italy, we watched a travel video about Venice. One of the things that struck me was the narrator saying, "you will get lost in Venice. Plan on it."
What we didn't plan on is how difficult it would be to find our way back to places we had been. Case in point: during our walking tour with a guide, we spied a fabulous little toy store in an out of the way piazza and wrote down the address so we could return later in the day and look for things to take home for our grandbabies.
We got directions at our hotel, at the post office, from a street vendor, a waiter...but never  could find our way back to the toy store we'd seen.
While we were looking for the toy store,  a woman ran up to us and said, in a tone we all recognized, "Bambina." The truth is. she said other stuff we did not understand but  what matters is that we understood that somewhere nearby there was a little girl lost. She was frantic, as any mother of a lost child would be. We've all known that feeling and so we spread out and started helping her search. After what seemed like a long time, an older child, who we decided was the brother to the lost child began to shout from the backside of a restaurant. I advised that since the child had been located, we return to our own search lest we witness an Italian spanking. Later, the Mama passed us, the brother still tattle telling on the little sister, who was crying as she peddled along on a scooter, as fast as her chubby little legs would take her.

 Last dinner in Italy at a cafe

The Hard Rock Cafe

With the time we lost that evening, and with it growing dark, we ofted to stop at a vendor carts in the street to see what we could find. Just then, it started to rain. We thought to duck into an Italian cafe for a quick dinner but ended up instead at the Hard Rock Cafe, where we had, of all things, fajitas. We also got Hard Rock Venice tshirts for some of the big kids so we felt some sense of accomplishment souvenir-wise.

It was quite dark and raining by the time we finished dinner. As we made our way back to the hotel, we were accosted, once again, by the noisy street gypsies. I kept walking. The middle sister kept walking. The baby sister, did not keeping walking. I learned this when a voice from behind me began calling my name. "Come here. Come back," the voice said. It  was not the voice of my sister. It was not even a female voice. It was the deep, thick accented voice of one of the street gypsies.
Street Gypsy.
There is nothing quite like being summoned by name by a street gypsy in a foriegn country. "Hello" he called to me. "These are for you!"  I turned around to find him running toward me, waving a hand full of the whirly gigs at me. The baby sister was just behind him, laughing hysterically. She later tried to one up me by telling me how much more I paid for the things than she did.
I did not care and I told her so. "I did not pay him for his whatnots, I paid him to go away and stop yelling my name across Venice."
In Venice, the merchants were eager to make a sale, unlike their Roman counterparts. In Rome, it seems to us that for the most part, the shopkeepers  really weren't too about making a sale.
Not that they were pushy (all except for the gypsies, that is...)  Quite the opposite.The seemed laid back and happy. Content, I would call it...

The Contented Venetians

We were told that the citizens of Venice had long been content with their lives and those who governed their city. The uprisings and revolts common to other cities were not found in Venice because of a system of government in which men from among the people were selected to serve for very short periods of time. It was further explained that"everyone was a merchant in Venice" throughout her history preventing a disparate caste system prevalent in other places.
They have adapted to their way of life quite nicely. St. Mark's Basilica has its electricity for one hour a day. This is just an accepted fact in Venice. No one seems to mind. They work around it.

The Conservationist Venetians

There are few trees in Venice. Those that once grew there were used to make the foundations for the city. The one that are left are much love and highly protected. It is a serious offense to cut down or otherwise mess with a tree in Venice.  They also seriously recycle in Venice. This is probably due to their need to conserve what they have but also because their garbage has to be hauled away in trash boats which make their rounds only infrequently. Talk about your modern ideas in an ancient city...