The clouds were red as we made our decent into Venice. Out of the miniature window, I could see that the city was sewn together by threadlike fissures of sea. Little islands side by side dotted the coast.
On the ground in Amsterdam we had waited with some concern as wind and rain shook our little plane on the runway. Jerks and drops punctuated the take off. My stomach rolled with each sickening lurch. This carried on for no small length, and I had to admit that the novelty of the thrill did begin to wane slightly. Almost instantly I fell asleep. When I woke up I instinctively looked to my window. And there were the Alps; great purple and pink mountains. I blinked and stared stonily at them before falling back into a restless sleep.
Now it is dark in and outside of our travel bus. Borris, our driver and guide, greeted us at the international arrivals gate at the Venice airport, dressed smartly and seemingly less sluggish than my peers and myself. He efficiently heaved each and every one of our travel bags into the belly of the bus and before I had a chance to take a backwards glance at the airport we were off.
There are palm trees in Italy. For some reason, I found this surprised me. In my mind Italy was the home of tall fir trees spotted over long acres with grapes and old Tuscan Villas. That, and cities of ancient architecture fit together like a jigsaw and perhaps draped in equally ancient ivy and vine. So, the palm trees threw me.
It is 6:05pm in Venice and 11:05am in Minneapolis. We have been traveling for over sixteen hours and at the moment I have an exceptionally full bladder and another two hours of busing to look forward to.
I hope it does not begin to rain.
We descended onto the streets of Piran at eight o’clock on the evening of the 3rd. As our suitcases rolled menacingly down the narrow, cobbled streets I couldn’t help comparing our arrival in this isolated town to some sort of truly bizarre infiltration. In single file, we wound our way along the oceanfront to Piran’s Hostel In. Cars zipped pass us as full speed threatening to mow us down if we did not stay out of their way. We passed several restaurants featuring a variety of modestly priced seafood dishes. I mentally congratulated myself on picking this trip for my January abroad. If all else ended in disaster, it could be assured that fresh seafood would make it worthwhile. The hostel is quaint and clean and it suits me very well. I could fall in love with this place very easily, I think.
Song of the Day: Avril 14th by Aphex Twin
"Well after this I should think nothing of falling down stairs" Alice
