I woke up to the smell of baking croissants. B&B Hotel was another hotel with the breakfast included in the base price, and since I could smell my favourite breakfast item, I did not have far to go. There was also a good selection of other things and a good espresso machine.
The room was a busy but cleared quickly. I stayed. I was relaxing; there was no morning walk for me since I was saving my energy for Venice. I made my third cappuccino. They were small after all.
I left the hotel at 11:00, quite early for my 12:16 train, especially considering it was only a five-minute walk, even when I stopped to take a couple photos.
The Trieste Centrale Station is small but has great historical significance. The original station was built in 1857. The train line connected Trieste to the great cities of the Hapsburg Empire, emphasizing the city’s importance as the key seaport. This led to a new station being opened in 1878. The station was renovated in 2007 but was obviously undergoing some improvements in 2024.
The café offered the only place to sit down. It also offered coffees and pastries. The display case was full of croissants. “No”, I told myself, “I don't need anything.” Then I thought, “Oh, maybe a cappuccino.” The lady had seen me checking out the pastries and asked me if I wasn't going to have something with the coffee. I couldn't resist. It was cream filled. If anyone is counting, that makes four coffees and three croissants so far this day. Man cannot live on coffee and croissants alone, but it makes for a great start to the day.
I went out to the platform and walked the length of the train, hoping to see that it said Venice on the front. It did not. It had no designation. The board told me the platform. This was that platform. This had to be my train. But I was still a bit nervous after my Lake Bled fiasco.
Several of my trains required seat reservations and others recommended them. This was a walk on train. There were no seat assignments. It was an old train and had only 2nd class seating. I took a place with two facing seats. The seat was comfortable, and I was on my own when we left the station.
I was joined by a woman at the first stop. I moved my pack to give her space, but she had to sit sideways as there was not enough room for us to both sit normally.
It was not a scenic ride. The train ran along the coast for the first part, but it was hazy, overcast, and the views of the sea were obstructed. We passed through farmland. The ride only became interesting when we were crossing the bridge into Venice.
Riding the train across the water was an appropriate way to enter a city that is made up of islands.
We arrived at Santa Lucia Station.
I assumed that the train station would have public washrooms. When I did not find one, I inquired at the information desk and was sent to a café. The washroom was upstairs and for customers only. Luckily, I was not desperate. Santa Lucia was quickly earning its place as one of my all-time least favourite train stations. It would solidify its standing when I left Venice.
I exited the station and was immediately immersed in the excitement of Venice. The Grand Canal is the big transportation corridor in the city. It was filled with boats, some with motors, others with gondoliers.
My hotel was a 22-minute walk away. Google Maps had suggested a route along the north side of the canal. I joined the throng of tourists.
Many of us had come off the train and were pulling our suitcases as we went to find our hotels. Some of the tourists had big suitcases. Couples had one for both of them. I only had to pull my little carry on.
With all the islands and canals, Venice is also a city of bridges. Although the walking is totally flat, the bridges require a walk up and down since they must allow for boats to pass underneath.
Here is a short video that shows the crossing into Venice and my first minutes in the city.
I had many plans for my stay in Venice, but I spent the first few hours of my visit searching for help with my computer issue. I had identified a PC repair company that was not far off the walk to my hotel. I wandered through the narrow streets and was disappointed to find it closed, but on closer inspection I saw that it was lunchtime and would reopen in five minutes. I waited.
The man opened right on time and was friendly and seemed quite knowledgeable. He understood my problem, but he could not help. He told me that he had quit supplying adapters for the Surface Pro. It was too much trouble. I understood what he meant. That is why I had to replace the original adapter. Considering its poor quality and huge replacement cost, I have been buying cheap clones ever since. He sent me to a nearby electronic store. They could not help me.
I walked on to my hotel. After showing my passport, I was quickly led around the corner to a different building.
We entered a dark hallway and walked up to the second floor. A key was required to enter the hallway, and my room was at the end. It was a reasonable size, but I think most of the furnishings have been there for many decades.
I did not stay long. I thought that I should pay close attention to the way out so that I could find my way back in. I even took a couple photographs.
I had to stop when I reached the door to the outside. I looked everywhere around the door but could not see a handle or lock. I stood there for a few minutes until the hotel clerk came in with a guest. He showed me a switch on the side wall. I wondered if I would have ever found it on my own.
My final note to myself on getting back to my room was to turn at Frulalà, a fruit bar on the corner. The place was full of beautiful looking fruit. I bought a container.
By this time I was rather doubtful that I would be successful in finding my adapter, but I still had a couple of places to try. The next one was on the other side of the Grand Canal. That meant walking across the Rialto Bridge. It is considered the oldest bridge location in Venice, although the bridge itself has been rebuilt many times over the centuries.
I walked around a small business mall but never found the computer repair shop. It was likely no longer in business. The next shop was open, but they could not help. That was it. I did not want to waste anymore of my time in Venice. It was time to be a traveller.
Venice is overwhelmed by tourists. I was going to visit the area of Piazza San Marco on my second day where I would encounter hordes of them. But people live in Venice. Not far away from the busy tourist areas are quiet streets and canals where Venetians go about their daily lives. Venice is divided into six sestieri, or administrative districts. The train station and my hotel were in the Cannaregio sestieri, so I had walked through the district to get to my hotel. That road was packed with tourists, but the rest of Cannaregio is a more residential area with restaurants and cafés frequented by locals. That was my destination for this evening.
My search for computer help had ended in the San Polo sestieri. Rather than backtrack I took a more direct route (as direct as possible in the winding roads of Venice) to the train station. Venice has 127 islands, so I was constantly crossing bridges over the many canals.
The roads were for people. The motorized transport was on the canals.
That included ambulances.
I arrived at the train station and crossed back into Cannaregio.
I decided to stop for supper, which since I had not yet veered off toward the less touristy area, was a mistake. The restaurant had a special menu of pasta with black sauce and fish. It seems to me that restaurants try to lure people in with the great special menus but make sure that the menu is difficult to see from the tables. They want you to order from the regular menu. I still ordered the special, which was very good, but my wine was eight Euros. That might be an acceptable price in Canada but was outrageous for Italy.
I sat next to a few “Ladies Who Travel”. They were part of a tour group. Two women sat on one side and then three more sat on the other side of me. I was surrounded. They were nice ladies, but it was not a great Venetian cultural experience.
Back on my walk, I turned away from the main street and strolled along narrow streets and canals with a brief break for a gelato.
A recommended stop was the Calle Varisco, which at 53 cm is known as the narrowest street in Venice. It was not easy to find as I wandered the not quite as narrow nearby streets. After I walked down the narrow alley to a canal and had to turn around, I wondered why I had bothered.
I was almost back at my hotel. I took more photos.
I began recording my walk shortly after I left the hotel. The green arrow button was the start, and the red button was the finish. This route was eight kilometres. It was not a great fitness activity as I slowly strolled along the canals, but it was an amazing experience. I had never seen anyplace quite like Venice.
I made my way back into my room in the hotel annex, which required three different keys. It helped that I remembered to turn at the Frulalà.
I was worried that I might end up in long lines when I visited Piazza San Marco the next day. I studied my options for advance tickets, decided on the Doge's Palace, and bought an admission for 2:30 pm.
I took a shower in what might have been the world's smallest shower, certainly the smallest that I had ever used. But the water was hot, and the towels were clean.
Well after midnight I heard a vacuum in the room above. I assumed it was a business or a resident doing their late-night cleaning. I had not been pleased to be placed in a separate building. The noise did not help.
This featured blog entry was written by Bob Brink from the blog Searching for Magical Moments.
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