32. Venice, 1970

Venice

The next morning we had a good breakfast of fresh fruit and yogurt mixed with muesli.  The muesli was good mixed in with the yoghourt in those days because there was no raisins in the muesli.  I have an intense dislike for raisins.  Try to find some muesli without raisins today!  While we had breakfast we were joined by a girl named Candy Edwards from Western Australia who also wanted to go to Venice.

We left late that morning and headed for  the east coast of Italy towards Venice, we thought.  We drove all day over the mountains and ended on the east coast but we were about 300 kilometers south of Venice, somewhere between Ancona and Mondolfo.  Not exactly where we planned but it was the right coast and it didn't really matter when we got to Venice.  We found a small market and got some cheese , cold cuts and rolls for our supper and a little fresh fruit for breakfast and camped out near a beach along the Adriatic for the night.


The next day it was a beautiful drive up the coast to Venice and we arrived early afternoon.  I can not remember the proper name of where we ended up in Venice but can tell you we drove into the city nearly as far as we could without parking in a parking garage.  I remember we took a hard right hairpin turn after going across a bridge and ended up in a small neighborhood piazza that contained what we thought was a large warehouse building and several small apartment buildings.  The piazza was also bordered on one end of the Grand Canal.  Well, we parked near the warehouse away from the apartments and actually made arrangements to go to the laundromat.   This consisted of checking with the people living on the edge of the piazza for directions to the laundromat that we knew from "Europe on Five Dollars a Day" or a closer one that they knew of.  Once that was settled, we went back to the van and collected our clothing for the laundry.  My contribution was my two tee shirts and the bell bottom pants I was wearing!  Another person and I took our clothes off and added them to the laundry bags, otherwise we would not have any clean clothes to wear.  We were restricted to the inside of the van until our friends returned with our clothes, all nice and clean.

My situation had changed over the time that I had originally started hitchhiking through Europe.  When I first started my trek, my knapsack was full of clothes and toiletries. My sleeping bag and poncho was tied over the top of the knapsack.  Now, over the period of my travels I was reduced to essentials.  I carried in my knapsack, a sleeveless tee shirt, a loufa sealed in a plastic baggy, my sleeping bag and some food items like bread and fruit and a small composition notebook.  I wore a pair of burnt orange corduroy pants that Linda Booth had converted into bell bottoms, my second sleeveless tee shirt, a pair of sturdy sandals and  the woolen poncho that Linda had also made as a gift.  I was traveling with the knapsack over my back and Linda's auto harp over my shoulder.  I never did learn to play it!

Courtyard

While out doing laundry, the other people also stopped at a market and bought some vegetables and some meat for a soup for our supper.  After they returned, we dressed in our clean clothes and made our soup.  a couple of the locals came over and asked about the laundry and did we have any problems finding it? They then invited us to come over to their back yard for a taste of their wine.  We did that and had a quiet evening talking with the people from the neighborhood. 

The next morning we were greeted with a surprise.  While we were eating our breakfast,  a few of the workers from the warehouse came over with one of the young neighbors to translate.  We found out that what we thought was a warehouse was the local municipal public waterworks that supplied the city.  They saw that we washed clothes the day before and offered us the use of their hot showers inside the building followed by a tour of the waterworks.

Old man in Piazza

After a good breakfast, shower, and tour, we went our separate ways, some to visit museums, some to cross over to one of the islands where all the glass blower guilds were.  As usual, I walked the streets and watched the people.

I can remember, as a young child in Mechanicville New York I had a weekly egg and chicken route for my grandfather on Round Lake Avenue.  At the same time, some local gardeners would drive around in a pick up truck and stop along the streets to sell their vegetables and fruit.  And there was the ice truck, that I chased for a chip of ice hat the man gave to all us children, and the coal trucks making their deliveries.  Venice had all that only they were from Gondolas!  Vegetables galore with people yelling their wares while poling up and down the canal, large bottles of water, ice,  and coal that was shoveled into large bags and thrown over the shoulders of a young man covered in coal dust who carried the bags into the houses for the patrons.  In Saint Mark's Square there was what looked like the original pigeon lady, from Mary Poppins movie, selling food for the pigeons to the young children that played tag with them, burning up energy, before they went home or back to hotel rooms.

Children Playing in St. Mark's Square

Note:  In 2009 the feeding of pigeons was outlawed and you would be fined 50 euros for the offense.
 
That night, I remember, the local neighborhood was having a cookout that we were invited to.  We did not expect this but were prepared to contribute with some music!  We still had Gilbert Murphy with us and who in 1970 could not sing along to some Elvis Presley songs.  Another nice ending to a good day.  Almost!  The really nice ending came a little later when Candy and I moved across the piazza next to the canal to sleep under the stars.  We were almost asleep when two or three gondola's loaded with tourists came down the canal past us.  The Gondoliers were serenading the tourists in their gondolas, with classic love songs and their button accordions, all in sync with each other.  They spotted us on the edge of the canal and made sure that they drifted by so all the tourists could see us.  On the returned trip, they once again passed on our side of the canal, and this time the tourists waved to us as we all were sharing a quiet moment in time that could not be recaptured.

The Grand Canal at Might