Up early and down for breakfast. Today was the first real distance that we had to travel overland. The plan was to get back to Milan Centrali before finding a train to take us east to Venice and the next part of our journey. A stroll through Como saw us at the train station. There are two train stations in Como, St Giovanni and Lago Nord. Likewise Milan has two train stations. Centrali, where we set off from, and Garibaldi. The trains from Giovanni go to Centrali and the trains from Lago Nord go to Garibaldi. You would assume it would be a simple process to get the right one. At St Giovanni we bought tickets for Centrali and promptly arrived one hour later at Garibaldi. How this happened I don't know. But it did.
Platform 20, Garibaldi train station, oops
A quick dash and one more train saw us at Centrali and searching once more for the ticket office. Centrali is huge. Not just big, huge. It serves most of the trains to destinations not only in Italy but all over Europe. In this massive station there are two ticket offices each with two desks. Each desk is operated by the worlds slowest ticket sales guy. It takes me, at the most, five minutes to buy a ticket. The rest of the world take the best part of an hour. God knows why but they take an eternity. After 10 mins in the queue Crispy,s patience broke and she shot to the front of the line. Much to the annoyance of the other people waiting. Five minutes later ticket in hand we were off to the platform and on the express Trentalia service to Venice.
I think the people in front of us at the ticket office in Milan will still be there. Bless ,em.
Just short of three hours later the train arrived at Venice Santa Lucia station. A great ride. To the. North the alps and to the south the Italian plains. Out of the station and onto the northern loop of the grand canal.
Now we are usually pretty good at timetables and bus routes etc. But the venice water bus service would tax the mental ability of a nuclear physicist. It makes no sense, rhyme or reason. Plus its manic beyond imagination. Hundreds of tourists with not the faintest idea of where they are going jumping on and off boats in the vain hope that they will end up somewhere at sometime with something interesting to see. The few locals that use the service are that pissed off with tourists, dozens at a time, haranguing them with questions that they always answer "yes" to every question . "Is this boat going north?" "Yes". "Is this boat going south?". "Yes". "Will this boat take me to Academia?". "Yes", even though its going the wrong way. I can't say I blame them. If I was a local I think I would rather swim than face that every day. The boat crew try there best to help but they get hounded even more in twenty five languages simultaneously. One poor young boatman shouted at least thirty times that the boat will not go to San Marco and at least thirty times some muppets shouted back " "does this boat go to San Marco". You could see the life drain from his eyes as he wondered why god had made this his lot. It was a nightmare and we have decided to use the trusted method of walking to get around in the short time we are here.
Made it to the hotel only to find it closed down and derelict. Good old Crispy spotted a photocopied sign stating to "ask at the Belle Air hotel across the road". Hearts sank thinking that our hotel had closed and we were going to be homeless in Venice. There would be no chance of finding a room vacancy at this time of year so I started searching for cardboard boxes and the like to sleep down a secluded back alley. The Belle Vue is very posh, secluded garden beautiful reception and all the trimmings. I thought there's no way we will be staying there. Crispy, unperturbed, marched into the Belle Air ready to kick off grand style but was completely deflated when the young lady behind the desk greeted us with "welcome to Venice, I'll show you to your room" we were led upstairs to a small but quaint room, en-suite And get this. Fabric covered walls. Crispy was ecstatic. We had gone from cardboard box to Doges palace in the blink of an eye.
It seems that the hotel I had booked into is part of the same group but is currently undergoing refurbishment. I can't say I'm disappointed.
Quick freshen up and out into Venice for dinner.
Bare and Crispy signing off Venice, Italy
PS. Ray. I apologise for any literary or grammatical errors as I'm writing this in a rush as time is short..
A quick dash and one more train saw us at Centrali and searching once more for the ticket office. Centrali is huge. Not just big, huge. It serves most of the trains to destinations not only in Italy but all over Europe. In this massive station there are two ticket offices each with two desks. Each desk is operated by the worlds slowest ticket sales guy. It takes me, at the most, five minutes to buy a ticket. The rest of the world take the best part of an hour. God knows why but they take an eternity. After 10 mins in the queue Crispy,s patience broke and she shot to the front of the line. Much to the annoyance of the other people waiting. Five minutes later ticket in hand we were off to the platform and on the express Trentalia service to Venice.
I think the people in front of us at the ticket office in Milan will still be there. Bless ,em.
Just short of three hours later the train arrived at Venice Santa Lucia station. A great ride. To the. North the alps and to the south the Italian plains. Out of the station and onto the northern loop of the grand canal.
Now we are usually pretty good at timetables and bus routes etc. But the venice water bus service would tax the mental ability of a nuclear physicist. It makes no sense, rhyme or reason. Plus its manic beyond imagination. Hundreds of tourists with not the faintest idea of where they are going jumping on and off boats in the vain hope that they will end up somewhere at sometime with something interesting to see. The few locals that use the service are that pissed off with tourists, dozens at a time, haranguing them with questions that they always answer "yes" to every question . "Is this boat going north?" "Yes". "Is this boat going south?". "Yes". "Will this boat take me to Academia?". "Yes", even though its going the wrong way. I can't say I blame them. If I was a local I think I would rather swim than face that every day. The boat crew try there best to help but they get hounded even more in twenty five languages simultaneously. One poor young boatman shouted at least thirty times that the boat will not go to San Marco and at least thirty times some muppets shouted back " "does this boat go to San Marco". You could see the life drain from his eyes as he wondered why god had made this his lot. It was a nightmare and we have decided to use the trusted method of walking to get around in the short time we are here.
Made it to the hotel only to find it closed down and derelict. Good old Crispy spotted a photocopied sign stating to "ask at the Belle Air hotel across the road". Hearts sank thinking that our hotel had closed and we were going to be homeless in Venice. There would be no chance of finding a room vacancy at this time of year so I started searching for cardboard boxes and the like to sleep down a secluded back alley. The Belle Vue is very posh, secluded garden beautiful reception and all the trimmings. I thought there's no way we will be staying there. Crispy, unperturbed, marched into the Belle Air ready to kick off grand style but was completely deflated when the young lady behind the desk greeted us with "welcome to Venice, I'll show you to your room" we were led upstairs to a small but quaint room, en-suite And get this. Fabric covered walls. Crispy was ecstatic. We had gone from cardboard box to Doges palace in the blink of an eye.
It seems that the hotel I had booked into is part of the same group but is currently undergoing refurbishment. I can't say I'm disappointed.
Quick freshen up and out into Venice for dinner.
Bare and Crispy signing off Venice, Italy
PS. Ray. I apologise for any literary or grammatical errors as I'm writing this in a rush as time is short..
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