Venice
What do you think of when you hear the name Venice?
Romance? Beauty? Riding along in gondolas while the gondolier sings Italian
tunes? That’s what I thought of before visiting there in a rain storm. During
our tour, we had “free time” when you go out and explore on your own. Since, for
me “free time” was code for getting lost, I latched onto a kindly couple, with
memorable names Mark and Mindy, and they graciously allowed me to follow them
around. Sis wisely stayed in the hotel that day. The gondolas were grounded. We
paid 30 euros to tour a palace. We thought it worth it since it was warm and
dry inside. But getting out was a trick. It took us a while to find the exit
and it was almost time to catch the ferry. So when I think of Venice, I think
of running and sloshing through ankle-deep water, through rain and wind, holding
my umbrella in front of me so the wind wouldn’t catch it and causes it to
explode like it did with Mark’s. Mark ran ahead of us to tell the tour guide we
were on our way. Mindy ran behind me making sure I didn’t get lost. And we made
it to the ferry. Ironically, when we got off, I followed someone else to the
bus and Mark and Mindy got lost, but the tour guide retrieved them.
My dreams of Venice
Turned somewhat of a nightmare
But grand adventure
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