Dealing with a sick baby at anytime is challenging, but dealing with a sick baby when you’re in a foreign country is even more so.
He started running a slight fever so we gave him Infant’s Tylenol every 4 hours and kept an eye on his temperature. He got the worst diarrhea, which lasted a couple of days and gave him the worst diaper rash ever. He was lethargic and slept on and off for most of the day but we didn’t start to worry too much until his temperature rose to 100.4 at 10:30 at night. Of course at that hour nothing is open and there is no way to get him to a doctor. I’m not even sure where the nearest hospital is, but we had taken back our rental car so that wasn’t even an option. The only thing to do (besides worry!) was to try to keep his fever down with cooling cloths and Tylenol and try to keep him from getting dehydrated. It wasn’t a fun night but by the morning his fever had broke and some of his old pep had returned.
So, tips on what to pack for baby in case of an illness: Infant’s Tylenol, a thermometer and zinc (for those nasty diaper rashes). I’d welcome comments from other mom’s (and dad’s) who have had a similar experience!]]>
We’ve returned to Costa Rica, where the notion of our one year-around the world-flashpacking trip really started to take root. Two and a half years ago we were here on our honeymoon. Now, our babymoon.
Traveling with a 6 month old is not easy. It’s definitely a different kind of trip than traveling without baby, but it also comes with some new and different rewards.
I was pretty nervous about our two flights to get here. Four and a half hours to Houston, then another three and a half to Liberia. I didn’t want to be “those people on the plane with the crying baby”. I was worried about the pressure on Dante’s ears, his ability to sleep, our comfort in holding him for all of those hours….but I spent a few weeks worrying for nothing.
At the airport, even baby Dante got the pat down through security and once on the plane, he fell asleep before we even took off. My plan was to feed him on the ascent, hoping the sucking would alleviate any change in pressure for his ears, but with him fast asleep, I wasn’t sure what to do. I tried putting a pacifier in his mouth but no luck, he wouldn’t suck on it. I tried feeding him while he slept but he wouldn’t wake up enough to eat. He slept through the entire ascent and was fine. Whew, one down.
When he woke up he was happy to play in our arms and for the descent, he sipped at water whenever he seemed uncomfortable. That did the trick.
On our second flight, his ears were fine but he fussed a little so we walked him up and down the aisles. As everyone was disembarking the plane, he was smiling away and we got so many compliments on what a good baby he was.
Tips for a flight with a baby? Have a book to read to them, a toy to chew on (Sophie is a lifesaver and she’s easy to clean!), some patients and a good-natured disposition. (A change of clothes goes without saying.)
At the airport in Liberia, we got shown to the front of the immigration line – one of the perks of traveling with a baby. In Costa Rica if you have a baby, you go to the front of the line for everything. I wish it were this way at home!
Curtis collected our luggage while I stood under the huge fan with Dante in the open air airport. I was chatting with some other travelers when a giant grasshopper like insect flew in and hopped around, almost landing on Dante. I’m not sure if it was my scream that frightened him off or not, but he flew away to scare someone else.
I asked an airport employee what it was called but he didn’t know the English word for it and the Spanish one sounded like “ghost”, which must translate differently.
We spent our first night at the Hilton Garden Inn, an awesome hotel with super friendly and helpful staff. They have a free shuttle to and from the airport, a huge pool and great breakfasts. Dante didn’t sleep very well on our first night in a strange place, waking often for comfort. He still managed to charm everyone at breakfast the next day with his huge smiles, despite the lack of sleep.
Curtis went to pick up our rental car (Alamo, again with a free shuttle) while I bathed Dante and got us ready to go. Somehow he managed to fit everything into our small car (stroller, two big suitcases, diaper bag, carry on bag, pack and play, guitar) – we definitely ain’t traveling light on this trip – and headed for Samara.
Dante slept for the two hour ride, waking up refreshed at our destination – Entre Dos Aquas. We stayed here for 3 nights on our honeymoon so it was neat to return with baby. Dante loved the pool, hanging out in the shade in the hammocks – even taking a nap in one! But what he didn’t love was the heat. Our room only had a fan, no air-con, so close to midnight out of desperation, Curtis took him to the car and cranked the air-con. He finally fell asleep but it was a rough night with many feedings and fussing. Day two he seemed to acclimatize and we were back to a more normal sleep schedule.
We spent the next couple of days in the pool, at the beach or in a beach side bar sipping cold drinks. Then we got in our rental car for the short and bumpy ride to Playa Guiones, where we’ll reside for the next month.]]>
Turns out we were meeting our friends in the Costa Del Sol, a whole day’s worth of bus travel from Madrid but that didn’t matter because we fell in love with Madrid the moment we emerged from the depths of the subway. The city was lit up with more than just lights, it felt alive in a very New York kind of way.
We managed to find our hostel without getting lost, left our gear behind and immediately went in search of sangria and tapas. As we walked the streets, we noticed two things. One: This city was filled with seriously good looking people and Two: This city was filled with prostitutes. Or more accurately, one or two streets in this city were lined with hookers. I had never seen so many all at once before (this was before we made it to Amsterdam of course!) We were only in Madrid for two nights but I’ll never forget the bumblebee hooker – dressed in skin tight yellow and black leather from head to toe – two nights in a row. I would include a picture but quite frankly I was too scared to take one. I wish I had packed a spy cam because it would have come in handy on several occasions….
Anyways, wandering the streets of the city late at night looking for a tapas place was easy, choosing one was difficult! When we finally picked one and settled in to order, we were overwhelmed by the selection of tasty looking treats. Armed with our pitcher of sangria (dee-lish!), we chose the platter of tapas that would allow us to try a bunch. It was mostly bread topped with things like assorted cheeses and meats and that first pitcher of sangria turned into two so you know how that goes….
The next morning after our hostel included free breakfast (cold cereal, hot coffee and some weird pre-packaged loaf of something I was not about to put into my mouth), we ventured out into the daylight to enjoy our one full day exploring Madrid. I had picked up a pamphlet advertising a free walking tour and since we were pressed for time, thought we’d give it a shot. We met our guide and the rest of the group near a statue in the Puerta del Sol and the 3 1/2 hour tour was great fun (not to mention very educational!) Half way through the tour we even stopped for tapas which were only 1 euro each on Wednesdays and came with a free drink (wine, beer or sangria)!
The tour was “free”, but you were expected to tip your guide at the end, which everyone did of course. Sandemans offers these walking tours in several European cities. You can check them out here. I recommended them to friends who tried the tour in Edinburgh and were just as happy with theirs as we were with ours.
Some of the highlights of our Madrid walking tour included the Royal Palace, the worlds oldest restaurant, the origin of tapas, Cervantes and Don Quixote and some beautiful churches and cathedrals. The tour ended near the Museo del Prado so we ended our day with some wonderful and, at times, strange art (painting of a crow with a donut, dive bombing a monk?!)
Check out the crazy bathroom in our hostel. Behind the first glass door is the toilet and right beside it is the shower. Yes, the top is open to the rest of the room. Talk about a lack of privacy!
Our two nights in Madrid flew by and we were soon on a bus heading for Granada. We passed by beautiful rolling hills of olive trees, changed buses in Granada and exited at our final destination: Nerja, where we met up with some friends from back home for 2 1/2 weeks of Spanish indulgence. Stay tuned!]]>
What made our homecoming even more unique is that we came back pregnant. Yep, that’s right, the Flashpackers are going to become Flashparents. Flashbaby is due in August and was conceived in Spain (much to the disappointment of our friend and landlady in Portugal who has ordered us back when it’s time for baby number two).
Between the demands of my job and the tiring effects of my ever expanding belly, I have completely neglected telling the story of the last months of our wonderful journey – which I will do – just not as quickly as I should. The last few months were some of the best. We received visitors from home in Spain who we had a blast with, spent Christmas and New Years in Portugal, a week in Barcelona, Valentine’s Day in Paris, a week in Nice, time in Brugge, Amsterdam and Berlin – all amazing cities.
If anyone has a good suggestion (excluding my sister Shelley who’s enamored with “Bean”) for naming the baby, please comment!
Next post: Madrid!]]>
The Leaning Tower of Pisa was intended to stand vertically but it began leaning shortly after construction in 1173. The height of the tower is 55.86 m (183.27 ft) from the ground on the lowest side and 56.70 m (186.02 ft) on the highest side and well, it just looks neat!
Due to the long line up, we opted not to climb the 296 stairs to the top but chose instead to wander around, marveling at it’s beauty from below.
Then it was time to hop back into Lucy and continue our drive to the Chianti region in Tuscany where we had a villa booked for the week.
We were greeted by the sounds of a thumping bass when we arrived at Il Paggino in the late afternoon. Turns out the owners were having a big party to celebrate the end of a successful season (our week was the last one until they shut down for the winter) and they were testing the sound system. They invited us to join the party – which we did after our pasta dinner and two bottles of wine…
Eleanora and Francesco were such friendly and fun hosts and we had a blast joining them and their friends for our first Tuscan style party. Which consisted of vast quantities of delicious food, Chianti, a massive bowl of sangria, karaoke and of course, some dancing.
After a day of recovery (too much sangria for me!), we took a day trip to Florence where we took in the sights and sounds of this lovely but tourist crowded city. Sitting on the steps of a church on the edge of a typical square, we reveled in the rays of sunshine while enjoying the music of a band. This was a much needed reprieve after we had somehow managed to drive into the city – a stressful experience of one-way-much-too-narrow-maze-like-streets filled with pedestrians who are in no hurry to get off the road despite the appearance of a car.
Florence is a great city to walk in – avoid driving there at all costs! (Parking can be found on the outskirts). Besides the Statue of David (which is a must see!), there are some really cool buildings to admire.
A day trip to Sienna was also on the agenda.
One day, after Curtis dropped the ladies off in Radda in Chianti (the nearest town to our villa), we headed off in the opposite direction and visited the charming little town of Volpaia.
It was here that we discovered the gastronomical delights of truffle pasta and wild boar. You can read all about our exquisite dining experience at La Bodega on Curtis’s travel blog.
Another highlight of our Tuscan experience was the truffle cheese – what a combo! I had read an article about truffles before we arrived in Italy and found out that at one point, truffles were being sold for more than the price of gold per pound! Which only made me want to try them more. They did not disappoint.
Unfortunately when we returned from our eating orgy, we found out that Jackie had taken a spill while walking on the side of the winding road – and broken her arm and ankle. Which meant an all day trip to the hospital on our final day in Tuscany and one passenger sporting a couple of casts on our two day drive back to Frankfurt.]]>
Our next stop was a brief but oh so exquisite one. We stopped in Verona to visit one of my favorite wineries – Villa Rinaldi. They don’t usually do public tastings unless expecting you, but this family run winery was very welcoming and hospitable. Cinzia, one of the daughters, let us choose three wines to taste, while telling us about her family history. How she would accompany her father to the vineyards at harvest time as a young girl or how her palate began to appreciate and distinguish the subtle differences in grape varieties or vintages.
Each wine we tasted was more delicious than the last. When the Amarone passed my lips (a grape variety I was unfamiliar with), I could understand how Bacchus (the god of wine) could call wine “nectar from the gods” – that’s how exquisite this was.
Just as we were all raving about the 2001 Rinaldi Maior Amarone Della Valpolicella, Curtis asked if we could try the Corpus Amarone Reserve wine. After a slight hesitation, she opened a bottle and, I have to admit, I fell in love.
It was like pouring liquid velvet and silk into my mouth – with flavours of cherries, chocolate, spices and dates. If wine could dance in your mouth, this one would be doing the tango.
It was so heavenly that for a moment I was going to pay the 110 euro price tag – but then I gave my head a shake and plummeted back to the reality of my bank account. The four of us purchased a bottle of the Rinaldi Maior Amarone to be enjoyed later – a mere 45 euros – and totally worth it.
All of that wine tasting whet our appetites for lunch so with bellies full of great Italian cuisine at a local restaurant, we hopped back into Lucy to continue our journey and ended up at the Ferrari Museum in Modena.
Wiping away the drool after admiring dozens of beautiful machines, we managed to tear ourselves away from the cherry red Ferraris and continue to our destination of Parma.
Curtis and I had read a John Grisham book, Playing For Pizza, that was set in Parma and had the most tantalizing descriptions of the mouthwatering food. So we were keen to go.
Arriving after dark and finding all the hotel rooms either booked or insanely expensive, we stumbled upon something in our price range – a hostel.
The only room available however, was one with two bunk beds. While the thought of a real honest to goodness pajama party had Dagmar filled with schoolgirl glee – this prospect felt like the cherry on top of my shit sundae. Because I had spent the entire day (most of it trapped in a moving vehicle) – with a 75 year old woman who was becoming more and more irritating to me. The irritation I was feeling had been building up for days. Listening to phrases such as, “look how green the grass is here” or (every two hours like clockwork), “Curtis, do you need a break?” (from driving) or, “I’m just going to move this book or open the window or blow my nose or whatever small movement I am making I feel I have to announce to the entire car.” You get the point. Not to say that Jackie is not a nice person because she is. Being thrown into a practically 24/7 situation with an elderly stranger – one who has obviously grown very accustomed to constantly talking to themselves – is tough. If she hadn’t been 40 years my senior, I would have (nicely) asked her to shut up. Since I could never speak to someone her age like that, all of my animosity boiled inside of me, festering like a pot of cheese fondue.
And now I was stuck bunking up beside her.
Which turned out to be a good thing because the four of us went out for dinner and had a lovely time. That Parma ham is so good, no one could feel anything but giddy after the first bite.
Upon a recommendation from the hostel, we had chosen a nearby restaurant with a family vibe. Checkered tablecloths, jugs of wine and filled with locals – it was the perfect spot.
While Curtis and Jackie both ordered a pizza, Dagmar and I had the calzone. Which is nothing like any calzone you could possibly eat in North America. Unless you’re Italian and your grandmother is visiting from the old country and makes it for you – then maybe.
It arrived filled with Parma cheese and Parma ham and was the size of a football. And I ate the whole thing. Every last bite. That’s how good it was. Cheesy, meaty, doughy goodness.
Next stop after the pajama party in Parma was a town called Lucca where we rented a house in the woods for two nights. When I say, “in the woods”, I mean it. There was no way one would be able to find it on one’s own. The owner had to meet us in town and we followed her Fiat Panda for many, many kilometers through the middle of nowhere until she drove to the very edge of a cliff, threw the car in reverse, spun the car around and made a dash up a driveway that was so hidden and covered with leaves that it was invisible from the direction we had come. With nervous laughter, we followed suit, and found a beautiful old house perched amongst the trees at the top of the steep driveway. If we hadn’t had a GPS, we would never have found our way back to it once we left.
We made a day trip to Cinque-Terra, which consists of five colorful towns built into the cliffs along the Mediterranean Sea. It’s a beautiful spot, especially when the sun is shining – but it was one day when our luck with the weather didn’t last. The rain was so intense that there was no hope of staying dry – or of hiking the trail connecting the towns – because it was just too slippery and dangerous. After exploring the first town, we hopped on a train to the last town, getting a slight taste of the scenery from our rain-splattered windows.
Surrendering to the fact that we were going to get soaked, Curtis and I walked around exploring and even cheered on one brave soul who was determined to take a dip in the sea – who turned out to be Canadian.
Losing track of time and realizing that we would have to run back to the station to catch our train, we sprinted back only to find our train was delayed. After waiting for almost 30 minutes, a train approached with an announcement in Italian and the four of us boarded, assuming it was ours.
When it whizzed by our stop without stopping, we found out it wasn’t.
Luckily the next stop wasn’t too far out of our way and didn’t cost too much to get back. We made it back to Lucy before getting locked into the parkade and wound our way back through the rain slicked mountainous road to our house in the woods.
Next up: Pisa & Tuscany!]]>
Every morning the usual huge spread of breakfast delights was served and the eggs were so fresh that one morning there were only two – since that was all the chickens had laid that day.
Highlights from the birthplace of Mozart included a bike ride through country trails alongside a canal (perfect for dipping your toes into) with the backdrop of the majestic Alps always just a glance away. A visit to yet another castle, where we got to try our hand at puppetry (turns out that Curtis is a very good puppet master) and window shopping at unique stores like the one that sold thousands of hand painted decorative eggs.
Unfortunately we caught Dagmar’s Canadian cold on our last day, which seemed to get progressively worse and lasted about a week. Our next stop was 3 nights in Innsbruck -which Curtis and I didn’t see much of – until we stopped there again on our way back from Italy.
Innsbruck is a charming town filled with colorful old buildings and weather warm enough to enjoy a meal outside – at the end of October! Until you take the funicular up the mountain and get to the top of the Austrian Alps – it’s cold and windy up there with traces of snow – and breathtakingly beautiful.
We hiked for hours on the Alps and came across a herd of grazing goats, who soon fell in love with us. The bells around their necks jingled a magical little tune and when it was time for us to leave, the jingling followed us for quite a ways as they trotted after their new friends, trying to follow us home.
After an airport café breakfast the next morning (the one at the hotel is overpriced), we hopped on a shuttle bus that took us into Frankfurt Main. During that 90-minute bus ride, I caught my first glimpse of German vineyards.
We spent our second night in Frankfurt at the wonderful budget hotel, the Hotel Europa. The bathrooms aren’t worth mentioning but the free wifi and the super comfy bed are – along with the fabulously friendly staff and the huge buffet breakfast (also free).
Our evening was spent in a smoky bar that was filled with kitschy blinking lights and a Finding Nemo nautical theme, drinking wine and eating the only thing on the menu – sausage!
Curtis left the hotel early the next morning to pick up our rental car while I lingered over my big German breakfast of coffee, cereal, yoghurt and sliced cheeses.
After picking me up in our brand new Audi, we set off for the airport, only to discover that the GPS was in German, we didn’t have a map and we had no idea what the German word for “airport” was. We took a wild guess as to the right direction, got to a dead end, turned around and randomly chose another route. We soon stopped at a hotel and asked the Indian doorman for directions – and that’s who taught us the German word for airport. It’s flughaven. Which doesn’t look or sound anything like airport or aeroporto or aeroport – not an obvious translation.
Once we found the flughaven, we also found Curtis’s mom Dagmar and her friend Jackie – whom we would be traveling with for the next month.
With her German, Dagmar changed the GPS setting to English, we programmed our first destination and were soon on the autobahn – on our way to Bacharach.
Bacharach is a quaint town that you enter through an ancient archway. It is surrounded by vineyards and filled with very German looking buildings and shops that sell typical German beer steins and bottles of Rieslings. The Rhine runs next to the town and you can hike up to an old castle (which is now a hotel) or up to an ancient tower set on the sloping vineyards.
We spent three nights in Bacharach, the highlight of which was a boat ride along the Rhine. Cruising by castle after majestic castle, surrounded by hillsides bursting with the bright colors of autumn, feeling the sun warm our faces while the breeze tousled our hair, we enjoyed a wonderful afternoon.
After three days of living in Riesling territory and eating the huge German breakfasts provided by our guesthouse, we set off for Niedenstein – the town Dagmar was born in – on a quest decreed by Oma (Curtis’s grandmother).
Oma had written down extremely detailed, specific instructions for us to visit six different people, either to deliver little gifts that she had sent along or just to chat and learn something about some distant relatives.
Out of our six quests, only three were successful – one to deliver a little bell to a six year old girl (the daughter of some distant cousin), one to visit an elderly aunt and one to deliver a super tiny beer glass to the friend of a friend of some guy (now deceased) who gave Oma a deal on cabbage once (or something like that).
Niedenstein is a very small town and while Dagmar and Jackie settled in at Dagmar’s aunt’s house, Curtis and I stayed in the only guest house in town, Zum Falkenstein, run by Norbert, a very friendly fellow and amazing cook. Every morning he prepared gourmet breakfasts of our choice consisting of fresh rolls with jam, sliced meat and cheeses and scrambled eggs or omelets with roast potato “hashbrowns”. The breakfasts were included in our 40 euros per night and we looked forward to stuffing ourselves with them everyday. They were also the only “alone” time we had amongst lots of family visits.
We were trying to have another kind of “alone” time late one morning when we were interrupted by a very enthusiastic knock at the door – Curtis’s mom coming to collect us for the day. Traveling with family puts a bit of damper on the romance….
After three days in Niedenstein and more delicious little cakes than I’ve eaten in my entire life (every visit with every new relative ensured more cake – always more than one kind), it was time to hop back into Lucy (as we dubbed the Audi since she was constantly talking to us) and set off for Salzburg, Austria.]]>
Italian is one of the most beautiful languages ever! It’s beautiful to listen to and beautiful to speak. Simply put – Italian is sexy!
At one time in Italy, there were hundreds of different dialects of Italian spoken. This got to be pretty confusing so the powers that be decided there should be one dialect chosen as the common or “official” one for all of Italy. From all of the dialects submitted, they chose the most beautiful – the Florentine dialect Dante used when he wrote his Inferno.
Imagine choosing the most beautiful dialect from an already beautiful language – no wonder Italian is the most romantic of all the Romance languages!
We awoke from our nap in time to start thinking about dinner. Wandering the “streets” of Venice at night is even more magical than during the day. The lights from the buildings are reflected in the water of the canals and it’s the best time to window shop. Stores are closed but they display their wares – beautiful masks and glassware – in lit window displays.
We found a nice little restaurant several twists and turns through narrow alleys later and enjoyed a delicious risotto with a wonderful bottle of Prosecco (Italian sparkling wine).
Breakfast was included at our hotel so we were disappointed when we went downstairs the next morning to find that it had already finished. Feeling very confused, we soon discovered that Venice time is an hour ahead of London time….
When we weren’t eating pizza, pasta or risotto or sampling all of the delicious flavours of gelato (Ferrero Rocher was to die for!), we spent our time wandering around, just taking it all in.
Piazza San Marco is one of the most photographed squares in Venice – and possibly the world. Everywhere you look, you are surrounded by amazing buildings, huge crowds of people, millions of pigeons and musicians serenading the customers at the outdoor cafes. There is a beautifully baroque church and a tall bell tower, which offers amazing views.
After our three days in Venice were up, we hopped onto a vaporetto (water bus) which took us along the Grand Canal to Lido and to our beautiful B&B, the Casa Delle Rose. There are three rooms at the B&B – the Green Room, the Blue Room and the Pink Room. All are amazing (I made sure to peek into each one) – ours was the Pink Room.
This place was fabulous, the photographs on their website didn’t even do it justice – and our host Stefano was really nice.
Lido has a totally different vibe than Venice. For one thing, there are cars on this island, but there is also lots of space. It’s more “normal” – it doesn’t have the quaint old world charm of Venice and isn’t covered in hundreds of snaking canals. What it does have though, is a fabulous beach. It also has some great running trails (we were trying to keep a balance between all the gelato and pasta and keeping active).
You can rent these funny two seater (side by side) bikes, which were just too silly to resist. We rented one for an hour – which was enough – those things are hard to pedal up hill!
For my birthday dinner, we wanted to go somewhere special. We had avoided most of the bad food/bad wine tourist traps that are prevalent in Venice, mostly by sticking to places a little more “down home” looking – and ones that were frequented by locals. We had a few fave spots that we frequented for the deliciously simple four cheese pizza or the home made ravioli with good house reds. The only bad house wine we were served tasted like cherry coke – but well, we managed to drink it anyways.
Chatting with a British/American couple over breakfast – we got a recommendation from them for a great restaurant – Casin Dei Nobili. If you are ever in Venice, this place is a must! Outstanding food and wine at reasonable prices, great atmosphere and service. We LOVED our fresh pasta and the bottle of pinot grigio we ordered. The chocolate dessert was heavenly and they even gave us free digestifs at the end of our meal – limoncello – a lemon flavoured licquer.
The place got packed and we found it amusing when one of our fellow diners was given the royal treatment – his own chair and some tasty snacks. He remained very well behaved while eyeing his neighbor’s pizza.
We considered taking a gondola ride but after checking with a few gondoliers and being quoted 80 – 100 euros for a half-hour ride, we opted to stand on one of the main bridges instead and enjoy the sights and sounds of many gondolas for free.
As our magical time in Venice came to an end, having almost eaten our fill of Italian delights and tickled our tongues with enough Prosecco bubbles, we were ready to say ciao ciao and head back to Frankfurt. But first, a final picture of the Darth Vader statue that sits majestically and strangely on Lido.
With that, we hop on the vaporetto which whisks us to our bus, which whisks us to the airport, where we fly to Frankfurt to meet up with Curtis’s mom and her friend for a month long road trip. Stay tuned.]]>
The possibilities being practically endless and not knowing when else in my life I would be spending my birthday anywhere I wanted in Europe – I really debated this dilemma for some time.
I asked friends who had traveled in Europe before for advice.
If you could spend your birthday anywhere, where would it be?
Celest recommended Vienna, Austria and “not just for the amazing ice cream”. She also recommended the Czech Republic and Paris of course, but she knew we’d already been there.
Teena thought I would enjoy both Amsterdam and Prague, in entirely different ways.
When I asked a group of fellow diners in the UK where they would go, Nestor very authoritatively yelled out, “Venice!” He then went on to rave about what a wonderfully magical place it is. (I didn’t find out until much later that he hadn’t actually been there – claiming he hadn’t found a boyfriend special enough to go with.)
His enthusiasm got me thinking though and the more I checked out the discount airlines flights, the more sense Venice made. We were able to fly to Venice from London on Easyjet and then from Venice to Frankfurt on Ryanair. The flight dates matched up perfectly, the price was right and I was all set to book it until I realized how difficult it is finding accommodations in Venice. Especially reasonably priced accommodations!
I found a lovely looking B&B on Lido (a short ferry ride away from Venice) called Casa Delle Rose that was “only” 90 euros a night. (Which was a lot more than we’ve been spending on accommodations but is actually a very good price for Venice.) They only had a room available for 3 of the 6 nights though. Further seeking yielded the small and extremely well located Hotel Falier, right in the heart of Venice. We really splashed out on this place at 120 euros per night (including breakfast and wifi) but it was my birthday.
There are two airports in Venice – Marco Polo airport is about 20 minutes from the city and Treviso is approximately 90 minutes away. Easyjet flies into Marco Polo while Ryanair uses the Terviso airport.
We arrived in Venice without any kind of guidebook whatsoever – our plan was to wing it – with a little help from the ‘net of course.
Arriving at Marco Polo, I awoke from my slumber just in time to see the scattering of islands that comprise Venezia with the waterway road network that snakes between them. There were dozens of motorboats following each other like ants, their path clearly marked.
There are two bus companies that provide transportation to the Piazzale Roma. A.T.V.O. (blue coach) costs 3.00 euros and has luggage facilities and seats for passengers (this is the one we took) and the A.C.T.C. (orange coach) without luggage facilities (okay if you don’t have a backpack the size of a small elephant) and sitting/standing room, which is half the price at 1.50 euros.
Or, if you have buckets of money, you can take a private water taxi from the airport straight to your hotel for about 100 euros (for 2 people with luggage).
But then you would miss out on all the fun of navigating your way over the bridges, along the canals and through the “streets” (alleyways!) of Venice – carrying the weight of a small hippo on your back – for the very first time. And I’m not being facetious!
Venice is an absolute maze of bridges, alleys, old buildings and canals – that’s the fun of it!
A reasonably short walk from the bus station, we managed to find our hotel without getting lost (which is a miracle in Venice!) When I saw our room, it was so pretty I had a hard time believing that this was only a 2 star hotel.
Feeling famished, we set off to find lunch and experience our first meal in Italy. Which was very exciting – since Italian food had been my absolute favorite since I was a kid.
We found a quaint pizzeria in a quiet courtyard and ordered our first pizza in Italy. Along with a tomato and bococcini salad and some house red – our meal was delicious.
When our bill arrived, we noticed there was a “cover charge” or “il coperto” and a service charge. The latter having been crossed out, we assumed it meant that it was up to us how much we wanted to tip. But paying a cover charge was a bit of a surprise until I did some reading up on it and discovered that this was simply how things are done in Italy. The cover charge ranges from 1.50 – 3.00 euros per person and is meant to cover the cost of bread and a glass of tap water (although no self respecting Italian would ever deign to drink tap water!) Some restaurants will state “no cover charge”, but overall, it just comes with the territory when in Italy and we got used to it.
Stuffed full of pizza, we sleepily sauntered back to our room for a much needed afternoon nap…and awoke a few hours later to the salient sound of opera drifting in through our window.]]>