Venice, or 'More Cheap Wine!'

I arrived in Venice on Tuesday night. Just as the bus dropped me off in the city, it began to rain, and it was dark, and due to the crap map of the city that is in my Let's Go guide, I was having a lot of trouble finding my hotel. I wandered around for more than an hour, crossing the same bridges over and over again, going in an out of alleys that were eerily familiar, worried that I was getting seriously lost and would have to camp out on the streets for my first night. With my foot not any better and my stomach growling, I was at the point of either crumbling on the pavement into a ball of sobs and moans or slaughtering something when I looked up, and like some damn omen, there was my hotel, right smack in front of me.



By the next morning, a gorgeous, crisp day, Venice appeared to me as the brilliant maze I was hoping it would be. I walked a great deal. The night before, I had met a few ladies from Munich who assured me that 'you can't get lost in Venice,' even though I had just an hour earlier, but I still took their word and just started walking. I bought a good map, too. I stumbled upon the fish market, a great deal of shops selling watches, blown glass, clothes, and wine, I found the Piazza San Marco, and took a ferry boat thing through the Grand Canal. I found a fantastic little wine shop where wine was sold in enormous barrels and for 2.94 euro, I got a 1.5 liter bottle (a recycled water bottle, even) of pinio grigio that was delicious. It was a difficult task to finish the whole thing in the two days while I stayed at my hotel, but I rose to the occasion.

For dinner that night I went walking in the San Croce district, where I found a place called Osteria Moncenigo. (I had been given restaurant recommendations, but I still don't understand how addresses work in this city; it is absolutely impossible to find anything that isn't already marked on my map.) I had--for 1.8 euro--a half litre of the house white (delicious), a primi of paparbelle granceto asparagi (also delicious, a light, flat and wide noodle pasta with asparagus), and 'seppie in nero con polenta': I didn't know what seppie was, but I did want to have polenta at some point in Italy. It turns out that seppie is a squid-like fish called scuttlefish. It was clearly very fresh, and the black sauce that it was cooked in was made from the scuttlefish's ink sacks. Apparently it's a local specialty. I enjoyed being adventurous, but doubt I'd order it again.

The next day it snowed. I was tempted to stay in with my pinio grigio and my book (I just finished _Notes on a Scandal_), but I forced myself out into the storm and for the first half hour or so I was pretty miserable. But then I hooked myself up to my ipod, played some Van Morrison, and, despite being ill prepared for snow and really irritated with the deceptively deep puddles everywhere, I experienced a sort of willful surrender to the moment. I found myself seriously enjoying getting lost. I stopped in a small market and bought bread, a local Gorgonzola cheese, and some delicious salami, and then found my way back to my hotel, laid out my meal on my bed, poured a glass of pinio grigio, and had probably one of the best afternoons of my life.



I found another out-of-the way restaurant, Oggi al Timon, and had amazing lasagne for dinner; it was so delicate and the cheese was so ripe, almost like souffle..... I've never had anything like it. Then I ordered another polenta plate, but this time it came drenched in a Gruyere-like cheese that was a bit rich for me, but still very good.

And this afternoon I'm returning to London, to start the dogsitting stint. I'm looking forward to my slippers and seeing a few movies. And I'm going to start reading some Henry James.