Cuzco::Lima as Austin::Houston

We started out in the morning being picked up by Maria Elena, our tour guide for the next few days. Religion is huge part of life in Cuzco. Not because everyone is constantly praying, but because it has shaped the beautiful city that Cuzco has become. Maria Elena, herself is a Catholic Quechuan, but gives great insight into the fusion culture of Cuzco explaining that Catholicism in Cuzco is different from anywhere else in that it combines superstitions from the Incan beliefs, natural Paganism, and what we all know as Catholicism. It is truly a beautiful combination and it was nice/refreshing to see cultures from opposite ends of the spectrum, come together. Gives me hope for our future. However, as mushy and sweet as this sounds, it didn't come without the Incas overcoming great adversity.

The conquistadors (that as a 4th grade social studies teacher who realizes how much crap is written in those textbooks that glorify the greed of these conquistadores) were not people that Peruvians look up to. In their reality, the conquistadors represent the stripping of their culture and way of life. Even though now many of the people of Cuzco accept Catholocism as their faith, they still resent the Spanish for shoving their beliefs down their throats. Hm... I can't imagine that being offensive...This information was very interesting to me and she went into great detail that would take me forever to go into. You're probably wondering why I am explaining all of this. Everything in the Incan history and the ruins we explored today was connected to the Spanish conquistadors. We visited multiple ruins that showcased the Incas' mathematical genius, their ingenuity, and their incomparable creativity that the Spanish were unable to match. Where Spanish churches crumbled and had to be rebuilt due to earthquakes, the Incan ruins (those that weren't destroyed by the Spanish) still stand with a strong foundation, without using the mortar and cement the Spanish used in their constructions. We ended the tour in a stunning church that showed thousands of pounds of gold encrusted crosses, altars, religious statues...really breathtaking beauty and were surprised (others were surprised, but I knew exactly why she ended the tour in this cathedral) to find out that this stunning institute of purity, morality, and holiness...would not be, had the Spanish so kindly, not have melted the gold off of every single Incan temple in Cuzco over the course of 6 months. I have a feeling that it will be a really long time until Cuzco turns into yet another money making, corporate run city, like it's friend Lima. When that time comes, the people of Cuzco will be smarter and will rely on the memories of their past and their roots to stand tall against the seemingly powerful and strong influences of Greed.

On a happier note, Cuzco is absolutely breathtaking, but I felt that in order to appreciate all that is Cuzco, one must understand its complicated history. Out of all the places I've been to, Cuzco is one of the only places I would live in. The people are so happy, have no complaints and welcome you in with open arms. They smile at you, speak in a very romantic, sweet way towards one another, and remind me that it is so important to slow down and smell the roses. Also, this city is now very near and dear to my heart because I met my first alpaca friend. He/she was so cute! I am in love (with both alpacas and this city).

The Hustle and Bustle of Lima

Lima is a beautiful city off the coast of the Pacific Ocean. Since it is right on the shoreline, it is very unique and beautiful and reminded me a lot of Barcelona. We had so much fun in Lima. We started out by exploring the Miraflores area in which we were staying in. This trendy hotspot boasts plenty of gastronomical eateries that would appeal to most foodies, and even has restaurants that reminded me of the good ole ATX that would appeal to the hipsters that dine in South Congress. Lima is now one of the top five culinary cities in the world and loves to show off its culinary fusion foods and boy do they have some good eats. Anyway, after exploring the area in which we were residing in, we took a tour of the actual city. Words cannot express the architectural beauty of this old world yet modern city. I wish I could post a picture on here, but the iPad is stupid. Anyways, the cathedrals were spectacular, but reflected the cruelty and thievery of the Catholic churches on the native peoples, the Quechua (the kings of the Quechua were known as the Incas. We always learned that the Incas were a people, but Incas were the kings of the Quechua). The cathedrals, ornate in gold and silver, were truly breathtaking, and the process of retrieval (melting them off of Inca temples and plastering them onto beautiful, but cheaply made alters) bore close resemblance to another tragedy in history: the stealing of fine jewels from the Taj Mahal by the British to try to make the English palaces less bland.

We later went to a restaurant (perfect in every way, almost) that one should not start their trip with. La Mar is one of the best rated restaurants in all of South America, and one of my student's dads, who's from Peru suggested it (and TIME Magazine). It was over an hour wait and was filled with crazy rich people dressed in their best, and then us...poor kids in denim. But god was it worth it! We devoured our appetizer, which was a piece of artwork, showcasing their finest selections of seafood. For my main course, I had a local Peruvian fish on a bed of deliciously flavored yucca, all covered in a tomato based sauce of some sort. William had a tuna steak with some other deliciousness. Til this day that is the freshest seafood we have ever had.

We ended the evening walking on the shoreline and visiting the El Beso, a statue of two people kissing and it represents two lovers in the beautiful city of Lima.

The Big City: We Arrive in Lima

​While I was dreading starting off yet another break by sitting on another long flight, the flight to Lima wasn't so bad. We started out leaving Houston and taking a short flight to Atlanta where we had an hour layover that seemed to fly because by the time we ate lunch, it was time to board. I was mentally prepared for the long 6 hour journey ahead, preparing myself for gross food, swollen feet and the biggest concern of all: boredom. Luckily, I fell asleep and when I  woke up they were serving food. I was trying to convince myself that since Delta is associated with my favorite airlines, KLM, that they would provide decent food, and I was right! Grilled chicken, stuffing, sautéed carrots and spinach, a roll, crackers and cheese, and most importantly the blondie brownie! Anyhow, with the multiple meals, fruit ninja, naps and CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE on the big screen, I was impressed. By the time the entertainment was over, we landed. Once we dragged ourselves through immigration, customs, and luggage we walked out into the passenger pick up area. This is the moment I stepped back to observe the culture shock on Williams's face. What? A smile? A confused smile, but still he was smiling. As we walked into the room hundreds, literally, of people stood behind ropes holding up pick up signs. People looked down from all around balconies at the new arrivals. All you could hear was random names being called out, the joy of reuniting families, and..."taxi!" We somehow managed to find our tour guide who did an excellent job helping us feel like we were his royal guests. We were taken to our trendy hotel in Miraflores and passed out for the night, but not before updating my Facebook status, duh.

I LOVE traveling abroad, in fact love is an understatement. However, one thing I hate about arriving in a new country is that hellish car ride from the airport to your hotel. The disregarding of traffic signs and lights, the yellow lines everyone seems to ignore, and the worst of all- the honking. Dear god, is all that honking necessary? I think not. I am not one to say that anyone should do anything the "American" way, but really, with the exception of stupid teenage girls in giant SUVs, we've got the driving down. Once we arrived to our hotel, everything was pure bliss. Since we are budget travellers we picked a "modest" 3 star hotel. What we walked into could have easily been a 4 or 5 star hotel in the states. The lounge was gorgeous, the restaurant had beautiful lighting and a floor to ceiling wine rack, and our bathroom had a rain shower! We hung up our clothes in the beautiful mohagany cabinets and before I knew it, I had passed out. Tomorrow we will explore the wonderful cosmopolitan city of Lima!

Mental Prep Begins

This time in two weeks I will be in Lima, Peru. I am having mixed feelings at the moment as I comfortably lie in my divine, over-priced, and extremely comfortable bed. I am going to miss one of my favorite things to do over Winter Break...snuggle and listen to Christmas music while enjoying some hot tea with ginger. Hmm... I guess I'll just make up for it now. Even though I know I'm going to miss relaxing and being lazy, I am glad that I get to go on yet another adventure with my world-exploring partner in crime, William. We have already begun the many small, irritating tasks that must be completed before traveling out of the country. This weekend both of us acquired the nasty little yellow fever shot! Let me tell you... it is over in less than 30 seconds, but it is so freaking painful. I'm embarrassed to say, but when the pharmacist administering the shot asked me if it hurt, I was so choked up and teary eyed, I could only let out a mere, "mmmhmmm." That little bottle of vaccination stung for hours! I got the shot in a strange place, as did William- it was under the arm! Such a sensitive...squishy place :(

Either way, it's done and over and I don't need to get another one until 2022. Luckily that was the only shot I really needed. Thankfully, my parents got me vaccinated for every other disease imaginable when I was a child and traveling abroad on a more regular basis.

The preparation, research, and time that goes into preparing for a trip abroad is so immense, however there is no way around it. I work hard now, so I can enjoy my trip to its fullest once I'm there. This trip is proving to be a challenge we have not yet had to face-preparing for an uncivilized, true adventure of its own-The Amazon. Yes, we will be spending 3 nights in the Amazon...in a lovely little cabin...with no electricity...or hot water. I can imagine that while some think of this as a unique once in a lifetime experience filled with fun and adventure (what we're thinking), many, including my mother, are thinking of us to be insane. I'll let you know who is right once we come to that. But, the reason I bring it up is that it is extremely hard to plan for! I am trying to think of anything and everything that we may need to conquer, but there are many things we probably won't be able to prepare for. Oh well. I will continue to research our upcoming travel destination, hope for the best, and enjoy the Christmas spirit now! I can't believe it is only two weeks until our exploration in a new continent begins! :)

Ciao Roma, Buenos Dias Barcelona

Tomorrow is my last day in Rome, and in Italy. We have been in Italy for about 10 days, and boy was it an experience. Italy is significantly different from the 5 other countries in Europe we’ve been too. I’m interested to see how it compares to Spain, which is next. Anyways, Italy was good to us. I would recommend, to those who may plan a euro trip in the future, to start out in Italy and move out west. Italy, in my opinion, was definitely what I thought Eastern Europe would be like. It is a pretty different culture, reminded me a lot of India. People here seem to lack peripheral vision and bump into you often. You will always be in their way, and will need to get used to weaving through traffic, and the driving really reminded me of India. I think William had sort of a culture shock here, as did I. It was shocking to see Italia so different from the states, very shocking. Out of all the countries, Italy probably made me miss southern hospitality the most. An old man even yelled me at on my way to the train station in Florence. We’re not sure why, but I think it’s because I didn’t make way for him when we were crossing the streets from opposite ends. I could only go a certain way because I had rolling luggage that had to go up the ramp, and he just happened to want to hog the ramp and apparently didn’t want me to go on it? We really don’t know, but he started saying something to me in Italian, first I smiled because I thought he was being nice, and then I quickly realized he wasn’t, to which my response was… good. I didn’t get [too] bitchy; I just turned my head up and looked down at the 5 foot 2 man with my half-open “I’m not amused” look. William also stopped to try and figure out what was going on and said, “he’s crazy let’s go.” We are still not sure if he was just having a bad day, or if he was deranged.

Venice made my Italy trip. I absolutely LOVED it. After the initial “I hate [other] tourists!” shock, I realized that I could have stayed there for 10 days and have been fine. Especially with that delicious Chinese restaurant! Florence was good. We bumped into some tourists from Woodlands in Rome, who had just come to Rome from Florence also and they told us how much they were unimpressed with Florence. I definitely thought it was overrated, but climbing to the top of the Duomo was a great highlight of the trip and made Florence for me. The only downfall for Florence (for us) was weather. It was so hot. Rome was hot on the first day, but after that the weather was great, but Florence was psychotically hot; I think like 92 degrees, which is a lot when you’re walking around. Rome is about 85.

Rome, or what William likes to call it, “Roma: The Land of the Dead” was nice, but it had it’s own type of charm. William’s title definitely sums it up: most of the attractions are from the ancient world, like BC era. I think it would have been great to start of with the old and visit the Roman Forum and move to Brussels, and then to Versailles in France. It’s hard to really appreciate the beauty of the ruins… which looked oh so ruined, when you still have images of the chandeliers from the most beautiful palace in the world.

Italian Fights, Mafia Style

Italians can fight. And they do. We’ve witnessed several, and boy, are they show stoppers. We’ve seen an Italian catfight, an Italian Cop vs. minority Roma fight, and one of my favorites: local customer vs. storeowner vs. cop fight over prosciutto.

Cats Take Out Their Claws (or just point fingers)

These French tipped divas took out their pointy fingers at one another at a bakery. The waitress, with black lip liner, and the customer (?) with multi-colored hair pointed fingers at one another while screaming at the top of their lungs. Their fingers got closer and closer to one another’s face and while one towered over the other, the little one showed more and more of her teeth. This was really more of a big girl vs. mini girl fight. Me and William were on a mission, so we didn’t get to see it play out, but the owner, a man, hesitantly, but amused, watched carefully from the counter, ready to break the fight with croissants and jelly buns if it came to that. The way it was looking, it would be probably be wiser to throw the cappuccino machine.

Roma vs. Polizia

Not sure what started it, but I can take a guess. I’m assuming the Roma women were standing and begging near the ticket sales booth and the local cop decided to give them a hard time about it. Whatever it was, it offended the crap out of the Roma woman who, with baby belly-packed to her front, yelled in a condescending, accusing voice to the cop. Once again, I had no idea what was really going on, but the cop stumbled with his words, looked embarrassed, but didn’t seem to back down. His face turned redder as more and more Roma came to defend their homegirl.

Bacon Makes the World Go Around

Whether it’s your only source of protein on a farm in Wisconsin, or meat of garnish, bacon is the best thing to happen to the carnivorous world. [As you can tell, I’m having withdrawals and can’t wait to have some.] In this train station market, the customers, man and wife, fought with the storeowner about something. The husband was very distraught, with perched eyebrows and a frown turned upside down! As he yelled in Italian, he waved a giant packet of bacon in the air. Yummy! The storeowner just shouted back and in came the lame polizia, being useless, but trying to look macho with their machine guns. Obviously the machine gun was not loaded, or else I’m sure the guy would have noticed the cop and put the bacon down. I mean, either the guns are truly plastic, or that is some important bacon. Really, all bacon is.

Anyways, back to Italian life, I realized that Italians just don’t sweat. While American and other tourists drowned in their own sweat (my first day in Rome), Italians walk around, without looking slightly sticky, cigs in mouth and all. I mean even the freaking nuns are sweat-less. In pure jealousy I sadly asked William, “How come nuns aren’t hot in their dark gowns?” Hoping to be enlightened, but instead heard with mutual sadness and sarcasm, “Because Neeti, nuns walk with god.” All said without even turning around! But then I noticed the 7 drops of sweat running down the back of William’s neck. Next time I come to Rome, I’m gonna walk with god.

Best of Rome: Capuchin Crypt

This place was awesome! So it’s basically a resting place of over 4000 friars, along with poor Romans. Wikipedia explains it better than I can so here, “Large numbers of the bones are nailed to the walls in intricate patterns, many are piled high among countless others, some hang from the ceiling as working light fixtures. There are six total rooms in the crypt, all but one featuring a unique display of human bones.”
I loved it!!! It was so neat and it was free! It’s about 5 or 6 small chapels, but it is a sight to see. I’ve always wanted to be cremated, but if an artist would like to inherit my bones and create something cool, let me know! (I like birds).

Our American Friends

We’ve actually gotten really lucky with lines for the many sights we’ve seen. With the exception of Versailles and The Vatican Museum. Luckily, in the line for the Vatican Museum, we met us some good ‘ole New Mexicans! We had ourselves a blast, so much so that our two-hour wait seemed like 20 minutes. We talked about everything from being, “dumb” Americans, to bacon-less breakfasts, to the damage to our lungs from second-hand smoke, to “which smart car would you drive?” Overall, it was nice to see people who understood that pizza should not be paper thin or else it’s just dressing on a cracker, and they found comfort in the fact that we agreed with their NM slogan, “Toss no mas (aka don’t litter)” and realized that this needs to be translated and put all over Europe, especially in parks. As much as I love and appreciate being immersed in a different culture, it’s always nice to know you’re not the only one cursing the smokestack pushing their stroller, or condemning the hookers in the Red Light District.

Italian food has been great. I freaking love gnocchi and my favorite: Spaghetti Carbonara. YUMMO. Even the pizza is good, when it’s not on a cracker. And the gelato and nutella don’t hurt either. But a nice way to end our trip was getting some limoncella on the house because our waiter loved us. I think it had to do with the fact that we inhaled our food like poor children; he felt as though we could use a drink, so he gave us the strongest shit he could find. I think it was limoncella? Either way, he gave us back our credit card and said drink on the house and smiled. I smiled back because overall, Italy treated us well, but now… Estoy muy emocionado de ir a España!

STRIKE, You’re Out…on the street.

The title basically sums up our day.

Today we woke up and decided to take a morning trip to Pisa. I wanted to see the small city as well as the quirky little tower that won’t stand up straight. It started out nice and dandy as we walked about 30 minutes to the tower from the train station in sunny weather and with the cool breeze. By the time we got there, the cool breeze was still there, and if you were standing in shade you were fine, but suddenly the nice sun decided to be a little bitch and burn. It was pretty scorching so we decided, “ok lets take a few pics and head back, since we had explored much of the city on the way there.” As we walked back, hopping from curb to curb, in order to follow the shade, we finally came to the train station and bought our one-ways back to Florence.

The Tables Turn
So we wait, and wait. Train seems to be delayed 7 minutes, no biggie. We are at our platform along with a few others and a British couple our age. While we are sitting there, William is reading something on his iphone and I am staring at the departures screen and stare at the same words that have been scrolling down the bottom for about 10 minutes. Unable to read Italian, I didn’t put in the effort to try to decipher what I thought was just useless information. Finally, I noticed the word ‘cancellation.’ So I think to myself, Oh crap our train must have gotten cancelled, but I don’t panic or even tell William because I figure it must not be the one we are waiting for at the moment if William hasn’t said anything. Another word I notice is “nacionalidad.” Strange, cancellation and national in the same sentence and I turn to William and ask, “what is that message talking about?” He reads it and comes to the same conclusion, “they must have cancelled our train, oh well let’s wait for the next one”, which is what we had to do this morning on our way to Pisa. HEADS UP: If you are in ITALIA and you notice that some trains are being “cancelled” don’t leave your city. Keep reading to find out why.

Within seconds, (I have really good instincts) I feel that something is not right. I realize that the iphone is distracting William and continue to try to translate the rest of the message, as I am focusing on it. I realize that something important is happening across the nation, that’s about all I can make of it, but good enough and as I’m about to take the iphone away and express my concern, a large man starts yelling at the British couple (not in a mean way) in Italian that the train is cancelled, some more stuff in Italian, and my favorite phrase he used to describe our situation: “train is KAPUT! You get? TRAIN IS KAPUT!!!!! NACIONALIDAD, T-R-A-I-N I-S K-A-P-U-T!!!” The British girl starts freaking out trying to communicate with this man who obviously is very annoyed by her and her high pitch voice. He cringes and yells the same things he’s been yelling while she stupidly does what she’s been doing. [Seriously, she looked like a chicken with her head cut off.] As this goes on me and William watch in total amusement until he says one word that makes us freeze, “Strike.” “Nacionalidad Strike.” Ok so one, and then two words that make us freeze.

Funny thing is, is that William had read about this before we left. As part of our extensive research, William approached me one day and said, “alright I think we’re totally ready. I even read what to do when the trains go on strike.” I laughed. So immediately after hearing the word strike, I asked William, “What do we do?” William obviously didn’t read anything that helpful. We go back to the main part of the station and look at the board and notice that every single departure now reads, “cancelled.” How lovely. I watch the British couple, well just the girl, go into sheer panic mode and convince her boyfriend that they must leave the train station, which reminded me of my dad. If he were here, before I even went to Europe, I’d have all sorts of Emergency info typed up onto a word doc, duplicated, laminated, and discretely placed in my purse telling me what to do. In case of a strike, it would read – similar to what this girl was thinking – “in case of strike, quickly proceed out of station, hold possessions close by, immediately take taxi out of town. Proceed far, far away, for a violent riot may occur, in which it would be your best interest to avoid.” So while the couple used their valuable pounds to take them to safety, I decided to man it through any riots, which did not occur.

Instead, people left annoyed, sat hopelessly, and I saw an old, Italian lady cry. Can you guess what I did? a) get angry b) get confused c) get hungry d) all of the above.


The answer is D, but in a very particular order. First, I got super confused. I stayed calm and looked at the board. I noticed that the only train still running was to the Pisa airport, so I asked William if we should try to fly back to Florence. He looked hesitant. Then I asked about buses – there are none. Lastly, I wondered about a taxi, but it was over an hour drive and I’d have to pay both ways for the driver and rather be stuck in Pisa. Next, we became hungry. Instead of strictly sticking to Italian food like we’ve been doing, we went to McDonalds. I guess it was a comforting thing because I usually avoid McDonalds at all costs. While I got a 6 piece, William got The Big Mac, and we paid 40 cents for our ketchup?!?!?! Third, I got angry. We all knew that was coming. I went into my “American- superior – arrogant – this would never happen in America mode”, and this NEVER happens, I'm usually the one saying, "ok calm down, not everything can be like it is in America". It didn’t last long though. Other Americans also seemed to do this, but we all kept it on the down low. We approached an American man and asked him what he knew, because all the TVs were playing the same dumb cell phone commercial on repeat instead of the news. He told us that he stood in line for information and found out there will be a train, 5 hours later, at 6 that will be the one and only train out of Pisa straight to Florence. We were happy, but very scared because we were both pretty sure it would be very ugly. Sadly, at this time we also remembered naively watching CNN world one night in Paris while the tourists were abandoned at the train stations in Spain during their strike and thinking that it would never be us.

William tried to convince me to go and explore more of Pisa, but I just had this feeling that we shouldn’t leave the station. I told William, “let’s just go sit on the platform where the train will be leaving from and wait, and gather up the courage we will need to fight our way onto the train.” He agreed. So we waited, then we decided to go to information and see if there were any updates. After waiting in line the woman confirmed what the American man had told us and we returned to our bench on the platform. Two hours later, our board now flashed a departure time. It showed that there was 5 minutes before a train arrived to go to Florence. I was shocked! What??? But the train wasn’t supposed to come for another 3.5 hours. I was so confused, as the train came and people ran to second class, I grabbed William’s hand and jumped onto first class, being the first ones on, avoiding the crowd, and grabbing us some wonderful, cushion-ey seats in the air conditioned den. I figured we’d have to find a way onto this train, one way or another, and I did. No one even came to check our tickets! My first time in first class!

We quickly returned to Florence, overjoyed that we happened to be on the platform when this surprise train came. I skipped off the train, only to see hundreds of people waiting hopelessly in the Florence train station to reach their final destinations. My smile turned to a frown and I immediately felt bad for the poor souls who would have to wait until who knows when.



Dear Italy,

Please get it together. I do not think it is right that people cannot rely on your only affordable mode of transportation. I saw old grandmas sad because they couldn’t attend their granddaughters’ weddings, children who were feeling the heat waves of your park-less cities, people scared that they wouldn’t get home in time to take their medications, and foreign tourists who were missing their flights on very expensive vacations. Yes, I understand these things “just happen,” but obviously for a reason: something is not right. It is your responsibility to help the people and workers of your country and if your trains continue randomly going on strikes, it will only hurt you when the thousands of tourists return home and tell everyone that vacation to Italy is not worth it when you spend half of it at a train station.

Yours truly,
Disgruntled tourist: Neeti Prasad

Venice and Our tiny Moment of Fame

When we arrived in Venice, William was like a kid in a candy store. He could not wait to get off the Vaporetto and explore this water town. He declared it his favorite stop before he even explored it, due to all the water canals. Strangely, he didn’t feel this way for Amsterdam, which is also a water canal city; I’m pretty sure he was a dolphin in his last life. Anyways, my first impression of Venice was not so pretty. While William basically frolicked through the streets, I couldn’t help but stare at the hundreds of tourists around me. They were everywhere (and yes I realize I’m one of them). But this was different. The populations of young people were seriously lacking and the number of old people were comparable to the pigeon population here. I cannot figure out of which I saw more. I guess I was just shocked to see so many tourists, after traveling to 6 cities and being one of very few tourists, it was strange to see nothing but tourists. Even worse, this town, of what I thought was romantic young couples was filled with tourist groups of massive sizes. The only time I saw young people was when we walked with a group of 50 along the main canal. As me and William ventured out of St. Mark’s Square into the real Venice, we were glad to see the college students by the mass get herded onto undersized boats and shipped off to a less rowdy place.

This is when I fell in love with Venice. I remember reading everywhere that you cannot really get lost in Venice, so go ahead and get lost. And as the sun set, the crowds disappeared, and the waters became restless (due to a storm somewhere), we set out to venture the streets of Venezia. We took random twists and turns and ended up tiptoeing through streets and basically eavesdropping, in a cute way though. The farther we got into the city, away from our hotel, away from St. Marks, the more we saw how Venetians lived their lives. We walked down a narrow street with windows open, but curtains closed and listened to the nice and peaceful sounds of forks and knives against ceramic plates and bowls. Our designated exploration time was everyone else’s dinnertime. Families gathered, ate, drank, laughed and shared stories of their day, though we couldn’t understand. We were so nervous they would hear, but we kept going down our path, wanting to hear more. Eventually we realized we were totally lost and decided to track our way back to the Great Canal.

St. Mark’s Square, The Basilica San Marco and Doge’s Palace, were just ok. I really just liked Doge’s Palace, but I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll just tell you my favorite part: The Chastity Belt. OMG I had never seen one of these!!! So weird! At first I thought it was some sort of torture device for men; a belt to smoosh their private into a million pieces. So when I asked William what it was, he told me, “Yes, it’s definitely a torture device.” But, as I continued to wonder how exactly it worked, he totally realized I didn’t know what it was. When he told me it was a chastity belt, I was totally shocked; those really exist? It was scary; and I doubt it is even bearable to wear.

Hundreds of people crowded St. Mark’s Square, which I later realized was to feed pigeons? I feared the spread of disease. I’m glad we got all that over with. My favorite part of Venice was the shopping and music. Oh and our moment of fame. Our hotel, Hotel Doni, was a cute little one right off the canal behind St. Mark’s Square. Very convenient location, and a quiet area because the canal was a small one. I liked having the canal there, because our window looked out to it. It was nice to look out at in the morning and pretty to hear the gondolas passing in the evening. Anyways, earlier, we took our gondola ride, which was very nice. It was in the morning because we’d have to sell a kidney to ride it in the evening and the traffic was less. Our Gondolier was a burly man, sort of intimidating, until he started singing! LOL. He was interesting that’s for sure. But either way he gave us some good tips and showed us a few places including Marco Polo’s home and the Casa Nova Home. But, while we were riding our gondola, people would stop, by the mass, and take pictures of us. We were sort of freaked out, but our gondolier seemed to like the attention. People took pictures from the sides of streets, bridges, restaurants, you name it. I was so confused until later when I noticed from my balcony that after 50 gondolas passed by, I only saw one couple. Majority of Gondoliers serve groups, tours, families, groups of friends, and even random people splitting costs, but hardly couples. When those people saw William and me they finally saw what people traditionally expect to see on a gondola, a (multi-racial!) couple.

Same thing happened in my window. As hundreds of gondolas passed our canal, I stood out to watch them because many of them hired singers and accordion players to entertain them on their cruises. As I stood over my balcony taking in my beautiful surroundings, people pointed, waved, tapped their friends and pointed up at me and took several pictures. It was so weird. I almost was afraid to leave the window, afraid to disappoint and have tomatoes thrown in. After about 5 pictures, I told William what was going on and he joined in. We stood under our green and white striped cloth covered balcony, leaning over, with the wind in our face, posing for people’s pictures. And they just kept coming until I heard a growl. My tummy, of course. Then we left for dinner. The best food I’ve had on the trip was a place with the original title: Chinese Ristorante. We ordered Chicken with Black Mushrooms, Cashew Chicken, Cantonese rice, and red wine only to be totally shocked and in love with this Venetian-Chinese restaurant. The chicken was in perfect bite-size pieces and totally clean, the rice was not greasy at all and the mushrooms were so unique, but delicious. So now you know, come to Chinese Ristorante for a pleasant surprise in Venice. The A.C. and modern interior weren’t too bad either.