By late afternoon Sunday I felt like a dead man and was secretly regretting my vacation before it had barely begun. We had flown over night to Paris where we only were to stay for the day, leaving our bags in a creepy consigne at the Gare de Lyon while traipsing around the city for a few (actually almost twelve) long hours, waiting for the train to Venice. And to be honest, I have mixed feelings about Paris, some of them personal and some of them related to the coldness of the city despite its extraordinary beauty and unlimited attractions.
Madeleine had never been there and some of our excitement in this trip is seeing old sites through her new eleven-year old eyes, so we dragged our sleepless selves from the Notre Dame to the Musee d’Orsay to the Tour Eiffel and by the time we were back at the Gare de Lyon and shlepping our bags from there to Gare de Bercy for our train, I had about given up. This European vacation stuff was over-rated…. or it was something I did when I was younger and more energetic and should put on the shelf now. To make matters worse, the Paris-Venice express looked pretty tatty and our roomette made a sardine can seem generous. The dinner in the dining car was atrocious and the only reason I didn’t start crying over the absurd cost (99 Euros for three for some rubber chicken and a half bottle of wine that made Trader Joe’s Two Buck Chuck taste like Chateau Lafite) was that it kept us out of the tiny room for an hour.
But then something happened. We all fell into a blissful sleep on the train and woke up in Venice refreshed to arrive at this extraordinary hotel the Palazzo Abadessa. It’s an old palazzo with gigantic rooms and Venetian art, far from the San Marco crowds, but not too far. Sheryl, who is a genius at ferreting out such things, booked it. This is a quick shot I took of their second floor foyer, to give you an idea.
We made it in time for breakfast in their garden.
Now, after a day doing the tourist thing (Ca d’Oro, Doge’s Palace), I am sitting in their lobby typing this and staring out at the small canal in front of the palazzo’s water taxi entrance. An occasional small boat putters by. Life is good. I even stayed calm listening to that Scottish doofus MacAskill explain his moral phoniness on CNN. I mean – let’s keep everything in perspective. The world may be going to Hell in the proverbial hand basket, but I’m going to have a good prosecco with squid risotto tonight. What could be bad?
I was hoping for a travel update and was not disappointed. Thanks for the wonderful interlude to my Monday morning. Have a wonderful vacation and may you and your family stay safe. Rest up, enjoy and get back soon. We need your perspective back here.
Roger, everybody else in the conservative blogosphere seems to be leading tours and organizing cruises.
If you and Sheryl organized a tour of Italy….well it wouldn’t be a vacation for you, would it.
OTOH it would give some of your long-time readers the chance to meet you and thank you for your voice of sanity.
Ciao!
Roger:Generalizations re: countries/kultures/societies’ civil discourses,etc. are thin-ice – clear across BUT!the rhythms of Paris which are so very recognizable in this report do not surprise me…les grenouilles are terrific promoters and their level of applying all things with a patina of hoi aristoi is thinnly disguised as sophisticated “frenchi-ness”but, it is a clear bit o’ fraud and a bit of a pose not to point it out…so I will. The French are very competent but, defensively lazy in their day-to-day, hence all things that work but are not French are…”Anglo-Saxon”. They make an art of defining themselves by being in opposition to all things not french…weird and puerile, really. I am delighted you are in Italy- many,many things do not go right in Italy- but, the best food, incredible style/ tailoring/terrific wines ( etc.etc.etc.) AND , decidely pas de francais, the heavenly gift to laugh at oneself.Italy is simply marvelously frustrating- but, always with “elan” and a world class “joie de vivre”…LOL! Safe home to the familgliaSimon
Roger: Don’t just settle for a glass of prosecco — make it Cartizze (the best from Valdobiaddene)! Also, what about the polenta and bacala or risi e bisi or pasta e fagioli? So many choices, so little time! I’m going to sign off now and watch David Lean’s “Summertime” — sigh.
Hmmm… PJ media cruises.
Just go on Doc Hanson’s cruises…
Earlier this years I took a week and went to Prague, one of the last cities left in Europe I really wanted to see. All I can say is that Prague is the most charming city I have ever seen, and in general I do not like metropolitan areas and would never have expected to apply the term “charming” to one.
I strongly recommend at some time visiting that part of Europe that shook off Communist shackles within living memory, and appreciate the fresh start they have made. Not to get all Rumsfeldian here, but “Old Europe” is morally and culturally bankrupt and soon will have nothing left to offer save a jaded weary resignation.
Roger, I have taken the TGV to Bordeaux after a flight to Paris but cannot imagine why you didn’t just change planes and go on to Venice. That seems to be a bit of self flagellation. I will warn you not to take the night train from Venice to Nice. That is a torture machine. However, you made it and Venice is worth it. I do prefer May or October but anytime is good in Venice.
Could have warned you about the train having made the same trip a couple of years ago. But there aren’t many experiences like arriving at the train station in Venice and walking out onto the Grand Canal. Venice may be an anacronism but it sure is a pretty one.
“Arriving at the train station in Venice and walking out onto the Grand Canal,” sipping a Bellini while ordering a delectable meal — and looking out onto the Grand Canal, gliding in a gondola underneath the Bridge of Sighs (the best “digestivo” in town), walking through the Napoleon wing of the colonnade into the beauty of Saint Mark’s Square, admiring Titian’s “Assumption” at the Frari Church and viewing the ceiling on the second floor of the Scuola di San Rocco (Venice’s version of the Sistine Chapel) are all guaranteed to take your breath away!