Only half the day under Damask cover on this Venetian Friday - brava!!! By 11:40am I'd dragged myself up, dressed, and determinedly went out for a last encounter with Venezia.
Wow - where'd the plethora of people come from?? By oh yes - today begins the holiday season of Easter than extends through Monday, a day they call Pasquetta. And by all counts, it's as big a day of family togetherness as Christmas.
Crowds and all, I enjoyed a roam around while Marty finished a morning of classes.
The two on the bridge were taking a picture while the figure on the other side-right was taking a picture while I was taking a picture. Hope we all said "cheese" at the right time!
You could literally snap a shoot with a bag over your head and voilà- it'd be gorgeous. Bella Venezia!
I indulged myself with one of the huge billowy puffs of merenge style sweet that must be a specialty here - ciccolatte, per favore. After all, they'd been whispering my name, those cloud shaped sirens, from every pastacerria we'd passed since arrival. I nibbled on the crumbly confection seated at the base of an ancient well as pigeons (& one lone seagull) scuttled up to this now interesting donna. They rather enjoyed the treat, too, and as we dined together I couldn't help but think how many others had found brief respite alongside this very well over untold centuries passed.
A quick pizza lunch, zip up the bags, bid farewells to out hosts, and andiamo to the vaporetto for a ride to the car rental building by the train station. What a lovely way to go versus our entry of dragging bags over never ending bridges!
Such an intersection of old and new!
Look, Ma - the ice cream boat!!
See the boat far - right? That's how ya transport il vino!
Rental car secured, we let Ms. GPS have her bossy but mostly appreciated way, and set course for Cividale, about an hour and 45 to the east- northeast. We waved ciao-ciao to the region of Veneto, and greeted a region new to our travels (Italy's furthest north) called Friuli-Guilia. Flat and agrarian, the ruins and current abodes gracing this land presented much more angular and practical than, say, those in Tuscany or Lazio. Mountains, the shared Italian and Austrian Alps began to come into hazy, cloud-laced view, deep gray and mysterious as almost if trying sneak from view.
Arriving in Cividale, the "Gee Toto, we're not in Toscana anymore!" feeling continued. Ancient yet almost pristine in restoration, cleanliness your Nonna would be proud of, and distinct architecture was more of Switzerland or Austria. But think again how close we are to both. And Slovenia is just 20 minutes down the road!
We met up with our sweet friend Stefania and breathed fresh mountain air while enjoying a passagiata before an aperativo of local white wine. Enjoy a few photos taken in low light -- but there's always tomorrow!