10/03  Venice, Italy

03 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

10/03 Venice, Italy

Took a morning boat to Giudecca to visit a glass shop and took advantage of the weather and the sand.  The hostel I went to check out was over crowded with mostly children running about, so spent the remains of the day back on the main island.  Before dark I had gathered up my things and boarded a train towards Padova.  Across from me sat a beautiful young lady with a twinkle in her eye and I caught a smile or two.  Sex was in the air so I broke the ice. “Will you have lunch with me?” I asked.  She explained that she was on her way to meet a friend and that the two of them had a law exam in two days and were going to do some studying.  She leaned toward me, planted a kiss and handed me an address.  She explained that the address was her sister’s place and she would be there in a few days and would look forward to get acquainted.  This had all the trimmings of a date to look forward to.

When I reached Padova I headed straight to the hostel to ensure I had myself a bed for the night.  I had been given some bad directions and ended up in front of a church instead.  The church was covered in a cloud of depression.  Everyone coming or going was dressed in black.  There was not a smile to be found and I cannot recall if anybody even looked me directly in the eyes.  It was like they had just been, or expected to be, scolded.  There was a long line of people waiting for the opportunity to kiss a glass case which contained a body part of St. Antonis.  I could sure agree with those that might think such a practice as odd.  I stood over to the left and wondered why the human soul doesn’t get up off its knees and do what is right.  “My soul was like a leaf, wrapped up in the morning tide”  My view is that Gods prefers loving actions over prayer and ceremony so I brought a few beers and sat across in the park waiting for somebody in need.  It didn’t take long to locate a conversation and once they discovered that I did not speak Italian and was from the other side of the world they began treating me like a novelty.  “Do you know here he is from?”, “Say something”.  I made curfew but the jury was still out on if that was a good thing.  That place had the feel of an institution and the food solidified that conclusion.

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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