En Reconnaissance de Paris: Tales of an Italia Spring Break, Part III: GamGam, Glassware, and Gondolas

Allora... Part III!

Wednesday, April 20 - Thursday, April 21 : Venice

Our train from Florence got in to Mestre station around noon, so we hurriedly check into our hostel and made our way to the actual island of Venice. Gina and Abbey went to meet Christy, who came in on a later train, and then to find Gina's friend who is studying in Venice. Brian and I decided instead to head over to the Jewish Ghetto.

After getting a little bit lost, we finally found the area we were looking for. Of course, none of the museums were open since it was Passover, but it was still so interesting to see this tiny area in an already small city devoted to Judaism. I snapped some pictures of the synagogue and the Yeshiva (one of the only buildings in the area that seemed full of life during this holiday time). Interestingly, I tried to take a picture of the old barbed wire fence that still remains in one part of the original ghetto, and some security guards intervened.

We had been told that if we were to go to the Jewish Ghetto in Venice, we had to go to the restaurant GamGam and taste their Matzoh Ball soup. What with Brian's cold and my inability to refuse such a thing, we decided it would be worth our while to see if this place was open. So, after some hunting, we were able to find GamGam... and lo and behold... it was open!

Seeing that it was packed with people, we walked right in... only to realize too-late that these were not customers from the ordinary public but a group of Hasidic Jews-- payot, tzitzis, sheitel, and all! Immediately recognizing our mistake, we tried to back out without attracting too much attention, but it was too late. We felt as though we had entered a Woody Allen movie. All eyes in the room turned to us, and I'm certain you could hear a pin drop in this utterly Chametz-less room. It was in that moment that a Hassid in the center of the room stood up and asked, "you are Jewish?"

Brian knew the only way to save ourselves was to deny our religion and make a run for it, but something in the back of my throat and in the pit of my stomach would simply not let that kind of a lie slip out. So, yes, I admitted we were Jewish, upon which point the room seemed to come back to life. One boy, clearly a member of Yeshiva and trying to get in his mitzvah for the day, walked up to us and insisted that we stay, for they were about to have their Kiddush. It would only take a few minutes, and the kosher for Passover food and wine would of course be free. Now, I know it is a sin to walk away from this kind of thing, but we had less than one full day in Venice, and I have taken enough psychology classes to know a foot-in-the-door tactic when I see one.

At this point, it was time to ask ourselves: what would Larry David do? The answer was probably something along the lines of: awkwardly and obviously flooded with guilt, turn down the invitation, take five tries to get the door open to leave, get chased down the street by one of the Hassids, and be forced to refuse the offer fifteen more times... before finally being free to sit down at a good old-fashioned Italian restaurant to eat a plate of spaghetti bolognese... which, when sprinkled with guilt, simply would not end up tasting as good as it should.

And, yes, that is what happened. At least now I have something to think about the next time I'm sitting in temple all day for Yom Kippur.

So after our lunch, we went for a long stroll, exploring the streets and wandering into shops. The city of Venice is simply so unique, and it was a marvel to finally be able to see it with our own eyes. We had an especially great time looking at all of the Murano glass. I bought myself two beautiful and very different necklaces, and Brian picked out a few really nice gifts for his family members.

After about an hour or two, we decided it was time to take our gondola ride. This was not something I cared so much about, but Brian really wanted to do it. It wasn't a terribly busy hour for the gondoliers, so we were offered a reasonable price and took it. I'm glad that Brian convinced me because the ride was well worth it. The relaxing sound of the water as we peacefully navigated our way from one waterway to the next was just perfect. Plus, our gondolier pointed out some very interesting landmarks: the homes of Cassanova, Marco Polo, and Vivaldi, as well as the modern art museum. I think, though, that the best part of the ride was simply the perspective we had of the city. Although we walked around plenty, it wasn't until we were physically in this boat that we got to see those streets that cannot be reached by foot at all. We saw the doors to peoples homes, completely inaccessible without the use of a boat. I can only imagine living my life this way.

Following our pleasant gondola ride, we explored the streets some more and made our way to Piazza San Marco. The square was teeming with people, but it was pretty to see nonetheless. We took a few pictures of the Campanile of St. Mark's church, and sat down at a café for a few minutes (until we realized there would be a twelve euro charge "for the music"), and went off to find someplace to eat dinner.

We picked a place called Falciani, where I had more spaghetti (stop judging me!) and Brian had gnocchi with crab and shrimp. By the end of our meal, we were fully satisfied, but really worn out from the day of walking around, sitting in the sun, and getting chased by Hassidim.

With that, we got back on the shuttle boat, saw some final pretty views of the city at night, got ourselves momentarily stranded (thanks to the horrible guidance of the front-desk woman at our hostel), used our wits to find our way back... and finally fell into bed.

Brian left in the early morning to meet his friends, with whom he would be continuing on to Greece for the rest of his break. Abbey, Gina, Christy, and I, however, had a different stop up next on our agenda. We got on our train Thursday morning and headed out...

Next stop: Roma!