Our last day. We checked out of our lovely hostel and bid farewell to the Ponte di Rialto. Took a metro boat back to the train station to store our luggage. Our flight wasn't until 20H, so we had a lot of time still in Venice. We inquired about how to get to the Marco Polo airport since we had no clue. The only thing about buying cheap tickets like Ryan Air is that they fly to smaller airports that are more complicated to get to. We found that there are buses from Venice that go there so we got tickets to that. Again, nothing was set or planned in advance, we just rolled with it.
Walked around aimlessly until we got hungry for lunch. Sat down at an outdoor restaurant in front of the church of Santa Lucia--Lucia got a kick out of that. For 15 euros, we got a pasta, and entree, and either dessert or coffee. I got lasagne, roasted chicken and fries, and coffee. It was pretty tasty, the portions small but filling. Tried to go inside the church but it was closer. Bummer. In the building adjacent there were old chairs and other furniture set up in front of a door. Keisha said that it looked like a church yard sale, and she was right. We entered a musty room filled with clothes, books, purses, and all the regular stuff you see at yard sales. It was pretty sweet. Both Keisha and I love this stuff. I remember going around to garage sales with my Dad and brother. Sometimes, this is just too hilarious, Dad would just talk to the guy holding the garage sale forever. Just his thoughts concerning some old lawnmower on sale or whatever. Dad loves to talk, it's too funny.
I found a silk-like Paris scarf that I really liked. I'm wearing it right now as I type, actually. It's better made than the ones I've seen in Paris. Also found an old French book for children learning French. I was attracted to the old-timey drawings inside. The book has a stamp from the bookstore it was in. Some bookstore in Milano. There was also an old birthday card inside, probably to the owner of the book. And then, by the kitchenware, I saw the most beautiful cyan-colored dish. It just popped out to me. I weighed the pros and cons of getting said dish, but it was one of those treasures I could not walk away from. The photo features just the top.
I took the three items to the sweet old lady sitting by the door with a cashbox. She didn't speak any English, but made gestures with her fingers. "Three euros," she said in Italian, and put 3 fingers up. 1 euro each for everything I bought. I happily paid her, and she wrapped my dish in newspaper. Lucia and Keisha also got scarves, but the wool kind.
What an awesome find. I love doing local stuff. It was just like going to Seamus Ryan's in London or looking through that keyhole in Roma. We walked around some more and finally just stopped at a canal to people watch and write postcards. When we got tired of the scenery, we found another canal to people watch at. Had our last gelatos and then found a post office where we could mail our cards. It was finally time to catch our bus.
Boarded the bus, exhausted and happy. We didn't really have much to say to each other. We were deep in our own thoughts about this wonderful Italian journey. Finally felt at home, or at least in Parisian territory when we were told that our flight would be delayed. And instead of lining up like orderly, civilized people, all the French people just crowded around the gate pushing and shoving to get on the plane once it got here. It was insanity. We lucked out and got good seats in the front of the plane so we got to be the first people out of that bordel.
During the flight, we reminisced and thought about our next great, big adventure. Arrived at Beauvais where Adriano picked us up. Slept the hour drive into Paris. We were home.
