I had figured because of all the hype, that Carnevale was a crazy day of binge drinking like Mardi Gras and it would be super crowded and prime time for pick pockets but if in Italy during the festival, it was a must-go. Once on the bus, Sean, the trip organizer explained that while we would most definitely see intoxicated Italianos and tourists alike, the festival was not what most of us frat-tastic college-goers were accustomed to back at school. I was immediately more excited. Sean explained that he would be leading the group to Piazza St. Marco, the heart of Carnevale, but that we did not have to follow him if we for example, wanted to break off and head to the Jewish Quarter first. Elyssa and I really wanted to go to the Jewish Quarter, but twenty minutes into the walk with 45 more minutes to the Piazza, we saw how insanely crowded the streets were and decided to stick with Sean and go back to the Jewish Quarter after a few hours.
Our walk through the old city of Venice was an experience within itself. We passed over countless bridges overlooking gondola rowers in the black and white striped getups and wide-brimmed black hats I'd only seen in movies. The streets were even narrower than the streets in Florence and they were decorated overhead by strings of blue and gold Italian lights. We walked past old women dressed in elaborate floral-embroidered 17th century satin gowns and powdered wigs, new families dressed head to toe as bears and their cubs or lions and their kittens, and groups of drunk men donning priests' collars. Every so often, the crowded street would clog to take pictures of or merely appreciate especially creative, beautifully costumed troops. We came across four boldly-colored cat people in blue, red, yellow, and black feathery full-body robes and spooky cat masks shaped into pompous facial expressions. When they started to walk away, I didn't realize my shoe was on one of their feathers and I swear, I almost got clawed. Anyone who wasn't decked out in costume was wearing a beautiful mask or vibrant face paint. I bought a light blue mask embellished with dark blue and gold glitter. Soon after making our purchases, Lauren was quick to spot a group of Italianos who couldn't have been far from our age dressed as flamingoes and teletubbies. We excitedly asked if we could take a picture with them. They were either pretending not to understand anything we said for their own entertainment or truly didn't understand English. Either way, in the midst of trying to convey that we wanted them to be in a picture with us, not for them to take a picture of us, one of the flamingoes repeatedly pecked my head with the fuzzy beak that protruded from his forehead. I giggled, but by the tenth peck, I turned around and almost said, "Dye Maspeek!" but remembered that I wasn't in Israel. We took the picture and the flamingo immediately grabbed me and pecked me with his other pecker for just a few moments passed silly. I pulled away and my friends and I were hysterical! The raggazi were harmless and kept walking, but we made sure to wait for them to get ahead before we headed in the exact same direction.
We were in Venice for a few hours before reaching Piazza St. Marco. When we finally entered the square, I didn't know where to look first. The square is a huge open space that opens up to the water. The buildings bordering the square reminded me of the Vatican with their Romanesque arches and a layout that affords the Cathedral the most attention. Everywhere I shifted my eyes, a group of self-proclaimed photographers oodled over one costume or another. One man dressed as Noah and walked around the festival wearing a canoe-sized arc around his waist. Little girls and their puppies wore matching colonial dresses with fancy feathered hats. Tobacco-breathing elderly women in wigs and metallic, layered gowns were escorted by their courtly husbands toting matching, paisley-patterned tuxedos, ruffly waistcoats, and three-cornered hats. Have I mentioned yet that all four of us carried around our own bottles of wine all day? Taking swigs when we so desired, we blended in to the spirit of the festival perfectly. One of my proudest moments in Italy so far was definitely when my roomies and I were posing for a picture for one of our own cameras when all of a sudden we attracted a crowd of picture snapping onlookers! We could have posed for an hour straight; we were all so proud! As the sun set, we walked and gulped our way through the flow of the bustling crowd and even as chilly turned to cold, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.
I've never seen so many happy, strange-looking, beautiful people in one place at the same time. I was standing in the middle a mass of people in the most extravagant costumes I've ever seen, a parade of giant, glowing mechanic creepy crawlers slugging their way through the audience, and decorations that must have taken months to prepare, and yet, there was a simplicity in the crowd. For one of the first times in Italy, I felt only love coming from the locals around me. Strangers just appreciated each other's costumes, their smiles, their presence.
When we left Piazza St. Marco, the sun had completely set and the Italian lights and storefront displays were even more charming and romantic than they had been in the light of day. We still had a few hours before departure from the buzzing city of water and we were all on a mission to find sweets. We strolled over bridges, through more narrow pathways, and passed stands full of more stunning masks. Now far from the Piazza St. Marco, we arrived at the candy stand we had passed on our way into the city in the beginning of the day. A male dance instructor and his female associate led cheerful families in Italian folk dancing. We obviously had to join in. Ashley, one of the Barcelona visitors, and I were dance partners and we couldn't stop giggling the entire time, messing up almost every step, then thinking we had the steps down, and then clapping at the wrong time and bursting into giggles again. It was so fun! We stuck with the dancing the longest of any of our friends, but then decided it was time to give up on and indulge in something sweet. I got a white chocolate-covered banana on a skewer. I don't even like bananas, but the 45 seconds I took to devour the sweet treat added to a whole day of perfect moments.
After more than our share of sugar, we were back to our search for the train station where we would meet Sean before walking to the buses with the group. We found the station easily, window-shopped more patisserie, tried some of Venice's hot spiced wine (which I wish my family could taste because they would label it a "Bets food" right away), did the macarena with a crowd of masked and costumed travelers, and sat on the steps by the water, reflecting on the perfect day.
Elyssa and I never made it to the Jewish Quarter, but I have no regrets about my Carnevale Venezia adventure. I loved Venice so much that I know I will be back at some point in my life, and then I will go to the Jewish Quarter. Venice was only our second trip out of Florence (the first was a visit to both Pisa and Lucca). I can't wait to see what's next. Ciao!
Sounds so amazing! Is Sean the same as "Sean from EuroAdventures" who led my trip to Corfu? If so, then he's awesome and ridiculous. Either way - this sounds magical. I wish I had made it to Venice. We'll have to do a sisters trip!
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