Where are we going? Who gives a reserved room away? Dang, that’s a lot of pigeons. Is this porter going to drop dead hauling our luggage over this bridge? Who knew all of Europe plays in Venice on the weekends (certainly not Barb the Travel Agent)?
These questions crashed in my head as we uneasily followed our decrepit porter with his back hunched, his seventieth birthday a distant memory, and his hat borrowed from an organ grinder monkey.
One hour earlier, we had arrived in Venice at 6pm on a Friday night to find our room released. Apparently, our paid reservation only guaranteed a two minute check-in window.
So I pulled out my smartphone, consulted TripAdvisor, and found the perfect room on the Grand Canal…not! This was 1995. Siri was a gleam in Steve Job’s eye. We were at the mercy of travel agents, language barriers, tour books, and weasely desk clerks.
Instead, I turned to the universal language that makes men quake: sobbing. In two shakes of a Parmesan canister, the porter grabbed our luggage and hobbled out the door. The clerk grinned smarmily, clapped his hands, and proclaimed, “We possesses just de place from you.”
Rule number one of international travel? Follow your effin’ luggage. So against all reason, we followed those bags over three bridges, into an alley, through a steel door, up two flights of steps to a triple locked apartment door. All I can say is that we were young, invincible, and had NO FREAKIN’ CELL PHONES.
Methuselah dropped our bags and shuffled out of our lives. The dust motes swirled manically in the fading sunlight as I dashed through the serial killer inspection checklist: under the bed, behind the shower curtain, in the closets. We were sharing the apartment with three eerily empty suitcases, but no discernible bloodstains. So I did what anyone would do: I called dibs on the shower.
My husband cried bullshit on the entire situation, put on his armor à la shining, and went to find us a new room armed only with his utter lack of Italian.
Once my gallant knight triple locked me in (I mean who else could possibly have keys?), I stripped down to wash the dust of a thousand civilizations from my being. Twilight fell as I lathered up…and the lights died as the water turned frigid. Then keys turning in the locks. Naked wet panic is a beast all its own transcending geography. This Psycho remake was almost complete.
Quaking with sudsy fear, armed AND covered with only a throw pillow, I felt my heart leap as the door burst open to reveal…my husband. Shining with pride. He found a room with this view for us.
Distant view of the Grand Canal was much better than hanging around to find skeletons stuffed in the air shaft
We hustled back to the cacasenno desk clerk where my Italian grew some coglioni and his understanding grew by leaps and bounds. Pocketing our refund, we bid him “Arrivederci!” smiling as the collective groan of a thousand serial killers echoed throughout the piazza.
Look at what pumpkins we were. Perfect serial killer bait.
-Ellen
Hilarious!
And I can relate, I used to go down to the area south of Venice a lot during the mid- to late 90s.
I think it was a prerequisite for porters to be like Renfield. That’s why I never stayed in a hotel in Venice 😉
Kerstin recently posted..Be
So where did you stay?? Is this a romantic story?? Ellen
My family has a house on a private island south of Venice (Isola di Albarella). We used to take the boat to Venice, but not stay over night.
I was there with a few different guys (not at the same time though ;)), so I guess kind of romantic…
Kerstin recently posted..Be
A house on a private island south of Venice?? I have to walk away from my computer now because I fear my drool will short out my keyboard.
Glad you kept it classy. 🙂 Ellen
I LOVE love love love Venice! Suddenly I’m glad we went in the middle of March (it was fairly cold but there was plenty of vacancy!). How could you have thought of a shower at a time like that, in a place like that?!?!?
Carinn @welcometothemotherhood recently posted..Taking Flight
We had been traveling all day and I was grimy! But the bigger question is WTH were we thinking even going up to that room. It got way sketchy by the time we hit the alley. The invincibility of youth. Makes me want to lock my kids in their rooms. Ellen
Oh, I just love this. Hilarious story, and you made that decrepit old apartment/hotel come alive for me! I actually sneezed when you described the dust motes!!
Mamarific recently posted..It is Well with My Soul
Thank you! They were swirling. I still can’t believe I even entered that apartment. Ellen
Awesome. I long to travel somewhere…one day… Italy looks gorgeous.
And I loved this piece. It was fantastically written!
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Thank you! Ellen
I love that you showered first, while your husband found a new hotel. And well done to escape the killer’s den!
Jester QUeen recently posted..Winning
It really is beyond belief. I’m glad we survived. 🙂 Ellen
During my 2 week girlfriend trip through Italy in college we stayed at some pretty interesting hotels. But the hotel in Venice had to be the worst. I have a picture of myself sitting on my twin bed with the mattress so saggy it literally hit the floor. I couldn’t even move the mattress to the floor because the room was the size of a closet. But who cares – because we were in Venice!!
Exactly Mary! At least you knew no psychos could hide under your bed. 😉 Ellen
Oh, you gals are funny!! Just found you over at Yeah Write and I can’t wait to read more! My husband and I have had such similar experiences in Europe, too. We can relate!!
Melisa @ just begin from here. recently posted..caution: insects in mouth are grosser than they appear.
Travel provides some of the best story fodder. Always glad to meet a new blogger! Ellen
His 70th birthday a distant memory. I love that. Funny and scary at the same time. I’d like to think my guy would do the same, but I think I need to face reality and say that he’d be the one in the shower while I did the footwork. Great travel story!
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It would have made more sense for me to go because I speak Italian and it didn’t make any sense for me to stay there by myself. But what can I say? Stupid youth. Ellen
Ah, life without cellphones, but with travel agents. I barely know it.
I loved the whole thing, but I think my favorite part is the title. 🙂
Jane recently posted..Underfoot
I think I would be paralyzed to travel without a cell now. Ours even worked in Costa Rica.
And what do travel agents do nowadays anyway?? We had to get old Barb involved because some of the hotels (like the one in Venice!) couldn’t understand us to take our reservations.
This, this…In two shakes of a Parmesan canister…made me laugh! I loved that line, this post. And, in the words of Liz Lemon, I want to go to there!
heidi recently posted..the worst job ever
Thank you, Heidi! Erin loved that line too. And we both adore Liz Lemon. 🙂 Ellen
quite an adventure….not sure I would have showered in the triple locked digs.
Robbie recently posted..Measuring a Marriage
The me of today would not have jumped in that shower either. 🙂 Ellen
Love the way you wrote this. So many absolutely perfect lines here! Love Venice but wow is it tricky. And totally admire you for showering there!
Tricia recently posted..The fear
Thank you! Not sure my stupidity deserves much admiration. lol Ellen
I loved your description of Methuselah. It’s amazing how stupid we are when we’re young. When we were dating, my husband took an 18 hour trip on a Greyhound bus. The shadiest characters in the world travel by Greyhound. It was super creepy. I will never do that again.
Erin @Momfog recently posted..These Moments
Pretty much the only thing worse than the buses (wow, 18 hours) are the stations, right? 😉 Ellen
Your various descriptions of the porter made me laugh out loud. I’m proud of you guys for getting a better room. I would have just stayed and been murdered, I guess.
My stay in Venice was in 2004, but still without cell phones or Italian proficiency. I remember the smell being quite unpleasant because it hadn’t rained and the sea level was exposing parts of the canal that were best left underwater. I have 100 pictures of tall buildings with water in between them.
Liz @ShiftlessMommie recently posted..I shot my own turkey.
So I conveyed that he was old? 😉 He was proud too. He would NOT let us carry our own bags. I think he threatened our first born if we touched them. We finally backed off, but I was stewing in guilt until he led us down that alley and I thought, darn, he is a cog in an evil plot.
At least we had high tide. We’ll always have that. Ellen
Our hotel was right on the Grand Canal next to the Rialto bridge, but our room was in the back. It was Kellie’s birthday, so we upgraded to a room with a view. $$$ Ouch $$$.
Joe (from Kellie’s World) recently posted..Downhill
Oh we were not quite that fancy back then, but the hotel we were booked in was very nice, if you actually were granted a room.
We do have fond memories of the Rialto. We had a lovely dinner at a cafe at the base of the it. Good times.
Ellen
Hmmm… so this would not garner a five-star response on Travelocity, huh? Very funny post — I enjoyed it immensely!
IASoupMama recently posted..Just for Once
If only Travelocity existed back then. 🙂 Ellen
Sweet, funny, well done and I love the plot movement created by lack of technology. If this had happened in our time, everyone wlould have stood around staring at little screens and you would have had no (or less) story.
Louise Ducote recently posted..Let Go of My Hair
Thank you for your kind words. Like you, Erin remarked that the movement of the story was created by the lack of technology. We can never go back can we? I would be in a panic if I was stranded traveling today without my phone. Although, I would have had no problem withe the 500 word limit with my smartphone in play. The story just would have been inconsequential. 🙂 Ellen
I adore Venice and enjoyed reading about your adventure. I love the serial killer and shower scene descriptions! Funny! I also loved that your husband saved the day. Give the guy a hug. And some soap.
Mary @ A Teachable Mom recently posted..Anger Looks Good On Me
I have a hard time showering when I’m alone in my *own* house, much less alone in a strange apartment. You have – wait, what’s the word for balls in Italian? Because I was about to write “calzones” and I know that’s not right. Hmm. Well, you had whatever it is that’s not a folded-over pizza object. And the two of you in that photo are adorable. Ah youth. So there you go, “you’ll always have Venice….”
deborah l quinn recently posted..Listicles: Ten Questions
And we’ll always have that we made it out! I like calzones better than coglioni. Ellen
I have been to Venice a few times and I love it, but I also have had a pretty similar experience. We ended up at an ancient pensione where the owner had 1 billion cats and they slept all over your bed. Which meant that I was in heaven and my friend was in itching, allergic hell.
Bridgette recently posted..I wish that I could accurately write an evil laugh.
Oh I just loved this. (-:
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