Travelogue, Day Two: Serenity, Venezia, and Dining Issues

First off, I’d like to say that it’s one thing looking at cruise ships on a computer screen, and another thing entirely to be standing next to one. Good god, these things are MASSIVE. It’s sort of vulgar, when I really stop and thinking about it, but I’m still a little too busy being impressed by the sheer grandeur of the Crystal Serenity. It could easily fit ten iterations of my apartment building and still have room left over.

Okay, starting off at the beginning, as it were. The flight into Rome was uneventful, although I managed to catch all of two hour sleep. Nor can I say much about the flight from Rome to Venice, except that the customs line in Rome was just unreasonably long. I was a little caught between being the asshole American tourist and just speaking in English, or embarrassing myself with my stuttering Italian. I managed a “Buon giorno. Parla inglese?” here and there, but that was about the extent of it. There was an issue transferring from the Venice airport to the ship, where apparently I wasn’t listed as having a transport in despite having air arranged by Crystal Cruises. So they’re currently zero for two in the air department, because they’d fucked up earlier in putting me on the September 1st flight, as opposed to the September 11th. Oh! Annnnd something apparently happened to one of my checked bags, because it came back to me split open and covered in white tape. My guess is that customs had to open to it check it for contraband (does thirty pounds of Pat Neal’s autobiography count?), and then couldn’t figure out how to close it up again, so they just taped the whole thing up and threw it on its way. I’m astounded the thing lasted the trip, and it’s pretty fortunate that the only things in there that were mine were a pair of shoes.

My first impression of the Venice countryside was that (brace yourselves) it reminded me a great deal of Northern Virginia. Before any of you start howling at me, I’d like to note here that the route I took had very little in the way of housing, consisting mostly of isolated groves and fields of wheat or corn. That’s basically all you’ll find in large swathes of NoVA. Add to that Ace of Base’s “Cruel Summer” coming on over the radio as we drove, and the entire scene could have been transplanted a few miles outside Fredericksburg with nobody the wiser.

The cruise terminal – the Marittima Stazione – docked several large cruise ships, including one from Princess Cruises as well as the Rotterdam (or something like that) from Norwegian cruise line. As I already said, it was a fairly impressive sight coming in by car. I shuttled myself over to the cruise terminal, grabbed my check-in number, and promptly saw the Theatre at Sea cast sitting in a series of plastic chairs over by the window. Everyone was already here, of course, and although I’d met Lee Roy, Betsy, Richard, and Susan a few times, I’d never actually spoken to Brian Bedford, Donna McKechnie, Lucie Arnaz, Laurence Luckinbill, or Patricia Neal. Well, first impressions were decent, I guess – I didn’t spaz out and faint, but I was a bit nervous about how I was going to manage all these actors for the duration of the cruise without looking like a complete dunce.

I ended up settling for getting them cookies from the refreshments table. Hey, it works.

Anyway, check-in went smoothly, although they took my passport upon my boarding the ship and traded it to me for a little stateroom card with another of those perennially terrible ID photos. I can’t say I was altogether pleased by this, because the thought of someone manhandling my brand new passport was, at a word, irksome. (Unhand my passport, brigand!) Ah well.

My first impression of the Crystal Serenity’s interior – in this case the atrium – was nothing less than spectacular. Polished marble floors in the atrium, coupled with a truly lovely statue, and a stained glass ceiling give the entire place a thoroughly elegant look. I finally checked in my book bag, since the D&D books were getting awfully heavy, and went into the Crystal Dining Room for some lunch with Philip and Marilyn. That was another amazing affair – it’s a little late and I can’t quite summon the words to describe it, but the dining room is about as upscale as you can get, the sort of place where you feel obligated to wear a suit and tie, wonder about the etiquette of using the utensils, and expect a three digit check at the end. But for the purposes of this trip…IT’S ALL FREE! Please excuse me while I go do a goofy dance.

I had some chilled fruit and some salmon for lunch, both of which were excellent. Although, there was a small yellow berry on the chilled fruit that I suspect might have been a dressing, rather than something actually meant to be eaten. It had a very bizarre, woody sort of taste to it, not altogether unpleasant, but I’m not certain altogether palatable either. The salmon was delicious, but small…really small. It came on a plate the size of a truck tire, which is a concept that has always kind of baffled me, and looked a bit like a little floral arrangement with its various veggie dressings. It was certainly a few orders of magnitude better than the pieces of shoe leather they tend to serve at Columbus deli, in any case, but I felt like I could have done with a more substantial lunch.

After lunch, I finally made it to my stateroom, which is another beautiful monstrosity, hold the monstrosity. It’s basically a small hotel room with a truly ginormous bed – I mean, seriously, the thing can probably hold four people or one really, really fat man – and a little sitting area past the bed. I found myself thinking that I could probably live fairly comfortably in a room like this, even if it is a shade smaller than my bedroom back at the Heights.

Ron gave me a call after I’d finished settling in, letting me know that he and Norm were heading into Venice, and that since this was my first time abroad, they were happy to lead me around the place a bit. I took the offer and, after the administrative shuffle, we found ourselves making our way toward the pier. The sky had turned a very ugly shade of gray-green at this point, the air becoming thick and heavy, and amidst the wrangling of trying to figure out where our shuttle boat was docked we were hit by a torrential downpour. It lasted all of five minutes, and while the three of us took dubious shelter underneath some canopies the shuttle boat arrived. Then we were on our way.

The shuttle boat was almost empty, most people having more intelligence or more sanity than us, and it took us in around the southern edge of San Marco toward the Grand Canal. I really don’t have any comparative words for my first impression of Venice from afar, save maybe that strange bittersweet-sour mix of excitement, anxiety, and anticipation I always get when heading into a new place. Venice definitely has a weighty feel, that press of ages you’ll be hard to find, but the sensation was marred somewhat by the proliferation of cranes and scaffolding that I could see even from twenty minutes away. A necessary evil, I suppose, given the number of ancient monuments in the city in constant need of reconstruction or renewal.

The shuttle boat docked just a short distance from the Piazza San Marco, and as we walked Norm and Ron divulged their collective (and very expansive) knowledge about the city, explaining in great detail where we were going and where I should consider going tomorrow before the party at the Fenice Theatre. We paused in the Piazza San Marco so that I could take some pictures, avoiding the pigeons massed like rats in the middle of the square, before venturing deeper into the city.

I’m not sure I want to go into a blow-by-blow about the individual sights we saw, although it’s probably worth mentioning that I fell in instant love with the Venetian masks. It seemed like there was a mask shop on every corner, its walls covered in these glittering, shining, intricate little constructions. There were masks with crazed wings of gold filigree, masks surrounded by a halo of burning golden feathers, masks painted with flowing streams of musical notation, masks with pointed chins and devilish noses. It’s hard to do them justice with words, to describe the sheer variety and awesomely detailed construction of these masks. Like the interiors of numerous cathedrals I saw in the city, some of these masks were just too complex to be believed – I remember one in particular featured a sort of floral pattern that expanded in waves above the eye holes, spreading out fully three or four feet in diameter as it melded seamlessly with the life-sized face underneath. It was simply an amazing piece of craftsmanship. I wish I could’ve taken a picture of it, or better yet, had the money to buy it. I actually don’t even know how much it cost, but with even the more modest masks weighing in at sixty Euros or more, that one was definitely well out of my budget range. Well, who knows, maybe I’ll come back to Venice one day when I’m oozing money from every pore and buy out the store.

The masks, however, weren’t the only thing that made an impression as I walked through Venice. The place has a definite air, an indescribable feeling I can only describe as Venetian, with its cobblestone streets, narrow alleyways, and high walls. The city is internationally defined by its canals, and they’re certainly integral to the sensation of being in Venice, but in my estimate the city is a great deal more than just the waterways. On a random note, I apparently got fairly lucky, because the sudden downpour cleared out most of the big crowds in the more popular tourist areas and I was able to sample the Rialto without having to force my way through a jumble of people. The view of the Grand Canal across the Rialto is, according to Norm, sort of an essential Venice. I wonder if I can overuse the word “spectacular” in one blog.

Oh, we also went to see a church, which followed suit in the intricately detailed artwork with some truly lovely shrines. Unfortunately, they didn’t allow any photography inside, so I had to make do with some rather crappy sneak peeks from outside the door.

I’m not sure there’s much else to say about my first day in Venice. I did a bit of work after coming back in and met a few more of the Theatre at Sea group as we were heading into dinner. Again, the food was excellent, although they’re still doing the artistic thing where the plate pretty much dwarfs anything it happens to be holding. Jon’s statement, “It’s like fucking a hula-hoop with a needle” comes to mind. This being our first night on the ship, dining utilized open seating. There were a few grumbles about that – particularly among the actors, actually, since they didn’t really want to be separated from each other. I spoke to Leo, the Maitre D’ of the Crystal Dining room, and I understand we have our own Theatre at Sea section, so I’m hoping this will all sort itself out tomorrow.

I didn’t have a chance to withdraw any money or buy anything while I was in Venice, but we’re docked here one more day before we head off toward Dubrovnik. Tomorrow’s the tour and reception at the Fenice Theatre, so I’m thinking that I’ll pop into one of the mask stores and pick something up before meeting Philip and Marilyn and the rest of the Theatre at Sea group.

Man, this has been a huge entry. I think I’m going to cut it short here and go to sleep. In my huge, semi-orgy sized bed with its four dramatically soft pillows. It’s like sleeping on marshmallows!