Italy Day 5 - "The Tattoos"

My favorite day of our trip was the day we spent in Venezia. This city is so beautiful in a strange, old, watery way... everywhere you look is a postcard (as you will see from the hundreds of photos I took.)

Before the photo taking extravaganza could begin, we gathered our thoughts in the a.m. and I pretended to understand the map.


This was the view from our hotel room.


That day, Kerri and I were matching/opposite, which would later prove to be foreshadowing our events of the day.


We headed out for breakfast across the big river of Venezia (the name of which escapes me at the moment) via a walk and gondola ride and more walking.














This guy was NOT amused my my photo-taking, even though I was really trying to get a picture of the architecture behind him. If I was a gondola driver I'd be surly too.





There was much window-shopping to be had on the way.








I forgot to get a picture of our breakfast, a steal for 5 Euro and included unlimited orange juice, cereal, milk, coffee, and a wide assortment of fresh breads with Nutella, jam and butter. Mmmm, it was GOOD. Anyway, afterward we stopped by a convenience store and I was charmed by the Italians, as usual.


We headed back out, and from there it was really just walking around Venice. I'll let you look at as many or as few photos as you want, but I'm putting up almost all of mine from this day because I was so in love with the city: the architecture, the color, the people, the canals, the bridges, the shops, the food...








It's me!














We would walk through the piazze and hear beautiful music coming from we know not where; sometimes opera, sometimes an acoustic guitar, and sometimes, as in this case, we heard orchestras. This turned out to be coming from the Vivaldi museum, which was free and filled with beautiful music and old, old stringed instruments.





Imagine, instead of crossing the street, you cross a bridge.














Gasp. God it was all so gorgeous.


The biggest "tourist destination" in Venezia is, well, Venezia itself. You just walk around and look at stuff and gasp with awe every thirty seconds. Other than that, the other thing to see is this church and its piazza with a bunch of pigeons. You may remember it from that jewelry commercial where the guy shouts, "I LOVE THIS WOMAN!!!!" and all the birds scatter... then he gives her some fancy necklace and she whispers, "I love this man."

So Kerri and I, with no one to declare our love for, just scared the pigeons for the heck of it.








It was pretty amusing. Shannon got in on the fun.


Kerri & Shannon have a tradition wherein, in any city they travel to they take a "jumping with glee" photo.


This was the church that goes with the pigeon piazza.


And here's the inside. There were a lot of field-tripping teenagers there too.


We continued walking around after that. This was my favorite canal/bridge area that we saw.











Couldn't resist this shot - a Snow White boat!


























It's hard to convey how freaking narrow every alleyway is. Umbrellas do the trick.


Venezia is known for its blown glass. I watched this man do his thang for a bit. Such an attention to detail, such delicate hands. He kind of looked like Stanley Tucci.








For lunch we stopped at a pizzeria, as usual. A hundred teenagers stopped in as well.























Kerri and I had decided earlier in the week that we wanted to get tattoos. A guy we met the night before at Vino Vino told us that there was a respectable place (well, it's the only tattoo place in Venezia, it better be respectable) "near the casino." So towards the end of the day we tried to find the casino. We started to feel rushed, which was terrible because that's when the sun started to come out and the light got really good.














Shannon and Jennifer, suddenly it seemed, became peeved with me and Kerri because we were not helping to navigate. I guess we were both just taking photos all over the place. Jennifer and Shannon figured, Hey, they're the ones who want these tattoos, they should find the place themselves. So they gave us the map and said "Have at it." Unfortunately, there's a reason we had not done any navigating. I don't know about Kerri, but I, for one, have a notoriously bad sense of direction.

Whatev's, we found the place. SO.... the tattoo. We wanted something meaningful to us, meaningful to this trip, and, most importantly, something that we were confident we would not regret. I've wanted a tattoo on my wrist for the longest time (since before my first tattoo) and I had the idea of "amici" which is Italian for friends. Then I thought "amiche" which is more specifically girlfriends. I was afraid it was too corny, so I consulted my ultimate cheese-tester, Jennifer. I knew I could rely on her (and her rolling eyes) if it was too corny. She said, "Nah, not too corny. But what about 'amicizia?' That means friendship." I loved that, and so did Kerri. She wanted hers on the inside of her wrist, so I thought what the hell.

We almost ended up not getting these things. At first, Kerri freaked out over the cost "for just one word!" (which is actually nothing considering it's the best and most lasting souvenir you can possibly buy) and I spent half an hour convincing her of the once-in-a-lifetime awesomeness of this tattoo. Finally she agreed, and as we walked back to the parlor, I said meekly after a few moments of silence, "Um... I don't think I want to get mine." Ha ha ha... I just had cold feet, but I got over it.

Here's one of the last few moments of our naked wrists.


Although we were getting the same word, we decided on different fonts. Kerri got a script and I chose a typewriter font ('cause... well, you know me). Kerri wanted me to go first, so I sat down with the wonderful Davide and showed him exactly what I wanted.


I had no real fears about the pain or anything, and the place was clean and as nice of a tattoo parlor as any I've been in. But when you get a tattoo, the artist has to shave the area first, and when Davide came at me with a razor blade and jumped "Boo!" at my wrist with it, I freaked out and started crying. What a baby.

Anyway, I was okay. In the first few moments of the needle scraping my wrist, I could not even look at what he was doing.


Luckily I had Kerri there to hold my hand and distract me while Davide worked. Now I can officially say she's held my hand for every tattoo I've gotten.

Afterward, I felt a rush like no other. Sure, it hurts, but it's an exhilarating feeling. It was the longest and coolest five minutes of my life. I think I became even more translucently pale with all that hyperventilating I was doing.


Then Kerri started freaking out. I held her hand and she bit it in fear and anticipation while I was saying, "You're gonna be fine! It's mind over matter! Your mind is stronger than your body!!"


As Davide began, I saw a look in her eyes like none I've ever seen. Her eyelids started flapping up and down furiously and she tried to make herself breathe normally. I just kept thinking, "I hope she doesn't pass out. Then it'll be uneven."


So I kept talkin'.





In the end, I think she was pretty exhilarated too.


Thanks Davide e Michela! (that's his wife/assistant/generally awesome chick.)


Though Shannon chose not to get a tat (she's afraid she'll get sick of it in about 2 weeks), we drew a reasonable facsimile on her wrist and she also rejoiced.





I felt like a psych patient walking around with a bandage on my wrist.


At a pub later, we tried to toast the day's events. "Hi-five!" I said. "Cin-cin!" Shannon said.


"Oh, cin-cin!" I said. "Hi-five!" said Shannon.


After about six hours Kerri and I were allowed to take off our psych-ward bandages and reveal the beautiful permanence beneath.


And share with Shannon. We're like a puzzle that fits.


After that, I bet you can guess what we did. Walked around and window-shopped. I will admit, we had the one not-fantastic dinner of our whole trip here in Venezia. Ergo, no photo. You get tulips instead.








For some reason, we were all really amused by this all-purpose vending machine. You would not believe the things you can get on a street in Venice.


Alright, I'm well aware this falls under the category of "you had to be there," but this sample photo on a photo booth in the train station cracked us up. Mostly because when I saw it, I did what I thought was an impression of this chick, a goofy voice that went, "I said, 'huuuhhh?'" à la Alan O'Day's "Undercover Angel." I know, I know, it's probably not funny to anybody but us, but we seriously laughed uncontrollably for about fifteen minutes beside this photo booth, all four of us on our knees and slapping our hands against her picture with the crazy laughter that comes only from the exhaustion of walking around for four days with backpacks.


We splurged on a sleeper car for the overnight train to Roma, because we figured it was like paying for a hotel and train ticket in one. Since there were four of us, we had one all to ourselves. It was so fun! Except the sleeping part. That kinda sucked.

They give you these cool disposable slippers.


And water! And blankets! And pillows! And trays for your personal items!


"I said, 'huuuhh??' "


Exhausted delirium.


Exhausted.


Goodnight!


Next time: Roma!

love,
*jenna*