Greetings from the West Coast!
A long day of travel is finally done. I was shocked by how flat the area around the Denver airport was, but it got me through. Flights were long and filled with lots of screaming kids. Woot!
I’m here and getting unpacked. Life is good. Until I send you more details.
Wow, what a weird mix of emotions. I’ve been enjoying this last weekend in Bethesda immensely and I’m sitting in my room looking at my two packed bags, ready for the next phase of my adventures to begin.
It’s been a weird week of nostalgia and meeting up with friends. I’ve found the occasion to go by my elementary school, middle school and high school over the week. I’ve seen how they’ve stayed the same, but also changed in the time since I’ve passed through the halls. Wood Acres Elementary School was most recently renovated in 2002 and looks nothing like the school I graduated from more than 12 years ago, but one of the 5th grade teachers from my time just retired. Then, I drove past my middle school, Pyle. It’s also undergone lots of significant renovations. It’s been in the news recently too, though. There was a really bad sexting scandal this past year. On the plus side, my favorite history teacher from high school just became the principal there.
And then there is Whitman. It seems largely unchanged. I really like going back there. Not sure why. A book was written about the school based on kids from my year.
Anyways, as I prepare to move on, I’m happy. This past week has been a lot of fun. I’ve seen my oldest friend (from kindergarten through college) and hung out with some awesome people in Dupont Circle (makes me feel so old). My parents and I enjoyed a yummy meal at Jaleo and watched a really cool movie.
The next chapter of my journey is beginning, but I leave this one on a very happy note. Talk to you tomorrow, from the West Coast.
Bye for a bit... B-town
After the lost kiddies were reunited with the rest of the group, we decided to go grab some grub. We wandered into a tiny little alley (which still seemed to attract a bunch of traffic) and found a nice, little restaurant.
The group was split into two because they couldn’t fit all 14 of us at one table, in spite of the fact that the restaurant was empty. The menu offered a wonderful collection of odd dishes. Some of the kids were brave enough to try some of them. One of the most adventurous, which I had previously tried, was squid ink pasta. The pasta includes some of that black ink from squid that fishermen bring into their nets.
Squid Ink Pasta or, Pasta al nero
In spite of the appearance, the pasta was actually quite good. Another odd pasta that appeared on the menu is called spaghetti alla carrettiera. The dish consists of pasta with tomato sauce, fresh tuna, two types of mushrooms, and pancetta. It seems like an odd combination, but it’s delicious. Here’s a picture.
Spaghetti alla Carrettiera
It was a really nice restaurant for our penultimate dinner of the trip. Tomorrow, we’ll finish things up.
So we finish with the pigeons and prepare to find something for dinner. It’s about 7 now, and people are hungry. We leave out of the corner by the “Bar Americano” and prepare to walk back towards the Rialto. What I actually told the kids was that we would wander until we found a non-touristy restaurant and go there. That was the plan, but as you’ll soon see, it became problematic and terrifying for me.
Last photo before the drama begins
I think this will be an excellent time to chat with Sam’s sister. I haven’t really spoken with her before because I’ve been preoccupied with losing someone. Usually, especially as we walk in cities, I look back obsessively to make sure that the whole group is there. But, we get into deep conversation and I don’t do that. We eventually make it right by the Rialto (the huge bridge in Venice) and I even made some comment like, “how did we possibly end up here?” Right, so I turn around, and….
Where (half) of us ended up
Half the kids are gone. Not there. Vanished. I figure that maybe they’ve simply slowed down and will catch up with us. Five minutes later, nope. They are gone. Lost in Venice. We immediately begin to backtrack toward them. I tell the kids who made it to wait right there by the bridge while I go back to get the others. I’m still not really sure where they are. Then, I remember (thanks to one of the kids). I’ve collected everyone’s contact information that day on the train to give to everyone else once we get back to the USA. Nolan has his American phone on him and always on (some of his friends jokingly called him one night in a hotel and he answered). I call, and he answers.
My mind is immediately more at ease. They are in San Marco, following the separation plan to the letter. They were getting worried, but were relieved that I would be coming back. And I was relieved too. Unfortunately, Venice can still get me lost and it took me a bit longer than I wanted to find everyone. But I did everyone, and that was the important thing. We were reunited and a crisis was averted.
Close call.
We arrive in Venice after a 8-hour train ride through most of the country. It was a bittersweet moment for me when we passed through Ferrara, which is where I studied for the second half of my junior year. The stop in the train station was almost long enough for me to walk through the train station, but I decided against it.
Anyways, we arrived in Venice and immediately saw the other group! Woot! We walked to the hotel, dropped our things and set off exploring. It was also at this point that the sister of Sam joined us for the remaining two days of the trip. She was awesome; a great addition to our group. I entrusted Georgia and Kelly with the task of getting us to Piazza San Marco (St. Mark’s square). They did very well. Not direct, to be sure, but as good as I could do (more on that later).
So we arrive. It’s a beautiful square. I’ve been there so many times, and I find it stunning every single time. A slideshow of my many trips to Venice is below.
Ironically, I think my first trip was the worst weather. Anyways, we walked into the piazza and the kids flocked to the pigeons right away. Lowell was deathly afraid of them and took up a water bottle to defend himself from them. Check out everyone else’s adventures with the little birds (I’ll upload pics in a subsequent post). We were having a tough time with getting the pigeons to come until I realized that I had some cookies in my bag. By the way, this is bad and against the rules.
The kids had an awesome time for about 15 minutes until one decided to poop on Amanda. That’s when everyone decided they had enough. She bought a sweatshirt and then the whole group formed a body shield so she could change shirts in the middle of the piazza. It worked. And we moved on.
The next part of this adventure comes tomorrow (and one of the most scary for me).
Not Intent on Arriving 