Venice and Running into Mountains

Brian and I jumped headlong into the Adriatic upon arriving in our campsite and then joined the strange, neon lit party club of the campground on the beach. It was not exactly our scene, but a triple jack daniels put me to sleep very comfortably afterward.

We awoke and made a jump to Venice via ferry by noon. Grabbing cafes and pastries along the way, we immediately found ourselves lost among the Venician canals and alleys. Refusing maps and direction, Brian and I explored the island fairly thoroughly, remaining very mobile for 8 hours and just happening to cross paths with Casanova's home and Marco Polo's home. We also crossed paths with hundreds of 3 foot wide alleys, many of which I insisted on walking down, smelling the scent of cool clean laundry hanging many stories above me in the dark shade of the alley. They always ended in water. The water was blue with fish and crabs in it. Amazingly, next to life, there was more aquatic life, not just pollution. We listened to gondolla men sing and play accordion through the canals. Stores full of cut glass of brilliant shades of red blue and green lit up the dark small streets. No cars, no motor vehicles other than boats. TONS of tourists- of all nationalities. It was an experience which is poorly conveyed by words and pictures, Venice is a place only to be experienced in real time. It is one of the most unique places on the planet, known for being so, and actually fulfilled all my expectations of such a special location.

The mash up of people and tourism led to an interestig meeting which led to the current location from which I write this post. Meaghan sat in a cafe where Brian rested as I made a glass purchase. After hearing a brief conversation with my parents, she mentioned she also was going to Slovenia, and would we like to look at her Slovenia book? We talked about our respective travels and went our separate ways, with the possible intent of recountering in Bled, Slovenia, a small alpine lake town.

After this meeting, Brian and I returned to the campsite and took the bikes to ride for the next two days to the Italian-Slovenian border. Upon reaching the border, the Alps stood strong against us, and we doubled over ourselves back and forth across the border three times before relenting in a thunderstorm and setting camp in Gorica-Goriza. Before the storm, however, we swam in a frigid river and happened to be under the largest single span stone bridge in the world. The next morning, we rode off, wet, to the train station to catch a cheap train to Bled- why not? When we stepped out of the train station in Bled, a blue lake with a church set on an island in the middle and massive Alps greeted us.