Després de certes amenaces per part de certs membres de la família per part de la núvia, seguim amb l’aventurilla. Amb l’ànim d’acabar-la. Va per tu Brian.Ja havien passat els dos dies a Florència i havíem d’anar tirant cap a Venècia. Vam sortir si fa no fa cap a les 12 del migdia. El més estrany de tot era que els transportistes estaven de vaga a Espanya, però podem assegurar que no estaven de vaga a Itàlia, ja que mai havíem vist tants camions junts. Convois de 20 camions, un rera l’altre, en una autopista de dos carrils, amb pujades i baixades, i camions avançant altres camions a 10 km per hora. I un sol senyal que deia Venezia, i era ja a Bolonya, que vam veure per casualitat.
Vam arribar a Venècia cap a les 3 del migdia. En arribar al camping, el recepcionista va cridar Jordi!!! Cosa que donava a pensar que no tenien gaire feina. Mala senyal per un camping. I així va ser. El camping era depriment.
Tan bon punt havíem deixat els trastos al bungalow que havíem reservat, vam agafar l’autobús cap al Centro Storico. El primer que havíem de fer era dinar. I així va ser, en un petit carreró vam gaudir de pasta –per variar- i allà, tot fent el cafè va aparèixer en Jesús un altre cop. Vam passejar per la ciutat pels canals, Piazza San Marco i tots els altres reclams. Una visita massa ràpida potser, queda pendent un cap de setmana diria. Hi havia botigues de masqueres per tot arreu. Algunes només per turistes, d’altres d’artesanals que impressionaven força. Un cop vam fer mitja ciutat, en Jesús ens va convidar a prendre algo. Havia de marxar aviat per anar al seu camping, però abans de tirar cap al Piazzale Roma, em va avisar “No et diré quant m’ha costat una cervesa, però t’aviso”. Ens vam quedar amb el missatge que era força car.
Un cop en Jesús havia marxat, nosaltres també vam començar a tirar cap a l’estació d’autobusos. Tirant tirant, vam veure que ens havíem perdut, i s’acostava una bona tempesta. En veure que no sabíem on erem i que començava a pedregar ens vam refugiar sota un pont, al costat d’un canal. Ja havíem estat caminant mitja hora sense sort. Quan va parar una mica, vam entrar a un restaurant i, mapa en mà, vam preguntar-li a l’home on érem. Evidentment, estavem a l’altra punta de Venècia. I ens va indicar com havíem de tornar a l’estació d’autobusos.
I al final vam arribar al canal principal. Després de tanta pluja, la Lisa volia assaborir un dels seus últims machiatto i jo, per variar una cervesa. La broma va sortir prou cara la veritat. Finalment vam arribar al camping, cap a les 11 de la nit. Al dia següent tiravem cap a Milà.El camí de Venècia a Milà era fàcil. Milà és una ciutat força semblant a Barcelona, molta gent demanant pel carrer etcètera. Vam poder fer una visita ràpida a la plaça del duomo, i també les famoses galeries, on fins i tot McDonald’s canvia els seus colors per adaptar-se als estandards. També vam poder veure el Castello Sforzesco de lluny. A la tornada ens vam liar una mica amb el tramvia, ja que estaven fent obres fins l’1 de juny. Vam preguntar-li a una noia i va dir “Ui però això és Itàlia”, per tant, vaig deduïr que no només la semblança amb la llengua uneix italians i espanyols. La noia, molt amable, ens va guiar, ja que anava en la mateixa direcció. Molt bona noia, tot i que preferia Madrid a Barcelona.
After some threats by certain members of the bride’s family, we keep on with this little adventure. With the will to finish. That’s for you Brian. Don’t need to kick anybody’s ass.
After the two days in Florence we were heading towards Venice. We left by midday. One strange thing is that lorry drivers were on strike in Spain, but they were surely not in Italy, since we had never seen so many lorries together in our lives. 20 lorry convoys, one after the other, in double-carriageway, with ups and downs, and lorries taking over other lorries at 6 m.p.h. And only one signing saying Venezia, already in Bologna, that we saw by chance. We arrived at Venice by 3pm. When we got to the camping the recepcionist cried out loud “Joooordi!!!!”. So we grasped he didn’t have much work. It’s not a good sign for a camping. And so it was. The camping was depressing.
Once we left our staff in the bungalow we had booked, we took the bus towards the Centro Storico. The first thing to be done was lunch. In a tiny alley, we enjoyed some pasta –as usual- and there, while having the coffee, Jesús turned up again. We strolled along the city, the canals, Piazza San Marco and all the touristic musts. Maybe too much of a quick visit, as I’d say there’s a weekend pending. There were mask shops all over the place. Some were for tourists, some others handcrafted, which were quite impressing. Once we had done half the city, Jesús invited us for a drink. He had to leave early to the camping, but before heading to Piazzale Roma we warned us “I’m not going to tell you how much the beer was!”. We took a hint that was pretty expensive.
Once Jesús had left, we also started heading towards the bus station. Going along, we found out we got lost, and a storm was getting closer. When we made sure we didn’t know where we were, we sheltered under a bridge next to a canal. We had already been walking for half an hour with no luck. As soon as it stopped a little bit, we entered a restaurant and, with the map, we asked where we were. Obviously, we were right on the other side of Venice. And he told us how to reach the bus station.
Finally we got to the main canal. After so much rain and hailstone, Lisa was willing to enjoy one of her last machiatto and I, as usual, a beer. This was pretty expensive. We finally got to the camping by 11pm. The following day we were driving towards Milan.
The way from Venice to Milan was pretty easy. Milan is a city similar to Barcelona with lots of beggars, etc. We could take a quick visit at the duomo, those famous galleries, where ven McDonald’s changes its colours to follow the brand standards. We could also see Castello Sforzesco. When it was time to come back to the hotel we were a little messed up with the tram, as there were building works until the 1st of June. We asked some girl and she said “Yeah, but this is Italy, you know”, so I grasped the idea that Spanish and Italians are quite similar, besides language matters. This girl, very kind, guided us as she was going to the same direction. Very nice girl, although she preferred Madrid to Barcelona.
