19 April 2007

So... here I am, writing from the future, on the last day of my pan-European-Adriatic-Aegean Odyssey. What better way to start off the Travelogue than to begin committing the words to the page as the travels come to an end?

As I type this I am on a train racing across Holland with the windows open on a wonderful sunny day outside. It is mid-afternoon and there is no one else in my train car so I've opened all the windows to create some serious airflow through the cabin and I am happily sitting here with my iPod headphones in and my own songs playing loud and singing along with them. Only the cows can hear me as I bullet past them - surely creating a weird Doppler shift effect that I'd love to be in their cow-shoes to hear. These cows are probably one of the best audiences I've ever played to.

So what are my thoughts on this lovely day? Well, firstly that this is really the adventure, right here, right now. With all my failures in pursuing my life, this life that we lead is pretty great. I've travelled almost 10.000 kilometres in the past 12 days, through nine different countries, and I am glad to be almost home. I even look forward to getting back to work again, because that is an adventure too.

That is quite a positive outlook, don't you think? I am sure it will pass and I'll be back to normal soon.

As for other thoughts? Well, the second thing that is on my mind at 140 km/h today is that Italians annoy me. What the hell is wrong with Italy?!??

(Read as: skip down to the pictures to avoid ranting)

Why Italy Bothers Me
I first visited Italy in the summer of 1995. I went there after having visited England, Holland, Germany and Austria and immediately after leaving Italy I went to Switzerland. I've said it many times before, but Switzerland left an impressive mark in my mind as being one of the most 'together' countries on the face of the planet. I suspect this had a lot to do with the fact that I first visited it AFTER having been in Italy. Imagine me on the streets of Zürich for the first time: Things working the way they are supposed to work, people politely speaking perfect English, drivers stopping for me at zebra crossings, train announcements that can be understood, and not one single person waving their arms around and talking loudly. It was like Utopia.

Another lingering impression I brought home from that first trip to Europe was the idea that the Italian Carabinieri police were some serious dudes. I remember seeing a brawl on the streets of Rome and some regular police clashing with some angry drunks while the Carabinieri stood by calmly, leaning on their machine guns.

Wow, I thought. What has to happen for these guys to get involved? I thought in admiration and awe.

Twelve years and several trips to Italy later I finally have the answer: Nothing. There is no magic secret to the Carabinieri stepping in to a situation to restore order. They aren't some impressive elite force. They are just typical Italians standing around who couldn't care less if anyone nearby is breaking the law: smashing windows, cracking heads, or urinating on trees in front of Milano Centrale train station (as was the case less than 24 hours ago). They simply don't care enough to overcome the inertia of laziness. That's the answer. This was quite a revelation for me.

It's strange that the Italians never fail to disappoint me when I visit their country. It usually takes less than five minutes for something to happen to make me realise. Oh right! I am in Italy. I forgot that I'd left the functioning world behind me.

Sometimes it's a hotel shower drain that does not drain, despite repeated complaints and an equal number of assurances that the problem will be fixed by the next day.

Sometimes it's something more simple, like pulling on the towel dispenser in the airport and having it fall completely off the wall.

Sometimes it's train ticket machines that don't work, fully to the knowledge of the ticket people nearby.

Sometimes it's signs that point to things that don't exist.

Sometimes there's no stairs and all the available escalators are set into UP mode.

Sometimes it's a cash machine that asks you what language you want to use AFTER already asking you the important questions in Italian. Sure thing. I choose English after I already have my money. I'd hate to get confused about that last message... the one about not forgetting your card and waiting for my money.

Sometimes it's train station baggage storage places (no lockers) that won't take your bags because they are too heavy for weak Italian arms. That's okay though because I really did want to spend five hours in the Milan train station. I might as well anyway since it's nearly impossible to leave the building and when I do the first thing I see is a guy peeing on a tree with Carabinieri standing watching him.

I'd wanted to spend the afternoon of my last day in Italy shopping in the fashion capital of Europe, but instead I wander around the train station and eat McDonalds.

On my wanderings I find a memorial inside the station, tucked down along one of the far tracks, that commemorates the train employees who lost their lives in the various Italian wars. Not the Italian wars of conquest during World War Two, of course. That would be tasteless here, right? The cathedral to fascism that is the Milan central train station speaks for itself, perhaps.

World War One (1914-1918) is properly represented and that's fair, I think. It was a stupid war, but Italy's role in it was no more stupid than any other country's.

Perhaps it was the haze of boredom and resentment at the time but I question the reference on the memorial to the Italian Wars of Independence (1943 and 1945). Something about that terminology bothers me in light of the fact that the Italians were kind of the ones who started the whole fascism / wars of conquest thing in the first place and that the "wars of independence" coincide with foreign powers invading their country.

I don't know. Maybe that's just me.

Ok. Are we all finished with my pointless musings on the road home?

Let's get to the trip, shall we?

From The Hague to Venice

I'll spare you the play-by-play on the trip South from The Hague and into Germany. It is here in Düsseldorf that the journey really begins because (as you can see) this is where we'll catch the Night Train South to Milan.

This is home for the next 12 hours or so - falling asleep somewhere in the area near the Moselle River.

And the next morning we awake in the Alps as the train passes out of Switzerland and into Northern Italy. Italian border police board the train and tear the place apart like jackbooted thugs, cutting short my on-board shower. They move through the train cars demanding that suitcases be taken down and opened up and then immediately walk off, never actually returning to inspect them.

Welcome to Italy!

And so we finally arrive in Milano Centrale train station. From here it's another short train ride East to Venice.

Fast forward a bit. I am trying to spare you the various train journeys because they weren't all that interesting to experience first-hand and would certainly be less so retold in pictures.

Crossing the causeway that connects Venice to the mainland we catch our first glimpse of the ship that will be home for the next ten days.

Have you ever noticed that Venice is a city that is very frequently compared to other cities?

For example: Amsterdam is the Venice of the North. Or Venice, California. Or any of the many other cities that are apparently Venice-like because they happen to have some canals. And you don't even need canals to be compared to Venice because I've even heard that the city of Dubrovnik (where we'll be tomorrow) is like Venice, except without the canals.

I am not sure why it is so many other places with their own character and charm are so often compared to Venice. Somehow in the Western World we've elevated the city of Venice to some mythical status and whenever we see a town with a couple canals it immediately becomes "like Venice", and probably this observation is often by people who've never been to the original one in the first place.

In truth, however, none of those places is anything like Venice at all because Venice is sort of a one-of-kind place. And maybe the reason for that has something to do with the fact that more sensible people probably would have abandoned the idea of living out in the middle of the water long before an entire city grew out of it.

Whatever the reasons past, the result is that Venice is a city like no other and in the modern world always seems a bit contrived to me, and definitely seems excessively impractical. Despite the conventional clichés, Amsterdam is nothing like Venice. And the reason is simple: In Amsterdam the canals are merely one of several means of getting around the city (and the least practical means, at that). In Venice the canals are the ONLY way to get around the city. Amsterdam is a city with some water in it whereas Venice is some water with a city in it.

So the next time you hear that some city or town compared to Venice, ask yourself these questions: Are there busses? Are there taxis? Are there subways? Are there trams? Venice (the main bit, anyway) doesn't have any of those things because it can't have them because the city is built in the middle of a bunch of water.

Now, of course there ARE taxis in Venice - water-taxis. But that isn't quite the same thing. But in my opinion this is one of the nicer ways to see and get around Venice and avoid the other scourge of Venice life that is the ever-present crowds of people. It is, however, also one of the most expensive ways. But expensive or not, at this moment in time I am hardly in the mood to negotiate the Venetian public transit system or walk the streets with large suitcases, so off we go direct by water-taxi from the train station to the ship terminal.

The train station recedes in the distance behind us as we zip through the canals of Venice.

Our water-taxi pulls up alongside the ship - the MS Veendam, as you can see.

Not surprisingly we're not the only ones to value convenience over cost as there is a queue of other taxis being unloaded ahead of us.

The view of the ship from the dock as we make our way to the boarding hall.

As you can imagine, the boarding of thousands of people onto a ship is a daunting task. It is made orderly by dividing everyone into smaller groups who are called out by number to check-in and proceed on-board.

Down below the bags of the passengers are being loaded onto the ship and will be taken to each individual stateroom where they will be waiting once we get on-board.

The entrance gangway seems so small compared to the ship and the process of getting on-board.

It's a blurry picture, I know, but I wanted to show the ever-important sanitising of hands that is such a feature of life on-board a ship. After scanning your ship card (which the computer then records that a person is ON the ship) everyone then must proceed to apply some hand-gel to kill off some of the germs they may have picked up.

Waiting in our stateroom is a gift from my travel agent - some chocolate strawberries.

And this is the stateroom. Nothing spectacular, just a nice hotel room kind of thing, but with a view out the window to see what's happening outside.

First order of business once on board is to explore the ship a little bit.

On deck at the back of the ship they are setting up for the Sail Away Party at poolside.

Away in the distance is the rooftops of Venice.

This is the volleyball / tennis court.

A view over the roofs of Venice from the Sports Deck.

The roof is open over the Lido Pool one deck below.

A view along the Sports Deck toward the back of the ship.

Some live music down below by the Lido Pool.

The view from the Sky Deck at the front of the ship. At the top of this photo you can see the causeway joining the mainland (off to the left) with Venice (off to the right).

A view back along the length of the ship from the Sky Deck.

As you can see, some people have wasted no time and have already stripped down and are lying around the pool.

With the ship exploring finished it is time for some lunch.

Our lunch table has a pleasant view over Venice.

Ice cream, pies, cakes and cookies are a proper lunch, aren't they?

Before the ship departs it is time for the required lifeboat drill.

Our lifeboat (Number 6) is the one that is going to be half empty when the ship sinks because of all the stupid idiots that are assigned to it. Fine by me, more room for the smart people.

It is almost time to pull away from the dock so we head up to the upper decks for a good view.

The bell tower of the basilica at San Marco is clearly visible in the distance.

There is a lot of construction and stuff going on above Venice. Fortunately for those at sea level you can't see much of it in the narrow streets and canals of Venice.

Passengers gather at the back of the ship for the Sail Away Party.

A part of the ship we haven't explored yet. This is the area for teens only (as you can see from the sign).

It's not fair. Why do the teens get to have a cool place to hang out in with hammocks and waterfalls?!??

Looking out the front of the ship I enjoy the view of the causeway connecting Venice to the mainland. I'd never seen it from this high angle before and it really drives home the fact that Venice is really quite isolated far out in the water.

And so we finally get under way. The Veendam slowly pulls away from the dock, kicking up all sorts of mud from the shallow bottom.

The flagpole at the bow of the ship flies the Dutch flag, of course, as this is Holland America Line.

The Veendam slowly backs out of the terminal and turns toward the city and open water beyond.

A boat full of drunks cruises past, cheering and waving.

Pulling away from the terminal is now complete and the Veendam now starts to move forward.

Here you can see a satellite image of the Venice lagoon on which I've marked the route we will follow as we sail out to the open water, past the main parts of Venice and Piazza San Marco, and then toward the island of Lido before turning and heading out between the breakwaters and into the Adriatic Sea.

The waterways of Venice are, of course, full of activity and boats of all shapes and sizes moving around. Doesn't the one at the left look like a VW van somehow?

The Veendam slowly makes it's way past the city of Venice and toward the open ocean. At the bottom of the picture you can see some crazed exercise people from the gym who have decided to take a break from running on treadmills to watch the ship as it leaves. I don't really understand the whole gym thing, I guess, but I am still surprised that as the ship is pulling out that there are people jogging and exercising and stretching instead of watching.

The Veendam continues to steam toward the open ocean, and out of sight down below the crazed exercise people continue to exercise and not pay attention to the ship leaving.

Here we see Venice's version of the city bus, the Vaporetto, as it pulls away from one of the "bus stops".

Venice has a much more terracotta colouring than I remember. I suspect it is because of seeing the city from roof level, which is not how one normally sees it.

One of the many canals of Venice, and some people stopping to watch the Veendam pass by.

The bell tower of San Marco in the distance, and a church that reminds me of the one from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. (It's not actually the church from the movie, but it reminds me of it. The real church they used in the film, which is the Campo San Barnaba, is actually somewhere off toward the left in the maze of buildings between here and the Grand Canal.)

The bell tower of San Marco makes for an excellent reference point, don't you think?

Something else you might not notice from ground level is how much some of the towers of Venice are leaning.

Starting to come around the corner toward Piazza San Marco.

Off to the right side is another of the islands that make up Venice.

See what I mean about the terracotta colouring?

A lighthouse at the end of the strip of land off to our right on the Island of San Giorgio Maggiore.

Here's another satellite map on which I've marked our route through the main islands of Venice and our current position.

And off to our left the Piazza San Marco comes into view.

A closer view of the basilica of San Marco and the Doge's palace.

The perspective changes as we sail past San Marco.

All of Venice is busy with boats and people, but San Marco is the heart of Venice, I guess, and so the activity is that much greater here. It's rather calm and pleasant from this vantage point, however.

The crowds are not so bad around San Marco at this moment, I suppose. But even in quiet moments it is still teeming with life.

The perspective continues to change and we leave San Marco behind us.

Some crowds of people gather to watch the Veendam sailing past.

Looking ahead again as San Marco recedes behind us. In the far distance is the Island of Lido.

Looking back along the ship toward Piazza San Marco in the distance behind us.

Continuing along the channel toward the island of Lido.

We start to make the turn to pass by with Lido on our right side.

Yet another satellite map (aren't these helpful?) to show our progress through the maze of islands in the lagoon.

Some other people up on the Sky Deck enjoying the view.

Way off in the distance behind us the bell tower at San Marco remains clearly visible and recognisable.

I am surprised that on a ship with more than a thousand passengers that there are so few people up here to watch us sailing out.

The island of Lido on the right side passing by.

The San Marco bell tower still recognisable way back there in the distance behind us.

Finally ahead of us the open water comes into view.

Looking along the beaches on Lido as we past by.

Up ahead are the open waters of the Adriatic Sea.

Walking back to the rear of the ship we find that the Sail Away Part has wrapped things up.

We pass by the final lighthouse on one of the breakwaters guarding the entrance to the Venice lagoon and officially leave Venice behind us.

One final satellite map to show where we've been and where we're going.

As the sun begins to set over Venice we set out sights ahead to Dubrovnik.

A view from the bow of the Veendam looking back toward the bridge.

Our cabin is very well located here on the Lower Promenade Deck (just up ahead, fifth window on the right. It takes about ten steps out of our door to reach the open air and deck chairs.

(As for the windows and people walking by looking in.... don't worry, they are significantly mirrored windows and you can't see anything through them from outside.)

The sun starts to set on the first day of our voyage through the Adriatic and Aegean.

I am always fascinated by the churned up waters in the wake of a ship.

Dinner isn't for another couple of hours so I figure that it's time for the usual pre-dinner ice cream, pies, brownies, shrimp cocktail and salad. An odd combination, perhaps.

Before getting dressed for dinner I wander around the ship to watch the sunset. Brace yourself for random sunset photos.

Somehow the photos fail to capture the immense red of the sunset as it was in real life.

A view of the glass sculpture in the main Atrium of the Veendam.

Just off the Atrium is our cabin (first door on left).

After all this time I still haven't mastered the art of taking food pictures. But at any rate, this is dinner on the first evening aboard - one of my favourites - prime rib.

Dinner is followed by a selection of international cheeses, and of course some more ice cream.

And with that it's off to bed. Tomorrow we arrive in Dubrovnik.

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