399 Days: Our European Escapade

By Pam Taylor

In Volume I, 399 Days: An American Adventure, the Taylor family visited the 48 contiguous United States. Their experiences bonded them together as never before. In their travels, they happened upon parades, concerts, regional festivals, holiday celebrations, and state fairs. The changing seasons brought natures kaleidoscope of colors. Although there were arguments and hurt feelings, they found grace and forgiveness through their relationships with Jesus Christ. Sometimes the challenges seemed to come from all directions, as they get sick, sore, snowed in, sent away, misquoted, misled, pulled over, and locked out. Through it all, the Lord provided and the family as thrived.

Now the Taylors are ready for even higher adventure: a new continent with foreign languages, new currencies, exotic foods, and unfamiliar customs. When they mention their plans to others, most people shake their heads. They say its crazy. Maybe it is.

Join them now as they embark on Volume II, 399 Days: Our European Escapade.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781546217626

Pam Taylor

In the hope that this book will be a blessing to children and adults, Pam Taylor shares a story of an imaginary caterpillar who encounters Jesus. She takes us through a journey of choices that she believes we all face in some way in our lives. Her inspiration is God’s perfect design, His beautiful nature, and the free choice He affords each of us: whether or not to trust and obey.

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2017 Pam Taylor. All rights reserved.

Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®

Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Map permission from AAA Travel Information & Content Publishing.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/18/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5462-1761-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-1762-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017917676

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Day 256 – Arizona, US; London, UK; Geneva, Switzerland; Annecy, France (by Caitlin)

Day 257 – France and Italy (by Ben)

Day 258 – Venice, Italy (by Lindsey)

Day 259 – Venice, Italy (by Abby)

Day 260 – Venice, Italy (by Caitlin)

Day 261 – Venice and Valtopina, Italy (by Jim)

Day 262 – Valtopina and Assisi, Italy (by Pam)

Day 263 – Valtopina, Italy (by Caitlin)

Day 264 – Roma, Italy (by Ben)

Day 265 – Rome, Italy & Vatican City (by Lindsey)

Day 266 – Rome, Italy (by Abby)

Day 267 – Rome, Italy (by Ben)

Day 268 – Rome and Naples, Italy (by Jim)

Day 269 – Naples, Italy (by Pam)

Day 270 – Naples, Italy (by Caitlin)

Day 271 – Naples and Florence, Italy (by Ben)

Day 272 – Florence, Italy (by Lindsey)

Day 273 – Florence, Pisa, and Fiesole, Italy (by Abby)

Day 274 – Florence, Italy (by Lindsey)

Day 275 – from Florence, Italy, to Aubagne, France (by Jim)

Day 276 – Aubagne and Les Baux de Provence, France (by Pam)

Day 277 – Aubagne and Avignon, France (by Caitlin)

Day 278 – Aubagne and Arles, France (by Ben)

Day 279 – Aubagne, France (by Lindsey)

Day 280 – Aubagne and Pont du Gard, France and Badalona, Spain (by Abby)

Day 281 – Badalona and Barcelona, Spain (by Abby)

Day 282 – Badalona and Barcelona, Spain (by Jim)

Day 283 – Badalona and Barcelona, Spain (by Pam)

Day 284 – Badalona and Montserrat, Spain (by Caitlin)

Day 285 – Badalona and Madrid, Spain (by Ben)

Day 286 – Madrid, Spain (by Lindsey)

Day 287 – Madrid, Spain (by Abby)

Day 288 – Toledo and Granada, Spain (by Jim)

Day 289 – Granada, Spain (by Jim)

Day 290 – Granada to Córdoba to Sevilla, Spain (by Pam)

Day 291 – Sevilla, Spain and Lisbon, Portugal (by Caitlin)

Day 292 – Lisbon, Cabo da Roca, and Praia Adraga, Portugal (by Ben)

Day 293 – Lisbon, Portugal (by Lindsey)

Day 294 – Lisbon, Portugal and León, Spain (by Abby)

Day 295 – León and Mungia, Spain (by Pam)

Day 296 – Mungia, Spain (by Jim)

Day 297 – Mungia and San Sebastián, Spain (by Pam)

Day 298 – Mungia and San Sebastián, Spain; Ore, France (by Caitlin)

Day 299 – Ore and Hautes-Pyrénées, France (by Ben)

Day 300 – Ore, France (by Lindsey)

Day 301 – Ore and Valroufié, France (by Abby)

Day 302 – Valroufié, France (by Caitlin)

Day 303 – Valroufié, Cahors, St. Gery, and Cabrerets, France (by Jim)

Day 304 – Valroufié, Rocamadour, and Paris, France (by Pam)

Day 305 – Paris, France (by Caitlin)

Day 306 – Paris, France (by Lindsey)

Day 307 – Paris, France (by Ben)

Day 308 – Paris, France (by Abby)

Day 309 – Paris and Caen, France (by Ben)

Day 310 – France and England (by Pam)

Day 311 – The Cotswolds, England (by Jim)

Day 312 – Chipping Campden and Stratford-upon-Avon, England (by Caitlin)

Day 313 – Stratford-upon-Avon, Woodstock, Chipping Campden, England (by Ben)

Day 314 – Chipping Campden and Birmingham, England & Rhewl, Wales (by Lindsey)

Day 315 – Rhewl, Wales (by Abby)

Day 316 – Rhewl, Wales (by Lindsey)

Day 317 – Irish Sea (by Jim)

Day 318 – Dublin, Ireland (by Pam)

Day 319 – Dublin and Blessington, Ireland (by Caitlin)

Day 320 – Slieve Bloom Mountains, Enniscorthy, and Blackwater, Ireland (by Ben)

Day 321 – Blackwater, New Ross, and Ferrycarrig, Ireland (by Lindsey)

Day 322 – Blackwater, Wexford, Hook Peninsula, and Waterford, Ireland (by Abby)

Day 323 – Blackwater, Kinsale, and Killarney, Ireland (by Abby)

Day 324 – Killarney, Ireland (by Jim)

Day 325 – Killarney, Ireland (by Pam)

Day 326 – Killarney, Limerick, and Fanore, Ireland (by Caitlin)

Day 327 – County Clare, Ireland (by Ben)

Day 328 – County Clare to Connemara, Ireland (by Lindsey)

Day 329 – Connemara, Ireland (by Abby)

Day 330 – From Clifden, Ireland, to Ardstraw Village, Northern Ireland (by Jim)

Day 331 – Ardstraw Village, Northern Ireland (by Jim)

Day 332 – Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland, and the North Channel (by Pam)

Day 333 – North Channel, Cairnryan, Bonhill, Edinbane, Scotland (by Caitlin)

Day 334 – Isle of Skye, Scotland (by Ben)

Day 335 – Isle of Skye, Scotland (by Lindsey)

Day 336 – Isle of Skye to Edinburgh, Scotland (by Abby)

Day 337 – Edinburgh, Scotland (by Pam)

Day 338 – Edinburgh, Scotland (by Jim)

Day 339 – Edinburgh, Scotland to Skipton, England (by Pam)

Day 340 – The Yorkshire Dales, England (by Caitlin)

Day 341 – The Yorkshire Dales, England (by Ben)

Day 342 – The Yorkshire Dales & London, England (by Lindsey)

Day 343 – London, England (by Abby)

Day 344 – London, England (by Caitlin)

Day 345 – London, England (by Jim)

Day 346 – London, England (by Pam)

Day 347 – London, England (by Caitlin)

Day 348 – London, England (by Ben)

Day 349 – London & Dover, England; Dunkirk, France; Oostende, Belgium (by Lindsey)

Day 350 – Oostende and Ieper, Belgium (by Ben)

Day 351 – Oostende, Brugge, and Damme, Belgium (by Abby)

Day 352 – Oostende, Belgium, to Amsterdam and Haarlem, Netherlands (by Jim)

Day 353 – Amsterdam, Netherlands (by Pam)

Day 354 – Haarlem, Netherlands (by Caitlin)

Day 355 – Haarlem, Zaandam, and Zaand Voort, the Netherlands (by Ben)

Day 356 – Haarlem, the Netherlands & Köln and Burgen, Germany (by Lindsey)

Day 357 – Burgen and the Rhine and Mosel Valleys (by Abby)

Day 358 – Burgen and the Mosel River Valley, Germany (by Lindsey)

Day 359 – Burgen and Trier, Germany and Luxembourg (by Jim)

Day 360 – Burgen and Dinkelsbühl, Germany (by Pam)

Day 361 – Dinkelsbühl, Germany (by Caitlin)

Day 362 – Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany (by Ben)

Day 363 – Dinkelsbühl, Wallertein, and Nördlingen, Germany (by Lindsey)

Day 364 – Dinkelsbühl and Berlin, Germany (by Abby)

Day 365 – Berlin, Germany (by Abby)

Day 366 – Berlin, Germany (by Jim)

Day 367 – Berlin, Germany to Černý Vůl (near Prague), Czech Republic (by Pam)

Day 368 – Černý Vůl and Prague, Czech Republic (by Caitlin)

Day 369 – Prague and Černý Vůl, Czech Republic (by Ben)

Day 370 – Prague, Czech Republic (by Lindsey)

Day 371 – Černý Vůl, Černovice, and Telč, Czech Republic to Vienna, Austria (by Abby)

Day 372 – Vienna, Austria (by Jim)

Day 373 – Vienna, Austria (by Jim)

Day 374 – Vienna, Austria (by Pam)

Day 375 – Vienna, Austria (by Caitlin)

Day 376 – Vienna, Hallstatt, and Mühlbach, Austria (by Ben)

Day 377 – Mühlbach am Hochkönig and Salzburg, Austria (by Lindsey)

Day 378 – Mühlbach am Hochkönig and Salzburg, Austria (by Abby)

Day 379 – Muhlbrach am Hochkonig to Kaufering, Germany (by Pam)

Day 380 – Kaufering and Kaltenburg, Germany (by Jim)

Day 381 – Kaufering, Weis, Steingaden, and Oberammergau, Germany (by Pam)

Day 382 – Kaufering and Hohenschwangau, Germany (by Caitlin)

Day 383 – Kaufering and Dachau, Germany (by Ben)

Day 384 – Kaufering and Munich, Germany (by Lindsey)

Day 385 – Kaufering, Herrsching, and Tutzing, Germany (by Abby)

Day 386 – Kaufering, Germany, Vaduz, Liechtenstein, and Faulensee, Switzerland (by Caitlin)

Day 387 – Faulensee, Bern, and Murten, Switzerland (by Jim)

Day 388 – Faulensee and Lucerne, Switzerland (by Pam)

Day 389 – Faulensee, Brienz, and Spiez, Switzerland (by Caitlin)

Day 390 – Faulensee and the Jungfrau Region, Switzerland (by Ben)

Day 391 – Lake Luzern Region, Switzerland (by Lindsey)

Day 392 – Faulensee, Stechelberg, and Gimmelwald, Switzerland (by Abby)

Day 393 – Faulensee to Bürchen, Switzerland (by Ben)

Day 394 – Bürchen, Montreux, and Lausanne, Switzerland (by Jim)

Day 395 – Bürchen and Moosalp, Switzerland (by Pam)

Day 396 – Bürchen, Täsch, Zermatt, Rothorn, Switzerland (by Caitlin)

Day 397 – Bürchen, Switzerland (by Ben)

Day 398 – Bürchen & Geneva, Switzerland to Sacramento & Elk Grove, CA (by Lindsey)

Day 399 – Elk Grove, California [a.k.a. HOME!!] (by Abby)

Accommodations Archive

Caitlin’s Shower Commentary

Lindsey’s Laughter Log

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THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES!

After our American Adventure, our family has bonded as never before. The stresses and tensions of family life arise much more quickly during our travels, yet our Lord Jesus has used these experiences to change us to be more like him. We have offended each other many times over, but the Lord has been faithful to bring grace and forgiveness. Unexpected delights surprise us as we accidentally happen upon music festivals, state fairs, parades, annual festivals, holiday celebrations, and nature’s kaleidoscope of changing colors. Challenges seem to come to us from all directions, as we get sick, sore, snowed in, sent away, misquoted, misled, pulled over, locked out, and broken down. Through it all, we have developed good routines and healthy communication patterns.

Now we are ready for something even wilder: a new continent, with foreign languages, new currencies, exotic foods, and unfamiliar customs. When we talk about our plans, most people shake their heads. They think we’re crazy. Maybe we are. But as we obey God’s call, we expect he’ll be faithful to help us.

He who calls you is utterly faithful and he will finish what he has set out to do. (1 Thess. 5:24, Phillips)

So we go forth, trusting in the Faithful One to finish what he has begun. Join us now as we embark, onward and upward, in our European Escapade.

How Far We Traveled in Europe

Our trip lasted 13 months, which is 399 days, or 9,576 hours, or 574,560 minutes, or 34,473,600 seconds, depending on how you look at it. We visited 48 states, 20 countries (including America), traveled 41,245.18 miles by car, and walked 1184.99 miles all over the world. This trip changed our lives.

Day 256 – Arizona, US; London, UK; Geneva, Switzerland; Annecy, France (by Caitlin)

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

After a great debate about which time zone’s midnight to observe in deciding when Mom’s blogging day was over and mine began, we decided that it would just be easier if I covered everything after takeoff from Phoenix. Mom doesn’t love flying as much as I do, anyway, so it worked out well. So far, all we’ve done on my day was the takeoff from Phoenix. As we are flying via British Airways to London, and then on to Geneva, to begin our exploration of Europe, all the crewmembers on board the plane and even some in the airport have darling British accents and proper manners.

Settling our bags and ourselves, we enjoyed all the safety procedures and then prepared for lift-off. As we flew away from Phoenix, the lights of the city glowed below, wishing us safe travels and bidding us farewell. This is a different sort of farewell, of course, because it is my and my siblings’ first time overseas, our first time in a foreign country that speaks a foreign language, our first time off the continent of North America, our first time outside of the Western Hemisphere. It will be a day of momentous milestones for all of us kids. Of course, Mom and Dad have already been to Europe and have therefore already accomplished all of the above. But this does not dampen our spirits one bit!

During our flight, the flight attendants came by many times with new and delicious refreshments. First, we enjoyed beverages – water, juice, ginger ale, and adult beverages. Next came dinner, a full three-course meal of a salad, a choice of vegetarian or meat entrée, and a frozen custard treat for dessert. This was surprising and a bit strenuous for our tummies, as we had just had a small, but satisfying pizza dinner at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. After dinner, it was lights out. I’d forgotten how hard it was to sleep in an airplane. Even though the lights were out, even though we had neck rests, eyeshades and slipper socks from our grandma, even though we had our choice of cool air conditioning or warm blankets, sleeping was difficult. It was difficult to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but also one that wouldn’t make your bum go numb. We all eventually fell into exhausted sleep for a short while. Mom caringly rehydrated all of us when she woke up, whether we were awake or not. She brought moist paper towels and little itty-bitty cups full of water. When I told her I was too exhausted to sleep, she permitted me to listen to music from the airplane entertainment system.

This entertainment system I speak of is high-class. It has TV, movies, and music, as well as a touch screen and a navigable system. The screen most often displays a moving map of the plane’s progress, along with information about our altitude, speed, tail wind, the temperature outside the plane, how much travel time we have left, what time it is in the time zone of our arrival, and what time we are projected to arrive. In addition, it takes customer satisfaction surveys, gives advice about well-being, presents facts about the food offered on the plane, and even offers tips on how to exercise and stretch while on the plane. After listening to jazz, and then classical music for a while, I finally found a kiddie lullaby station, and I was out like a light at the end of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. OK, so I’m sixteen, but I don’t act it, especially when I’m tired.

As we flew from Phoenix to London over the Atlantic Ocean, our pilots took us northward, over North Dakota, through the Hudson Bay, over Iceland, and then southward over the British Isles. When the cabin crew turned on the overhead lights, we were just approaching North Ireland, and it was time for breakfast. This meal consisted of a strawberry-flavored yogurt drink, a banana nut muffin, a breakfast nugget (which looked appetizing to no one), and our choice of coffee, tea, juice or water. Oh, and a mint? How many of you get to eat mints with your breakfast?!? Quite an extraordinary breakfast, indeed!

Soon after breakfast, we landed in London Heathrow International Airport, about half an hour later than we expected to arrive. However, we did not realize this fact until after we had dawdled in the restroom for a while. The restrooms in the airport were bluntly labeled Toilets, and naïve little me thought that would be the only difference between American restrooms and English toilets. Other than the name, the doors are large and wooden, the locks swing in a circle, instead of just sliding across in a straight line, the toilet paper comes one piece at a time, like Kleenex, the toilets are incredibly low to the ground and small and square. The flusher is a black button on the wall that one does not push, but simply touches to flush. Furthermore, the automatic sinks deliver boiling hot water, with no method of adjusting the temperature, and the hand dryers are a hole in the wall with air blowing at your hands from above and the water blown off your hands to the metal shelf below.

After a relaxing exploration of the London toilets, Dad informed us of the outcome of our late arrival, and we rushed from Terminal 5A to Terminal 5B via escalators and an underground transportation system. Because we switched terminals, we had to go through security again, but, as we were supposed to be boarding our plane, Mom fast-talked us through to the shortest line. Her incredible organizational skills also got us through in a jiffy, and we were on our way to the gate. We practically ran all the way there, through this amazingly annoyingly long building, past duty-free shops galore, and we made it! This plane was much shorter and smaller than the previous plane, and most of the overhead compartments were already full above our assigned seats, so we stuffed our carry-on suitcases in the overhead compartments closer to the front. This plane ride was much shorter too, so the refreshments consisted only of a beverage and a choice of sweet or savory. The sweet was two Viennese fingers with real chocolate filling, and the savory was a bag of miniature crackers that tasted somewhat like Ritz crackers.

No sooner had we finished that snack than the pilot asked the flight attendants to take their seats and prepare for landing. Shortly after, we arrived in Geneva, Switzerland, only to find that there were no escalators, just stairs. Following wordless, colorful, misleading picture signs, we received our first country stamp in our passports, from Switzerland. However, we needed to exit the airport on the French side of Geneva, known as Genève by the French. So we found the French exit, without much difficulty, and decided that we should use the restrooms before leaving. These restrooms were also different, but I will save you the agony of knowing each and every detail. The key feature in these restrooms, however, was a funky cloth towel roll for hand drying. Pushing a red bar shoots out more of the roll, but it is not to be ripped off and thrown away, but instead to be rolled back away inside the machine. While Ben observed someone else using this contraption and was therefore able to mimic his technique, we girls had no guidance. I just dried my hands on my pants instead.

After that odd adventure, we managed to get lost in the airport yet again. So Dad found his way back and called the car company, who told him that they would meet us with a shuttle, big enough for all six of us and our luggage, by the taxi pick-up place. After a short wait by the taxi sign, we rode in the car rental company’s shuttle to a hotel with two French men who spoke relatively good English, enough to get by, but still sometimes a challenge to understand. Once in the hotel parking lot, we met our new car, a black Renault Espace, very pretty, with lots of new-fangled features. While one French gentleman introduced Daddy to the prominent features of the car, the other helped us by removing what we would not need: the seventh seat and a protection screen from the trunk. Next, saying, Leetle deesle go loooooong way, he showed Mom the gas inlet, which only needs the push of a finger to open.

A Tom-Tom GPS was included with the rental car, and it kindly and efficiently led us to a gas station, then to our hotel in Annecy, France. After a while, we figured out the European roundabout, but it was still pretty scary driving in the dark in a strange car in an unfamiliar place with signs in foreign languages. Eventually, we arrived at our hotel, but we got lost looking for a parking spot nearby. By the time we’d found our way back, providentially, we found a parking spot right out in front of the hotel.

Daddy went in, got our keys and learned that our room was on the top floor, and there were no elevators. As a result, we carried nine suitcases of varying sizes and six backpacks up five flights of stairs to our hotel room for the night. It was a nice room with simple, no-nonsense features, nothing fancy. The color scheme was white, tan, and brown, with abstract accent paintings on the walls.

Upon entering the room, there was one door to the left and one door to the right. The door to the left led to what became the kids’ bedroom and bathroom for the night, with a wooden table, two white plastic chairs and a cushioned stool, a twin bed, with a twin trundle bed beneath it, and two twin mattresses pushed together to make a king bed. The bedding consisted of a white fitted sheet, a brown coverlet over a comforter, and white shams on the pillows. The closet has two sides, one side full of shelves, the other a few shelves and then a hanging area. In the bathroom are a very clean, white shower, a low, square toilet, a towel warmer (a white towel rack with temperature adjusters), a small amount of counter space, a small sink, and a big mirror to give the impression of being a larger space. Back in the front hallway, through the door on the right is what became the parents’ bathroom and bedroom for the night. The bathroom and closet and furniture were virtually the same, only with fewer beds. The parents’ bedroom had only the two twin mattresses pushed together to make a king bed.

Shortly after our arrival with our entire family’s luggage, we sat down to a dinner of squished, slimy, smelly PB&J sandwiches, carrots, and tap water. For dessert, Mom shared her highly coveted Thin Mints. After we’d eaten dinner, Mom directed us in shuffling our belongings around in the various suitcases and bags, while Lindsey and Dad showered in our two separate showers in our two separate bathrooms. Gladly, we prepared for bed and collapsed into our comfortable twin beds of varying configurations.

Day 257 – France and Italy (by Ben)

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Our whirlwind of interesting experiences began this morning when we awoke in our lovely hotel room. After quick showers and packing, we enjoyed our breakfast of Winco bagels and cream cheese. Soon we were ferrying all of our 15 bags (nine luggage and six backpacks) down the five flights of stairs to the car. It was absolutely exhausting.

With Dad in the driver’s seat, the long trip to Venice began. Heading out of Annecy was a bit of a problem; we went back and forth four times between rotaries (very few stoplights here in France; they like to keep the traffic moving) before finding where we were supposed to turn. After a little more work, we were on the freeway and speeding toward Italy.

Our route took us south and east to the freeway; it was a nice, smooth ride with fantastic scenery in every direction—including upwards. Our minivan’s huge sunroof gave us a fantastic view of the mountain country. After a bit of driving, we saw signs for the tunnel through Mont Blanc, France’s highest peak. Then Dad saw it: the glint of the sun reflecting off the snowy peak. The white of the snow blanketing the mountain had blended in with the thick layer of haze, hiding it from our view. The road now changed into a twisty mountain road with steep inclines and hairpin turns. At one point, a tall bridge took us across the valley, only for us to do a slow turn and come back in the opposite direction!

As we neared the tunnel, we joined a long line of cars and trucks waiting for our turn in the tunnel. About fifteen minutes later, we headed through the tollbooth, paid our outrageous 42 Euros and some cents, and headed under the mountain. After what seemed like hours, we emerged and headed into Italy. All our passports were ready for customs or border patrols, but we didn’t need them! There was just a normal road sign with an arrow pointing to Italia. Weird.

As we sped right by quaint mountain villages, the scenery was fantastic. All those cute little towns with their old stone buildings fit in nicely with the mountainous environment. We noticed in these villages a bit of a pattern left from the middle ages. Outside the town, usually up on a hill, was a large stone structure, which we assumed to be a castle, fort, or monastery. In the center of the village was a large brick or stone church tower.

As lunchtime drew near, we looked for a place to stop and shop. The next exit advertised shopping, so we pulled off. It was a large shopping center with stores selling just about everything. After a visit to the restrooms, we headed to the large grocery store, Carrefour. This was just like a Walmart or other supermarket—except everything was in Italian. After a bit of searching, we found the milk, bread, pasta, sauces, and fresh fruits and veggies to get us through the next couple of days. Upon exiting, we returned to the freeway and continued toward Venice.

After a quick lunch in the car, we headed through Milano to Verona, where Mom had found another shopping center. Since we have no cell phone, we hoped that a mall would have some stores that could help us. We found a parking spot in the very crowded lot and headed inside. Our first stop was Vodafone, but it didn’t have what we wanted, so we headed down to Media World—kinda like Best Buy or Fry’s. Once we found an English-speaking employee, Dad asked if they had what we wanted. Sadly, he answered with a no. But then, as we went to exit, I spotted some SIM cards near the cell phone desk. Maybe they’d have what we want! Luckily, the employee manning the desk spoke pretty good English and was able to help us find a cheap phone that would work for us.

We had to go to the cashier up front to pay for the phone, return with the receipt, pick up the phone, and then go to customer service to purchase a SIM card. Customer Service had a bit of a line, but we eventually got to the front. Here, we waited for an employee who spoke English (it turned out to be the first one we talked to) and explained our situation. They found us a SIM card, Dad paid for it, and then they told us that it would take two to three hours to activate it. Since we needed to make a call right then, Dad returned the card and asked about accessing the pay phones. He found out that he needed to purchase a special card. While he had his adventure, Mom and we kids headed out to the car for a snack.

Dad found the place that sold the cards, bought one, and then headed all the way across the complex to the nearest phone. He had the number for the landlord of the rental home for tonight, but couldn’t get the phone or phone card to work for him. So he tried to flag down help. Luckily, a nice gentleman responded to his hand signs. He could tell that Dad wasn’t Italian (I wonder how!), but he didn’t speak English. He asked if Dad knew any Spanish, which he does, so he was able to receive help and eventually make the call. Phew!

With that errand taken care of, we were back on the road to Venice. Eventually, we found our way to the terminal for the car ferry to Lido, the island near Venice where we are staying. We waited about 20 minutes before the ferry arrived. We drove on and parked just as a huge semi pulled in and parked right next to us. We squeezed out of our car, made our way to the upper cabin, and had our first glimpse of Venice at night—an island of old houses, dimly lit by streetlights along the coast, rising from ominously dark water.

Arriving on Lido, we drove to the spot the GPS said was our house—but there was no one there. Dad hopped out and disappeared. About half an hour later, he returned. He found the address, but there was no one there. He met a person who was sent by the landlord to greet him, since the landlord had to accompany someone to the ER. Dad used the house’s phone to call the landlord, which took a while but he eventually got all the information he needed. He then came back out to the car. We unloaded all our bags, hauled them up a flight of stairs, and entered our Italian villa/apartment for the first time. The entrance led to the dining/living room. On either side is a bedroom—one for parents, one for kids. Around the corner to the right are the kitchen and the bathroom.

Since it was 10 o’clock and we hadn’t had dinner yet, we headed across the street to the Trattoria Africa. It was a nice Italian café – but we could have cared less about quality. It had FOOD!! We each ordered a delicious pasta entrée, which we shared around the table. I think the vote was unanimous that Lindsey’s gnocchi with meat sauce was the best. Surprisingly, genuine Italian food is very rich. The girls had to send their plates around to be finished by the hungry men, and we still ended up with two boxes of leftovers.

After a long, Italian-style dinner, where everyone eats rreeaallyy sslloowwllyy, we headed home and to bed. It was 11 o’clock. We had woken up 15 ½ hours earlier. It was a long and rough day. But we were in a bed. In Venice.

Day 258 – Venice, Italy (by Lindsey)

Thursday, March 10, 2011

The lovely melody of birdsong drifted through the window. The heavy sun-baked forest green shutters had been thrown open letting in the soft light that tiptoed its way across the floor. If there ever was a way to wake up at 10:15 a.m. in lovely Venice, Italy, this was it. Our brightly colored bedcovers were thrown across our oddly shaped mattresses and suitcases and backpacks were scattered around the room. After putting our contacts in, Ben, Abby, and I lay on our newly made beds, read our Bibles and wrote in our prayer journals, listening still to the birdsong and the muffled sound of Caitlin showering. Once we had all showered in the exquisite Italian shower, we sat down to a breakfast of an Italian version of Honey Nut Cheerios or a fiber flake and chocolate chunk cereal (which is surprisingly good), or leftover bagels and cream cheese, and sliced oranges. Then, Daddy and Mom helped us pack three backpacks with our lunch, or maybe dinner, extra layers, and other touristy stuff like cameras. So, after visiting our beautiful flowered toilet, and not the bidet that sat next to it, yes we do have a bidet, we left our red Venice villa and started our day the Venice way. Taking a walk.

It seems to be the custom here to have a late morning walk. As we strolled along the narrow cobblestone streets lined with gates draped with ivy and flowers, surrounding extravagant houses (that are borderline mansions), we saw several older men and women taking walks alone, with friends, or with their dogs. According to Rick Steves’ Italy travel book, the average Gio or Italian is ‘43 years old, has 1.3 kids, and will live to the ripe old age of 80 (one in five Italians is older than 65). Every day, he or she consumes two servings of pasta, a half-pound of bread, and two glasses of wine.’ We must have seen nearly 20 Italians walking and pretty much all of them were older than 65. The older women that walked by us this morning all looked mostly the same to me. They had shortly cropped hair, usually curly with a short knit hat perched on top and very long, dark colored coats. The older men we saw all had very comical hats, some derby style and some like English top hats. Not a single elderly man I saw was without a hat. We saw very little of the younger generation until we reached the ferry station.

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Daddy spent virtually 45 minutes trying to buy us each a 3-day pass for the ferry. The woman who was our cashier looked very annoyed that she couldn’t get her point across. There was a discount rate for 14-19 year olds, but not a special rate for children under 14. So in the end, we purchased four 14-19 year old passes using our passports to show our ages and two adult 3-day passes for the ferry for €146,00. The ferry was just taking off as we arrived at the dock, so we had to wait another ten minutes for the next one, during which time I got another chance to people watch. The swaying dock was crowded with people yelling Italian and waving their hands, babies crying, men smoking (bleh), and newspapers flapping. Now that they were in public, the citizens were decked out in their Sunday best. All of the women, old and young, were in heels and long fur coats. If the coat was not entirely made of fur, it was lined with fur and if it was not lined with fur, it had fur on the collar, hood, and/or cuffs. I guess Italians like fur. The men dressed mostly the same as they do walking the streets of their neighborhoods, with the exception of the ferry crewmen. They had on uniforms, but had relaxed the starched coat with rolled up sleeves. When the ferry pulled up, a ferryman threw a rope around a rod attaching the boat to the dock. There still was a gap in between the dock and the boat, but as people leaped across the gap onto the boat, I remembered this was not America and they were not going to waste time putting up a ramp.

We managed to get two rows seated together and trying to ignore the stares clearly directed at our casual wear, looked out the window or read the ferry’s English version travel brochure. We got off at the San Marco Square stop and were greeted by a wave of chaos, crowd, and beautiful sites. We had to hold onto each other and push our way off the boat to get off. These Italians are stubborn and if you don’t push, they won’t move. We were immediately engulfed by the crowd and fought to find our way. A large white stone building loomed above us. The windows were gothic style and the carvings on the walls were amazingly beautiful. Doge’s Palace, Daddy shouted above the crowd (that’s not very hard for him since he is 6 foot 4 and a half); we might get a tour of that in the next few days. (A palace for the duke. The duke was the top dog in Venice and the surrounding areas until 1797.) We had seen several abandoned stone grey palaces when driving through France yesterday, but this one was the most beautiful I had seen yet.

Suddenly, a pink rose was thrust between Caitlin’s and my face. Desiderate acquistare una rosa, signoras?? I shook my head ‘no’ and Caitlin said, Grazie, no. We rushed on, dodging the fearless Italian pigeons. Another building came into view. The San Marco Basilica has once golden onion shaped domes and its balcony was crowded with viewers. On our left was the bell tower. I remember going to Italy at Disneyworld’s Epcot Center and seeing their replica of the tower. I had asked a worker what it was and she had told me, The bell tower in San Marco Square in Venice. And here I was. Soon, we were weaving through columns and around the white and red striped caution tape surrounding a large area where a construction crew was cleaning up the leftovers from Venice’s version of Carnevale. Confetti filled the cracks in the sidewalks all over the square. After getting information at the tourist center from a woman who shouted every word, we walked back to the dock to catch another ferry to tour the islands. The woman at the desk had informed us that the ferry workers were going on strike tomorrow, so we decided to ride the ferry today, visiting the surrounding islands, sightseeing through Venice, and traveling up the Grand Canal.

Our first stop was at the island of Murano. The island is filled with shops that make and sell the world famous Venetian glass. We started at a shop that gives free demonstrations. The man first created a clear glass vase and then a very detailed rearing glass horse. The detail was excruciating and he did it so quickly that it took me a while to realize it was over. For those of you, who don’t know how these beautiful pieces of glass are made; hold on, I will go into detail very soon. (I also took videos which will be uploaded to our photo page soon.) We window-shopped along the shore of the island and then, passing the ferry station, continued up the island along a side canal. We passed on a shop that charged three Euros for each person to see the glass be made, but allowed free admission into the shop and continued on to another.

This shop was very spacious and warm. As we came in, the glassmakers were just starting a piece and so we stayed to watch the whole process. One man had a pole stuck in an opening were we could see an orange glow from within. This was the furnace. On the right side of the furnace, one man would stick a long pole into an opening. When he pulled it out, the pole had a clear bulge of hot liquid glass. The other man took the pole to a flat table and rolled it into a cylinder shape. While it was rolling, it had cooled and so the first man stuck it back into the furnace, this time on the left side, to heat it up. Then, the second man took the pole and rolled it out and blew into it to create a shape like a vase. But, he didn’t stop there. After it was heated again, he opened the vase’s mouth until it was a wide circle. He swung it around in the air to perfect the shape and by the time it cooled, the shape of the lampshade was complete. After heating it once more, he rolled it in glass beads and then swung it around, reheated it, rolled it, and reheated it until the colorful glass beads had melted and blended into the glass lampshade, making it look as if it had been painted with many different colors. Then, the man who had done most of the work shouted in Italian, Finire di fare qualcosa. And then in broken English, All done. Finish.

We left and walked further up the canal looking in the windows of the shops. Some favorites among the blown glass art pieces that we saw were the clowns with large, round bellies and big red noses, small birds perched in a tree, ladybugs crawling on a log, bracelets and necklaces with glass beads, and little characters being teachers, nurses, policemen, and gondola drivers. We crossed over a bridge that curved over the canal and saw flowers in the windowsill of a salmon colored house. But as we drew closer, we realized that these flowers were actually glass flowers. We pulled out the cameras and then walked back to the dock and waited for the ferry. We got fairly good seats indoors near the windows, which was a plus. The ferry took off, recklessly bumping into the dock as it went. After the ferry stopped at some other stops, (it is like a waterbus complete with long advertisements above the windows like on Muni), enough people had left that we were able to sit together near the windows. This was perfect timing, for after the next stop we entered the Grand Canal. We rode all the way up and then started working our way down, with Daddy reading descriptions from his Italy guidebook.

The Grand Canal is Venice’s ‘Main Street.’ At more than two miles long, nearly 150 feet wide, and nearly 15 feet deep, the Grand Canal is the city’s largest, lined with its most impressive palaces … Venice is a city of palaces, dating from the days when it was the world’s richest city. The most lavish palaces formed a grand chorus line along the Grand Canal. Once frescoed in reds and blues, with black and white borders and gold-leaf trim, they made Venice a city of dazzling color … Many of the grand buildings are now vacant. Others harbor chandeliered elegance above mossy, empty (often flooded) ground floors. We passed many of these palaces, very ancient looking ones. Many of them had the winged lion of San Marco (or St. Mark) incorporated into the exterior design. We reached a part in the canal that was the most common place to see a gondola and ferry collide. Thankfully, we didn’t see this happen. As we reached the mouth of the Grand Canal where it opened up into the Mediterranean Sea, there were two churches with onion domes on top. The sun was just setting and it was so peaceful with the water lapping and the orange shine of the setting sun glistening on the waves. I almost forgot to take a picture.

We rode the rest of the way to Lido just looking out. Once we reached Lido, we got off and walked a short distance home. Mom and all of the kids made dinner while Daddy napped (he had gotten up much earlier than the rest of us and was tired). We woke him up for a dinner of leftovers from last night’s Italian dinner out, baguette bread and Mom’s spaghetti made entirely from Italian store bought goods (meaning that all of the directions on how to cook everything were also in Italian). It was quite an enjoyable meal. Then, we brought out the frozen Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies that Mom brought over the Atlantic to share with us (quite a generous offer on her part) and had a taste of America after all of this foreign food. We stayed up a little later than usual, typing up blogs and planning ahead for future countries. Then, we headed to our colorful beds, with the odd shaped mattresses and the extremely firm pillows, but despite the strangeness of our sleeping situation, went right to sleep after a full and exhausting day.

Day 259 – Venice, Italy (by Abby)

Friday, March 11, 2011

Today we survived a transportation strike, a suspected robbery, getting lost in the maze of Venice, and merciless bombers overhead. Well, that might be exaggerating a little bit. The transportation strike didn’t affect us too much; there was still transportation between Venice and Venice Lido, where we are staying. The suspected robbery turned out to be a bit of forgetfulness, but I’ll tell you more about that later. When we got lost, well… that turned out okay because if you follow along a street long enough you either hit a dead end or a canal, which can lead a person to the Grand Canal, the main street of Venice. Getting lost was also okay because we got to see lots of great sights that no other tourist has probably ever seen in their life. Our tour book actually told us to get lost, in order to see the real Venice, which we did on accident. The bombers are also known as pigeons and seagulls, which rule San Marcos Square and seem to like sending their waste down on people’s heads. However, despite some near misses, no bombs landed directly upon us.

Anyway, our adventurous time began at the abnormal time (at least in Europe) of 8:00 when we were awakened by Mom and sent on our morning routines. While the girls rotated through the shower after breakfast, the others had their quiet times, packed and prepared for the day. We left for Venice at the time that we woke up yesterday and caught a large boat, the only boat available due to the strike, heading to Venice. We disembarked at San Marcos Square, the home of the great San Marcos Basilica, San Marcos Bell Tower, and the Doge’s (or Duke’s) Palace. First we headed to the San Marcos Square Museum and bought tickets that were good until the end of April. Here in Venice, public restrooms cost about €1,50, which is equal to about two dollars. This is for one use, one person. (Just a bit of a lesson in European money. They trade commas for decimal points and decimal points for commas. If something is 1,000 Euros, it would be written: €1.000. If something costs 1.50 Euros, it would be written €1,50.) We figured that it would cost about €45 for all of us to go to the bathroom if we all used it several times over the course of one day. Figuring that, we resolved to use our home bathroom and free bathrooms, such as in cafés or at museums, as much as possible. Since these tickets were good for so long, a person with one of these tickets could have access to free restrooms as often as they want, without paying extra money. We used these free restrooms first before going through the rooms of the museum.

The first of these rooms displayed artifacts and pieces of art that demonstrated Venetian culture. The rest of the rooms displayed a variety of Renaissance art. There were rooms that displayed statues, rooms that displayed maps or paintings, and other rooms that just displayed themselves, with frescoes, chandeliers, fancy furniture and spectacular ceiling and wall paintings. One room we visited had a collection of coins minted in Venice that dated to each year from 814 to 1789. Some other rooms we visited had beautiful pieces of art in them, but even more beautiful was the chandelier above them. Two of the chandeliers were about the size of a dining room table. They were made in Murano, and the detail was so exquisite with the flowers, leaves, branches that I just gaped upward instead of admiring the rest of the art. Soon our stomachs were rumbling and we went outside to a nearby park to eat some delicious Italian baguettes, Wheat Thin crackers, cheese, carrots and apples.

After lunch we checked our bags at the free bag check and then lined up for the Basilica. Luckily the line wasn’t too long and we were in the San Marcos Basilica without too long a wait. We pulled out our iPods and listened to the Rick Steves’ audio tour that we had downloaded. He took us around the Basilica and pointed out many things along the way. Everything was a mosaic, the floor had many different shapes, and the ceilings and wall held pictures that told biblical stories. The first thing that he told us to look at was a mosaic that told the story of Noah’s Ark. It was made in the 12th century. It was made to have a clear story in pictures so that the peasants could read the story through the pictures. He then led us to the altar and directed our eyes first to the ceiling, then to the altar, the floor, and then the side wall. We learned that San Marcos meant St. Mark. The story was that Mark’s bones were in Alexandria, Egypt, where he had died. In 828, two Venetian merchants stole the remains of Saint Mark. According to legend, the Venetians hid the remains in a barrel under layers of pork to hide them from the Muslim guards. When they came back to Venice, they transformed the chapel of the Doge into this huge Basilica as a final resting place for St. Mark. Supposedly, when the construction was finished, they could not remember where they had put the remains. All of Venice came into the Basilica to pray for help. People started suggesting places that it might be. Then someone opened a hollow marble column, and, voi la, there were the remains. This story was also depicted in a mosaic.

After admiring the rest of the Basilica, we went back to the museum to kill some time, use the restrooms, and walk through the Archeological Part. Slabs of stone made in Ancient Greece fascinated me and Dad loved the Colossus Foot, a marble foot that was absolutely huge. Maybe he liked it because his own foot looked small next it, I really don’t know. We picked up our bags and headed to La Boutique del Gelato, the best gelato place in town. On any other day we could have ridden on one of the canal boats, but due to the strike we had to walk. On the way we got lost.

You have to understand that Venice does not have cars. It has no room for cars. There are streets (the size of sidewalks) and plazas (the size of streets) and squares (the size of plazas). There are also parks (the size of squares, such as Time Square). Some of the alley ways are barely wide enough for one person to walk through. Dad led us through streets and across bridges and then through streets and across bridges. Finally we found the Gelato place after passing it three times. Mom and I ordered rich chocolato gelatos and Lindsey ordered Nutella gelato with hazelnuts and chocolate chunks. Ben ordered lemon and Caitlin chose stracciatella, chocolate shavings in vanilla gelato. Daddy was ordering a vanilla cherry gelato when he found that he had no cash. The kids were outside enjoying our gelatos when Dad rushed out and went down the street. Mom came out and, in answer to our frantic questions says, Dad thinks he was robbed.

Now you have to understand what was going through my head. My panicked thought process went something like this: Oh no, we’re bankrupt. Now we’re going to have to be stranded here in Venice and I’ll never see my friends again. I’m probably dramatic, but my fears vanished when I learned that one, Mom had her wallet but no cash, and, two, Dad had his wallet but also had no cash. Mom did not find it very probable that somebody would take Dad’s wallet out of his front pocket, take out the cash and put it back, but you could never know. We finished our gelatos and hung around until Dad came back from the bank. However, he hadn’t been able to get cash as he had withdrawn our daily amount that morning. He had bought a knife with his credit card hoping to get cash back, but that didn’t work either. Finally he remembered that he had emptied his cash from his wallet this morning for safekeeping and forgot to put it back. After explaining this to the Gelato lady, he promised to return tomorrow to pay our debt. I’m excited about that as that means some more yummy gelatos for us all!!

Happy that we were not bankrupt, we found our way to the Rialto Bridge, a very famous bridge that stretches over the Grand Canal. In the middle of the bridge are tons of shops, but from the side of the bridge we were able to have a spectacular view of the Grand Canal. We took some pictures and then went down the bridge. We tried looking for a phone store so that we could get a SIM card, but it turned out that the store our GPS led us to, did not exist anymore so we took the long route back to the ferry terminal, seeing more of the real Venice. Finally we found the ferry terminal and caught a boat back to Venice Lido.

We walked home and unpacked, doing various activities until dinnertime. After a delicious Italian dinner (pasta, bread and salad) we had crostoli, an Italian thin pastry with powdered sugar on top. I thought it was funny that the average Italian has two servings of pasta, two glasses of wine and a half-pound of bread per day. It’s the truth! For the rest of the evening we read, started learning languages and figuring out what we want to do in the rest of Europe, got ready for bed, and then headed to bed, a pretty calm ending to an adventurous day.

Day 260 – Venice, Italy (by Caitlin)

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Our morning was unusually but pleasantly slow. Before our parents woke us kids up, Mom showered, and then Dad removed Mom’s stitches on the back of her neck where she had a mole removed. Then they woke us up, at around almost ten-o-clock. Abby woke up today and announced loudly that she had been dreaming in Italian. Wow! What an authentic experience for her. We made our beds and had Italian Cheerios, Italian blood oranges, and 100% Italian milk for breakfast. After breakfast, we read a page from our Christian History daily devotions book, and then watched some Internet footage on the Japanese earthquake and tsunami and, as a family, prayed for the Japanese people.

Next, Lindsey showered, and then I endured a miserably freezing cold shower. This morning, our toilet started continually running, and somehow this caused the water heater to malfunction. So Abby’s shower was put off for later in the day.

We relaxed and lounged around for a while, reading and having quiet times. Next, we prepared to leave, walked down to the ‘laguna’, and hopped onto a ‘vaporetto’, one of those bus boats which so efficiently transport us to the real Venezia.

Soon, we arrived at San Marcos to visit the Palazzo Ducale, the Duke’s Palace. Before entering, we examined the decorations on the seventh pillar from the right, which tells the story of the birth and death of a child. The intricate granite carvings showed the couple meeting, the couple falling in love, the couple marrying, the couple sleeping together, the couple with their newborn baby, the couple holding the baby’s hands, and the couple mourning the baby’s death. It was quite the interesting pillar!

Upon entrance to the Duke’s Palace, we put our backpacks in the ‘guardaroba’ (the cloak room) and began our tour with the Golden Staircase, which led to the Duke’s apartments. We learned that the Doge had no influence or power, but that he was just a status symbol, someone who was significant and rich representing all of Venice to the world. Next came the Institutional Chambers, all beautifully decorated rooms with various purposes for serving the government. Every part of these rooms was amazing, elaborate, impressive, and opulent. From floor to ceiling, the Institutional Chambers were decked out in glory. One room’s function was not memorable, but the ceiling was. In fact it was my favorite ceiling, because it had everything in terms of decoration – vaults, statues, hand-painted frescoes. We had seen each of these decorations separately, but never all amassed in a single ceiling.

Our visit continued on to the Prisons. We explored what seemed like endless cells, walked down dark, dank hallways, and climbed narrow stairways to even more prison cells. Somehow, we followed one arrow correctly, and then all the other arrows pointed back the other way. So we explored part of the dungeon backwards and then saw the same interesting stuff on the way back out, this time following the arrows correctly. It was fun getting somewhat lost in the scary dungeon. Rick Steve’s Guide to Italy recommends getting lost in Venice, as lost as possible. We accomplished this goal and thoroughly enjoyed it, as he promised we would.

After the prisons, we found our way to the Bridge of Sighs, which connects two wings of the Doge’s Palace. Supposedly, a condemned man would be led over this bridge on his way to the prison, take one last look at the glory of Venice, and sigh before going into the dark depths of the dungeon. A local legend says that lovers will be assured eternal love if they kiss on a gondola at sunset under the bridge. As we looked out like so many prisoners had done, we saw people taking pictures of us, or at least of the windows we were looking through. We realized that the bridge we could see from inside the Bridge of Sighs was the bridge we had crossed every day here on our way to San Marco Piazza (St. Mark’s Square).

Signs in the Doge’s Palace then led us to the Giant’s Staircase, before ending our formal self-guided tour. Upon completion of the ordinary tour, we decided to explore more on our own, finding, among others, a gondola out of water, which reminded Mom of an Amish buggy, and rooms full of granite columns and other decorations.

When we finally left the Doge’s Palace, we walked along the ‘laguna’ and found a white granite bench, where we sat down for a snack-ish meal. We couldn’t decide whether it was lunch or dinner, because it was already four-o-clock. For dessert at the conclusion of our snack-ish meal, we tried some yummy Marias that we had purchased in Texas and still had not even opened. They were large, circular, cracker-looking cookies – crunchy, sweet, and very delicious. The Marias reminded us somewhat of large, stale Nilla wafers.

Next, we crossed St. Mark’s Square to the ‘Museo Correr’, where we had been two times before. We only had the four rooms on the second story to finish, but they were approaching closing time, so they did not want to let us in. The attendant spoke Italian, French, and Spanish, but very little English. Daddy’s Spanish helped explain what we wanted, and we were permitted entry, only to find that the second story was closed. So instead, we visited the restrooms, which had been our true motive all along. Here in Venice, most public restrooms charge €1.50 for one entry. So for our entire family of six to use a public restroom once would cost our family €9, which amounts to approximately $12. For this reason, we choose to use free public restrooms whenever possible.

Anyway, once the ‘Museo Correr’ closed, we went back to the vaporetto and rode it through the Grand Canal to the ‘Puento di Rialto’ – Rialto Bridge. We walked the narrow pedestrian-friendly streets back to the gelato shop purely by Mom’s memory. She can never forget how to get to her ice cream, even if it’s actually Italian gelato. Our second try at gelato, after repaying yesterday’s debt, was fun and delicious. We had the money this time. After finishing off our sticky and sweet desserts, we explored the shops along the Rialto Bridge.

Then we wandered through the old buildings on the other side of the Grand Canal to