Venetian Death March — With Luggage!

While we certainly didn’t plan to lose any weight while on vacation, it would have been in Venice where it happened. Because that’s where Karen and I nearly killed ourselves hauling children and luggage across the island to our apartment.

DSC01850We quickly lost track of the stairs we had to climb — and then descend — but let’s just say I would rather have carried Felicia up the 463 steps of the Duomo in Florence than pulled our bags across canals, through narrow allies, around slow-moving tourists, and through flocks of birds. You can imagine our additional joy upon unlocking our apartment door to find our berth was on the third floor. We let the bags settle for a bit, while we peeled off our sweat-soaked clothes.

Of course, that was only the beginning. We had to leave, too.

For our departure, we worked out this elaborate scheme where we would hire a Gondola close to our apartment for a romantic one-way cruise (with luggage) to the Water Taxi Stand near the Rialto Bridge. At least, that was the plan.

Although we did avoid having to carry our bags up and down the bridge, we weren’t close enough to the Taxi to avoid steps entirely. We had a short lunch at the Academy area — preceded by an ill-fated effort to catch a taxi at that bridge — and then lifted our bags over two sets of steps to get to the Taxi.

While we made it, our luggage did not fare so well. Our ten-year-old rolling duffel — which had gallantly served us in previous trips to Turkey, The Philippines, China (twice), Lake Tahoe, Milwaukee, and St. John — blew a tire during the first walk to the apartment, clattering loudly the entire way. It slowly lost additional pieces on our way out of town. And while Felicia was intent on gathering the chunks as a souvenir, the wheel is now beyond repair. Not to be outdone, one of the wheels on the smaller rolling tote split as we were nearing our final destination in the Venetian Airport.