After the most entertaining train ride of my entire life Friday evening, me and five other tutors arrived in Mestra, a small town outside Venice, or as the locals call it, Venezia. We spent the night in an economically priced hostel and stayed up sharing past experiences and philosophising about life and handshakes. We awoke at six a.m. to a typical Italian breakfast, which consists of biscotti and café (which is totally not the bacon, eggs, waffle, and cereal I normally gorge upon in the mornings at home, and I'm still adjusting after three weeks), and rode a bus for ten minutes before arriving in the sinking city. I have not heard so much English spoken since leaving JFK International. Tourists galore. Though we were no exception with Demetra and Nicole sporting hoodies boasting "I heart Venezia" and "ITALIA" respectively. Not to mention Charlotte leading the way in her Captain's hat. We totally blended in.
The churches moved me. I knelt. I prayed. I cried.
We also happened upon a free art exhibit displaying original musical scores by Antonio Vivaldi and various string instruments from 800 to 1700. One was titled "violina minuté con tromba" and was literally a violin with a horn extruding from its body. One piano had the strings extending out of the side so as to enable the musician extra control over pitch and timbre while also giving the option of plucking instead of striking. I felt like I was in an M.C. Escher painting of musical instruments.
The whole city was beautiful. Oh, and Bobo, I totally have your wedding present.
No comments:
Post a Comment