Highlights Cruise Day 11- Chioggia (Venice)
This was the final port arrival of the cruise: Barcelona to Venice. Chioggia (“kee-ODD-juh”) is at the southern edge of the Venetian lagoon. The ship had to moor far from the main islands for wake control. It was a ninety-minute water bus, not taxi, trip from the main island. It’s not a “taxi” if it accommodates 100 people (even clown cars can’t do that). The round trip lasted longer than the Venice excursion, “At a Glance: St. Mark’s Square,” but it’s necessary to keep Venice above the water (usually). My fingers did not do well in the cold, wet weather (more of a lowlight).
Notable Items
The guides provided steady background chatter on the 90-minute water bus trip to Venice. Between engine noises (water buses have BIG engines), guides speaking as if sound amplification were just a louder way to speak face-to-face (it isn’t), and conversing passengers trying to be heard over everyone else in an enclosed space, the running commentary was only chatter for me.
Water taxi chatter by guides may be one of those things organizations do because people expect it (or they think people expect them to) even though it doesn’t work (like baseball caps with their bills forward producing better bar patron behavior, as if). Like Arran’s remark about jogging direction protocol on the second deck of the Mars, perhaps no one has actually thought about it.
Docking at the piers northeast of St. Mark’s Square was like “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga” with boats fighting for pier space to unload. The only rule seemed to be that there were no rules.
There are guidelines for tour group movement in Venice. These seemed more like suggestions than rules, which is what you get when there isn’t enforcement. The guidelines are designed to make the lives of Venetians slightly less miserable as they daily negotiate the realities of living in a theme park. Single file in alleys and crossing bridges (our group was terrible just like all the others). I thought the real risk was getting an eye poked out from umbrella tips. I was surprised there weren’t rules for those.
Venice does enforce the required Venice access ticket, a QR-coded permission slip required to visit on some days. Viking staff provided this before the water bus docked with stern warnings to keep them accessible, not deep in a backpack. Ours were checked.
The tour of St. Mark’s Square consisted of exteriors with commentary, which is all that can be accomplished within the “at a glance” model. I did a lot of glancing, but no picture taking. First, exterior pictures in a drizzle look as bad as it feels to be outside walking around in one. Second, my fingers were too cold to function. I can push buttons with fingers that feel like someone replaced mine with chopsticks, but I can’t easily get the phone out of my pocket and ready for button pushing. Finally, umbrellas blocked the view of any buildings that weren’t towers, like the rebuilt-after-it-fell-over-in-1902 Campanile di San Marco. Sudden collapse of twelfth century structures is a thing in Venice. Perhaps inevitable, but, like your death, you don’t want to be there when it happens.
Post umbrella tour of the square, our Korean guide (she came to Venice for school and never left) mercifully took us inside for coffee. This required more walking because everyone else in Venice had the same idea. I ordered a latte and held the glass in my hands longer than I spent drinking it. Heat restored some functionality to my fingers and was safer than a blow torch. I brought hand warmers on the trip, but they were where you would expect an idiot to leave them before wandering around in cold rain for three hours!
During and after the tour, I looked after a couple who had some mobility challenges. These enhanced the challenge of narrow bridges and navigating cruise ship hordes. Their experience was even more challenging because generally they had no idea where they were (geolocation challenged).
I started looking after them on the water bus, when I heard the woman ask her husband, “How am I going to manage that narrow brow?” I gave her my Irish bus driver assurance, “Don’t worry, I’ll look after ya.” After coffee, I said I knew how to get back to the meeting point so she could return to St. Mark’s Square for pictures (she was blocked by umbrellas too). Her husband looked dubious, but went along with it.
As we walked from the square back to the boat landing, I noticed the woman seemed wobbly carrying her daypack in her hands. I took it from her so she could focus on staying upright. If she had fallen, I don’t think I could have found her amidst the throngs. Her husband didn’t say anything, but did take it back from me twice (and gave it back to his wife, go figure!).
The husband continued to eye me warily, possibly not so confident I would get them back. I assured him, “I’ve got this.” We arrived at the gathering place with five minutes to spare. I would have made it sooner, but the woman stopped several times for pictures.
Viking provided baggage service for passengers for departure the following day. People who wanted their steamer trunks on wheels transferred to the terminal needed to put them outside their staterooms by 10pm. I didn’t need any help with my carryon size bag. Returning to my room from listening to live music in the lounge was unsettling. I caught glimpses of people wearing strange clothes and shirtless men pushing their bags into the passageway. Some people should never be shirtless in public.