Though Kris slept soundly on the train from Rome to Paris, I did not. I woke at 21:00 in Florence, around midnight in another Italian city, at 06:00 in Lausanne, Switzerland, and again permanently at 07:30 on the outskirts of France. None of my sleep was restful.

A foggy morning outside Paris as our train stands idle on the tracks

For unknown reasons — though possibly because of strikes, which we had to contend with during our entire stay in France — our train was two hours late arriving in Paris. Today was my turn to be tense. I was tired, hungry, and disoriented, and there were too many people around.

When we left the train station at Gare de Lyon, we quickly found the nearby subway stop, but we were puzzled for a bit by the process for buying tickets. This was made worse by the crowds, our luggage, the lack of a chip-and-PIN credit card — and the drunk man trying to sell us discount metro tickets. (Turns out his tickets were legit and a good deal, but I wasn’t willing to take the risk.)

Map of the Paris train system — the Metro (subway) and RER (commuter line). Click to enlarge.

Without too much hassle, we found our way to the Hotel Muguet near Rue Cler. (Our Metro stop was École Militaire on the 8 train.) Rue Cler is a quiet, traditional Parisian street that’s been popularized by Rick Steves through his television show and guidebooks. It made a good “home base” during our stay in Paris.

Kris, next to a column of macaroons

We ate lunch at Tribeca, an Italian place on Rue Cler, then dove into France. We bought two-day tickets for the red double-decker hop-on/hop-off tour buses, which we took through the heart of the city. (Well, the heart of the tourist portions, anyhow.)

The Eiffel Tower as seen during our bus tour

These bookstalls are common on both banks of the Seine, and have been since the 1500s

While interesting, this bus ride took forever, in part because we went during rush hour, and in part because Paris has some of the worst traffic I’ve ever seen.

After the tour, it was already getting late. We took a brief walk through Rue Cler and the surrounding neighborhood before choosing to eat dinner at a small bistro. We both had the delicious boeuf bourguignon.

At breakfast, we said good-bye to the other members of the Rick Steves tour group that we’d been traveling with for the past ten days and set out on our own. We left our bags at the hotel while we headed out for a day trip — with no guide!

We took the Metro A train to the Termini Station, then made the long walk to transfer to the B train, which took us to the Piramide stop. From there, we took a 30-minute ride on the commuter train to Ostia Antica. (The Rick Steves guidebook says that it’s a sixty-minute trip from downtown Rome to Ostia Antica, but it took us ninety.)

For much of the trip, Kris was tense. After ten days having a guide directing most of our moves, suddenly we were on our own again, having to figure out train schedules and transfers. She didn’t like that we didn’t have definite answers to our questions as we made our way. But you know what? It all worked out just fine!

Ancient sign near the entrance to the city

In the graveyard at Ostia Antica

All trip, Kris and I craved cats. This cat at Ostia was very friendly.

Ostia was the harbor city of the ancient Roman empire. (Antica just means “ancient”.) For over a thousand years, Ostia was a thriving city. But in time, it fell into decay. Eventually, they city was abandoned, and slowly covered by sediment from the River Tiber. The ruins have been recovered now, and this little-known site is now considered a better example of an ancient Roman city than Pompeii.

There were few Americans at Ostia Antica, but there were tons of German tourists in the ruins. (I actually found them more annoying than Americans!) We did meet one woman from Houston, though. She told us she tries to come to Europe once every year, and has been doing so for 25 years. I got the impression she was fairly well-off, but she also talked about how she makes sacrifices in other areas of her life so that she can travel. (This was a common refrain from fellow travelers, by the way.)

Roman latrine at Ostia Antica. Note the lower hole, which is space for a “sponge on a stick”.

I could do a whole post on the hilarious English we saw in Europe, especially in museums

After touring the ruins, we took the train back to Rome, where we ate a large lunch (cheese plate, steak with salt and rosemary, and a liter of wine), then collected our bags and returned to the Termini Station. There, we spent a few hours on the platform, waiting for our train to Paris. I wandered the station, reveling in the feel of it all.

Our train trip was mostly uneventful — it grew dark soon after we left Rome, which saddened me. I wanted to watch the countryside go by.

Again, Kris was tense. She was unsettled by the unfamiliar situation, and full of uncertainty. It made her crazy! (“I think they forgot to turn our beds down!” “How will we know where to get off?” Etc.)

During the night, I woke as we passed through Florence, and then again in the early morning as we stopped at the platform in Lausanne, Switzerland. But when I woke for good, we were in France…

This morning, our group took the subway to the Ottaviano station before walking the rest of the way to the Vatican museum. I have to admit, I wasn’t looking forward to seeing more religious art, but the Vatican was actually pretty neat — the Catholic church has stolen a lot of great art in its time.

The glowing ceiling of the Vatican’s map room (photo by Kris)

Not all of the art here was confiscated from conquered peoples, though. There are also some great works commissioned from Great Masters. There are rooms upon rooms (two miles of rooms, I think our tour guide Sarah told us) filled with sculptures, paintings, frescoes, maps, tapestries, and more. Kris was especially enamored with the tile floors.

Kris was obsessed with the Vatican’s tile floors. This is my favorite of the many shots she took.

Touring the Vatican — and fighting the crowds — made me realize just how rich and powerful the Catholic church has been throughout history. Catholicism has played almost zero role in my life, so sometimes I forget how big it actually is. (I’m convinced they could eliminate world poverty if they’d just liquidate a portion of their art collection.)

At the end of our tour, we reached the Sistine Chapel, which was both more and less impressive than I expected. It’s amazing to see Michelangelo’s masterpiece in person, but it was also a bit garish (as apparently most Renaissance art was) and over-the-top.

While in the Sistine Chapel, neither photos nor talking were allowed. Everyone was doing both anyhow. The docents tried in vain to keep order. Most folks snuck a picture or two, and the whispers were like the hum of bees. That was fine. One member of our group (Wes) got kicked out, though, because he was blatantly taking photos even after being asked to stop.

After the Sistine Chapel, Kris and I joined Phil and Joy for a tour of St. Peter’s Basilica, the largest church in the world. We saw two mummified popes (not kidding!) and Michelangelo’s beautiful Pieta. The latter was difficult to photograph because of the crowds and because it lives behind bullet-proof glass. This photo was taken by holding my camera overhead and trying to stay steady:

Michelangelo’s Pieta, which lives behind bullet-proof glass

Next, we paid €7 each — and dodged a group of Japanese tourists who were trying to barge to the head of the line — to climb to the top of the dome above St. Peter’s Basilica and get snapshots of Rome. We climbed about 320 steps, and by the end, my left knee (which isn’t even my bum knee) was killing me.

Inside the dome of St. Peter’s, looking down (photo by Kris)

Joy and Phil, climbing the steps to the top of St. Peter’s

Phil and Joy, atop St. Peter’s Basilica (with Rome in the distance)

Joy and Kris attempt to keep St. Peter’s from falling over. Phil and I take photos.

The four of us then looked for a place to eat north of the Vatican. The first place we tried was gouging tourists. They wanted €14 for a half liter of the house wine (most places charged €8 to €12 for a liter of the stuff!), and their food prices were outrageous too. We got up and left, walking a few blocks until we found a pizza rustica place. The owner was a bit surly, but Kris and I managed to get two slices of pizza and a bottle of wine for just €17.

After taking the subway back to the Repubblica stop, we joined the Gussmans to visit two churches near our hotel:

• Santa Maria della Vittoria, which contains what Joy calls “church porn” — a statue called the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.
• Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri, which contains an amazing sundial/meridian devised by a guy named Francesco Bianchini in 1702. It also contains an enormous pipe organ. Though Rick Steves only gives this place one star, we liked it. It was a science-y church!

Church porn: The Ecstasy of St. Teresa at Santa Maria della Vittoria

Before dinner, we joined Phil and Joy in their room to finish their bottle of grappa, which I’d always thought was Greek but is actually Italian.

The tour group then met for a farewell dinner, eating at a place called Ristorante del Giglio. The food was okay, but the conversation was better. It was a fitting conclusion to a fine trip.

After dinner, some of us hung around at the Snack Bar (that’s the name of the place!) across the street from our hotel. Kim, Joy, Phil, Kris, and I munched on snacks (I had a final gelato) while talking with Sarah about life as a tour guide.

After a standard breakfast, our tour group caught the Metro, riding from the Repubblica station (near our hotel) to the Cavour station. Some folks — including me — were a little on edge because the U.S. State Department had issued a travel alert warning of possible terrorist attacks on mass transit in major European cities. It was big news this morning. But, fortunately, nothing happened.

At the Cavour stop, we met Francesca, our local tour guide (and something of a celebrity to Rick Steves die-hards). Francesca’s English was outstanding (her father was Italian, but her mother American), and she didn’t drone on and on like our local guide in Florence. She was sharp and witty, and had a real depth of knowledge and passion for her subject: ancient Rome.

First, Francesca took us to the Basilica di San Clemente. The current church of San Clemente is interesting by itself in that the frescoes on its walls depict the (mythical) life and death of Pope Saint Clement I.

What was really exciting about San Clemente, however, was that the current building is constructed atop not one, but two previous iterations of the same church. You can see all three levels, descending into the damp and dark, almost literally stepping back in time. It’s awesome to find yourself on actual streets of ancient Rome, forty feet below the surface. This was a highlight of our trip.

We took a quick break after viewing San Clemente, during which some of us bought produce from a local vendor. My mid-morning snack? A gigantic carrot — and a Coca-Cola Light. (Coke Light is the European equivalent of Diet Coke.)

Next, we got a whirlwind tour of the Colosseum, which Francesca says is not what the ancient Romans called it. (She says they simply called it the Amphitheater.) Our tour of this colossal structure seemed too brief. The scale of the thing was amazing, and I wanted to linger longer.

Kris and J.D., in front of the Colosseum (photo by Phil)

I liked looking down the tunnels into the Colosseum

We finished our tour of ancient Rome by strolling through the Roman Forum, the former city center. After Francesca left us, Kris and I climbed the Palatine Hill and walked among the ruins.

A ruin at the Roman Forum (I’ve forgotten what this is…)

It was already mid-afternoon, and the sky — which had been spitting at us all morning — threatened to open wide at any moment, so we dodged our way through Roman traffic toward the Pantheon. We stopped first, however, for a l-o-n-g and delicious lunch (during which we shared a liter of wine — which I mostly drank myself). Our meal was served by a young waiter who spoke seven languages. (His goal is to become a tour guide.)

We finished lunch at 16:00, then walked to the nearby Pantheon. The Pantheon was once a temple to the gods of ancient Rome, but as with many things in Italy, it was taken over by the Catholic church. I found it vastly disappointing. Though the concept is cool — a dome-shaped building built 2000 years ago to enshrine the gods of the day — its current form as a Catholic church is not nearly as awe-inspiring as I imagine the original must have been. Still, the inside is beautiful:

Kris and I spent the evening in our room. Though neither of us was really hungry, I picked up McDonald’s just for kicks. It was a mistake. The food is just as awful in Rome as it is back home.

The big event of the evening, though, was that Kevin Kelly (co-founder of Wired magazine and uber-geek) published a glowing review of my book, a review that was cross-posted to mega-blog Boing Boing. As a result, Your Money: The Missing Manual briefly vaulted into the Amazon top 100 list! Very, very exciting for me.

We woke a bit early to catch our bus from Florence to Rome. The bus climbed out of Florence into Umbria, the region south of Tuscany (which contains Florence) and north of Lazio (which contains Rome). I was eager to reach Rome because I wanted to attend a calcio (soccer) match at 15:00 between Lazio and Brescia at the Olympic Stadium. Alas, this was not to be.

Instead, we exited the autostrade (freeway) near Orvieto and climbed the hills into the Umbrian countryside. After half an hour of twisting and turning, we reached Poggio della Volara, an agriturismo set on a grape and olive orchard. An agriturismo is a farm that, with a subsidy from the Italian government, has converted part of its operations into what we might call a bed and breakfast. This program gives tourists a relaxed, slow-paced place to escape, while also providing a way for farms to stay in business.

Poggio della Volara is owned by Marco, who took some time to tell us about his farm:

The day was lovely. It was hazy and warm, with just a tinge of autumn in the air. Marco served us four wines produced by local vineyards, as well as a light lunch of bread, cheese, and meat. It was lovely, and well worth missing a calcio match.

Joy and Kris, tasting wine and sun

Though most of us would have rather stayed with Marco, the bus continued on. We reached Rome at 15:30, spent 90 minutes getting settled, then grouped for an evening stroll. We boarded the subway at the Repubblica stop (near our hotel) and ventured to the Spagna stop nar the Spanish Steps.

Sarah (our tour guide), demonstrating how the Roman fountains work

Sarah then led us to the Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon.

Wes, who always has his camera ready, trying to get a shot of the Trevi Fountain

Because it was Sunday, the Pantheon was closed. Our tour guide, Sarah, spent some time describing the construction of this amazing building. The ancient Romans built the Pantheon as a shrine to all of their gods. The current building was re-built by the Emperor Hadrian in about 126 A.D., and was eventually taken over by the Catholic Church, which ousted the Roman gods for the god of Christianity. The building is a near sphere (except that it doesn’t extend below the ground), and includes an occulus (or hole) in the ceiling that looks out to the sky.

Finally, we walked to our restaurant, the name of which escapes me. The food was good, but not great. That’s okay, though, because we enjoyed our dinner conversation. We sat with Joy and Phil again, but also with Cindy and Deno, who happen to live just a few miles from us here in Portland. (They live in Wilsonville.) Cindy and Deno both recently lost a lot of weight, and both have backgrounds in public education. They were interesting to talk with.

After dinner, we crossed the Tiber River to see the Castel Sant’Angelo. Most of the group then caught a bus back to the hotel. I wanted to walk &mash; I needed to stretch my legs. Plus, the weather was perfect, and I thought this would be a fun way to see the city.

Sarah seemed a little taken aback and initially tried to talk me out of it. “Do you know how far it is?” she asked. “It’ll take you two hours!” She warned me that Rome is huge and the streets confusing. She said I might get lost. But I was confident in my map, my sense of direction (it’s one of my super powers, remember?), and my sense of scale. I knew I could find my way back, and that I might even beat the bus if I hustled. The walk was lovely and liberating. And it only took 35 minutes. I arrived at the hotel just a few minutes after the rest of the group.

Looking down from the Spanish Steps at night

That night walk through Rome was one of the highlights of my trip. (Other highlights: the morning run in Venice, my solo walk through Paris, and the church of San Clemente, which I’ll talk about tomorrow.)

Our final full day in Florence was fun.

After breakfast, we marched down past the Uffizi Gallery to Piazza della Repubblica, where we met our local guide Luka again. He started the day by taking us to a typical Florentine palazzo (or palace), where he told us about some of the city’s history and described how the wealthy merchant class used to live. Because I was in a much better mood than the day before, I enjoyed his presentation.

The Palazzo Davanzati is the former home of a wealthy family of wool merchants. The house was built in 1516, and has managed to survive until today. It now serves as a museum demonstrating what a typical palazzo might have been like. I found the tour of this home much more interesting than that of Ca’ Rezzonico in Venice, mostly because the Palazzo Davanzati was decorated with real furnishings and art instead of having been turned into an art museum.

I was particularly fascinated by the art on the wall of one bedroom, which told the story of the Châtelaine de Vergy, an old French story of romance and courtly love. I think this is ripe for potential re-working for modern audiences.

The Ponte Vecchio (or “old bridge”) was built in 1345

We then crossed the River Arno along Via Maggio to Piazza San Spirito and the church there. The group stopped to eat, but Kris and I struck out on our own. We spent 30 minutes searching for the entrance to a large walled garden nearby, but failed, so we headed back downtown to find lunch.

We eventually settled on a hole-in-the-wall place that turned out to have fine food. We were entertained by the three men at the next table, who conversed effortlessly in four languages (Italian, Spanish, English, and German), often switching tongues in the middle of a sentence! They each ordered a gigantic bistecca alla Fiorentina (Florentine steak, which is essentially a T-bone or Porterhouse). Together, the three of them finished two liters of the house red wine. Plus they ate salads and bread. All of this for lunch.

After lunch, we toured the Bargello, which is a former prison now turned into an art museum that primarily houses sculptures. Kris and I both learned that we find great sculptures much more compelling than great paintings. They seem much more difficult to create.

Also during the day, we paused to look at a variety of markets. As I’ve mentioned already, Italian cities are filled with markets, much like the farmers markets we have here in the U.S. These are held every day, though. (Or nearly every day.)

Flowers for sale at a craft market in Florence, Italy

You can buy all sorts of leather goods in Florence — Kris and I bought belts!

Plus, there are tiny little shops scattered throughout Italian (and French) cities. These single-purpose shops aren’t like those in the U.S. Here we have “one-stop shopping” supermarkets. And while supermarkets are slowly gaining ground in France and Italy, most shops are still focused on one thing: bread, pastries, gelato, produce, wine, whatever. Here’s a tiny little store that sells only produce and wine, for example:

This tiny market (which only sold wine and produce) was typical of those we saw in Italy

This is very typical of the shops we saw on this trip to Europe.

Gelato shops are also very common in Italy. These are like tiny neighborhood ice cream stands, except they sell gelato. What is gelato? It’s essentially ice cream, but with a few key differences.

• Gelato has less butterfat than ice cream, which means the flavors (strawberry, chocolate, whatever) are more prominent.
• Gelato is denser (or thicker) than ice cream because it doesn’t have any air added to it.
• Gelato is served warmer than ice cream, which means it melts more quickly.

In many ways, gelato seems like home-made ice cream. I actually prefer gelato to commercial ice cream (and I think Kris does too). Really, though, I’m a sucker for both, and they’re both bad for my diet!

Kris ordering gelato, something we did once a day in Italy.

After a quick pitstop back at Hotel Silla, Kris and I strolled along the River, watching the crowds of locals and tourists.

Life is good in Florence — that’s the Ponte Vecchio in the background

We made our way to the Piazza della Signoria, where we met our tour group for dinner. As we waited, we listened to a street musician playing the guitar.

The street musicians were very organized. This fellow was a little late leaving this spot, and the woman who came after him was unhappy. He apologized and packed up as quickly as possible, but I think she felt deprived of a few minutes of prime real estate during rush hour.

We ate at Trattoria Nella, where we had creamy gnocchi, penne pasta, veal, and spinach. Though the rest of the group raved about the meal, I actually preferred our other dinner in Florence at Giglio Rosso.

Breakfast in Florence was much like breakfast in Venice: hard rolls, yogurt, cheese, and coffee. Well, no coffee for me of course. I had daily cups of hot chocolate. At least in Florence, we had fruit to choose from!

After breakfast, our Rick Steves tour group marched down to Chiesa di Santa Croce (the church of the Holy Cross). Our early reservation at the Uffizi Gallery was postponed because of a morning strike. (“Italians are always striking over something,” our tour guide Sarah told us.)

On our way to Santa Croce, we passed through what Sarah described as a “German Oktoberfest”. She was corrected by a nearby vendor, however, who told us (in his thick accent), “Austrian Oktoberfest!”

We toured Santa Croce with our local guide Luka. It’s a beautiful building filled with frescoes by Giotto and his pupils. And, much to Kris’ delight, it contains many tombs. (Kris loves tombs, remember.) However, I’m not sure how many of these tombs were actually tombs — I think many of them were simply monuments. Whatever the case, we saw monuments or tombs for Dante, Machiavelli, Rossini, and three scientists: Galileo, Marconi, and Enrico Fermi.

The courtyard inside Santa Croce

Stained glass high on a wall inside Santa Croce

Kris in front of Galileo’s tomb. Or monument. Or whatever.

The strike at the Uffizi Gallery ended mid-morning, so we headed over to take in one of the biggest art collections in the world. We saw Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus (which was wonderful), some Michelangelos, and more.

Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus — not my photo

But I was tired and hungry and my feet hurt. I was tired of standing in museums and walking with the group at a snail’s pace. Plus, our tour guide Luka — while knowledgeable and nice — rambled on and on with little personality. I felt more and more on edge. To cope, I spent the last 60 to 90 minutes in my own little world, following the group from room to room but listening to classical music on my iPod while pacing the edges of the galleries.

By the time the tour ended at two, Kris and I were tired, hungry, and snippy. We quickly found a place to eat pizza, wine, and chocolate. We felt much better after lunch. Italian food had a way of improving my mood in a hurry!

In the afternoon, we toured Museo Galileo, Florence’s science museum. Were I not tired, this would surely have been a trip highlight — especially the globes and the maps of the heavens. Even exhausted, it was fun to see.

Galileo’s fingers! (In theory, anyhow…)

Kris and I walked back to the hotel, where we had a supper of food from the nearby grocery store. We each picked out little snacks to eat. Kris bought what she thought were little blocks of cheese, but they actually turned out to be blocks of yeast. We were asleep by 8 p.m.

No room to park? No problem! With a Smart Car, you can park sideways…

For most of our time in Venice, I felt trapped. I felt like a caged animal. For the previous couple of months, I’d become accustomed to an intense workout at 6:30 every morning, and remaining active through most of the day. Despite claims to the contrary, I felt like our tour wasn’t very active. It was a lot of standing around looking at stuff. So, I felt trapped. I had all this excess energy, and I needed to burn it off.

So, on our last morning in Venice, I woke at 5:22 for an early morning run through the streets. I ran across the Rialto bridge to the Basilica di Santi Giovanni e Paolo, then found my way to St. Mark’s, and then the Accademia. From there, I ran northwest along the waterfront, then picked my way through the alleys to the tranchetto (car park). I made my way across the Ponte della Costituzione (Venice’s newest bridge) to the train station, before running down the wide avenue to the Rialto. I did about six miles in around an hour. It felt great.

At 8:15, we made our way to the vaporetto (water bus), which carried us to our motorcoach for Florence.

Our bus ride took us through beautiful hill country that reminded me (and others) of Colorado west of Denver. For lunch, we stopped at an Autogrill outside Bologna. An Autogrill is a glorified rest stop alongside the freeway. I don’t mean this in a bad way. In the U.S., we have scuzzy minimarts in our roadside gas stations. An Autogrill is like that, but with higher-quality goods (including books and produce) and, often, a cafeteria.

This particular Autogrill had a cafeteria with pasta, meats, fruits, and (of course) wine. It also had a gourmet food store in the lower level. It’s not a great place to eat, but it’s a fun glimpse at something other countries have that we in the U.S. do not.

This was the most expensive place we stayed on our trip. Fancy hotels are lost on me and Kris.

Our group arrived in Florence at 2 p.m. and settled into the Hotel Silla, just north of the River Arno. After a short rest, we met our tour guide Sarah for a walking tour of the city. She showed us the “fake David” and other sculptures, the Duomo, and more.

The Duomo in Florence, which sprawls through the city’s center. It’s huge.

Perseus hoists the Medusa’s head

Neptune guarding Piazza della Signoria

Wes, photographing Neptune. Sarah, our tour guide, stands behind him.

We then walked to Florence’s Accademia art gallery, where we saw the real David by Michelangelo. This marble statue may be the most famous sculpture in the world — and it’s really quite impressive.

To end the evening, we walked to dinner at Giglio Rosso. This was my favorite meal of the entire trip. The food was fantastic (three kinds of pasta, three meats, several glasses of wine, and two profiteroles for dessert) and the service smooth. Delicious!

We walked home on a warm Thursday evening, enjoying the boisterous street activity, including many street artists like these:

I started the day feeling like a caged tiger, but ended it purring like a cat. Despite my complaints in these journals, I enjoyed Italy a great deal. It was a wonderful place, and in many ways felt like home. The food was great, the people were friendly, and the culture fit my personality. In retrospect, it was the structured nature of the tour that did me in. (And, as you’ll see, I have more complaints tomorrow!) The tour was great, as far as tours go. But I had much more fun in those moments I was allowed to break free from the script and improvise: running through Venice, walking alone across Rome, getting lost in Paris. I like discovery, not being told what to see.

There was plenty of discovery on our trip, so I was essentially happy. But the scripted moments — even when the script was good — often made me feel confined. (This is the reason I don’t like being on a cruise ship, either. I just don’t like pre-packaged tourism. It may be a fun vacation, but it’s missing an element of realism that I find vital in visiting new places.)

Because I’m a geek, I track lots of stats about my physical state. I track the number of calories I consume, the number of calories I burn, the amount of exercise I do, and, yes, the amount of sleep I get. During the first few days of our vacation, I had nights of five hours, four hours, and zero hours of sleep. For a man who averages about 7-1/2 hours of sleep per night, that was not enough. Not even close.

Fortunately, I woke better rested than on previous mornings, but I found myself in a bit of a funk. I was grouchy and out of sorts. I had a boil on my arm (which was gross and painful), I hadn’t been getting the exercise I was used to (yes, we were walking a lot, but at a slow pace), and I was just generally out of sorts.

A group of kids near the Rialto bridge (the risers are sidewalks for high tides)

The Rick Steves group — which has a “no grumps” policy — met for a tour of the Accademia art gallery, where an Italian tour guide spent 90 minutes describing the collection of Catholic art. I hated it. Much of this art is beautiful, and I don’t have anything against Catholics, but it was all too much, too soon. After just a few days in Italy, I was beginning to believe the entire country was only about Catholicism. And wine.

After the Accademia, we toured Ca’ Rezzonico, a palazzo (or palace) that has been converted into a museum dedicated to 18th-century Venice. The building was grand, and I liked some of the art, but my feet were sore, the day was hot, the pace was slow, and I was cranky that this palazzo — which had been billed to us as “typical of the day” — was mostly unfurnished. (At the Louvre in Paris, I was pleased as punch that the Napoleon III rooms retained much of their original furnishings.) It didn’t take long until Kris was grumpy that I was grumpy.

Fortunately, my mood improved in the afternoon.

First, Joy and Phil — the only other couple our age in the tour group — invited us to join them for lunch. I was quiet and surly at first, but the food and conversation improved my mood. Plus, I shared a liter of wine with Joy and Phil. If you get to Venice, I recommend Avogaria Locanda, which is also apparently a hotel. The beef stew was great!

Typical menu board in Italy. Note that “panini” just means “sandwiches”.

After lunch, Kris and I meandered back to the hotel. This was fun for me because it meant I got to pick my way through the twisting maze of Venetian streets. Throughout the trip, I kept saying that maps and directions are one of my super powers. It’s true. I love going to a new city and having to navigate my way around. Venice was probably the most fun I’ve ever had doing this.

We made a quick pit stop, and then headed out again. First we stopped so Kris could buy some Murano glass. Next, we walked over to the Basilica di San Giovanni e Paolo (or, the church of St. John and Paul).

A typical Venetian street sign, painted on the wall

Chiesa di Ss. Giovanni e Paolo, Venice

It’s tough to convey the scale of this place. It’s huge. Note the woman in lower left.

Another member of our group (Carrie) had stumbled upon this church by accident, and told us it was great. She was right. Though San Giovanni e Paolo doesn’t get promoted in the guidebooks, it’s actually fairly cool. It was one of Kris’ favorite spots on our entire trip. “I like the tombs,” she says. She likes the tombs in all of the churches. And this church had the tomes of 25 doges (or dukes), the rulers of Venice.

Note the floor, which is in a state of “elegant decay”.

Kris likes this “dead baby angel” bas relief. She likes all tombs.

After San Giovanni e Paolo, we decided to hoof it to St. Mark’s before it closed. I got side-tracked, however, by a bookstore billing itself (in self-conscious irony) as “the most beautiful bookshop in the world”, which is technically called Libreria Acqua Alta.

The most beautiful bookshop in the world

Kris thought the bookstore’s fire exit was hilarious

This bookstore is far from beautiful, but the owner is friendly, and happy to crack jokes in English (and other languages, too, I suspect). The store features stacks and stacks of used books, all tumbling over each other in wonderful disarray. I spent a happy half hour digging through old comics before buying some Italian translations of comics I loved as a kid.

The bookstore also had a cat — only the second we’d seen in Venice — but he didn’t want to have anything to do with us. Kris tried to take a photo, but this was all she could manage:

“I hate tourists,” this cat seems to be saying. He did not want his photo taken.

If you’re a book lover, this is a must-visit destination in Venice. Damn Rick Steve for not including this in his guidebook!

Despite the side-trip, we were able to see St. Mark’s — for five minutes. Because we had a museum pass from earlier in the day, we were able to get into the ground floor for free. We followed the masses around and snapped a couple of quick photos. If we’d had more time, we could have paid to see the famous four horses. Based on our cursory visit, though, we weren’t impressed. It’s neat, but it’s very touristy. The Scrovegni Chapel in Padua was better, and maybe too were the other cathedrals we saw in Venice.

Kris, getting cozy with the Italian wildlife

We returned to the hotel, where we spent some time unwinding. Then we headed out to dinner with new friends Joy and Phil. We ate at a place that had been recommended to them by friends: Osteria Antico Giardinetto. It’s a lovely, quiet little spot with good food and friendly staff.

Phil’s meal was squid-ink pasta. This isn’t a bad photo — the stuff is just black!

Back at the hotel, we packed for our morning departure to Florence.