Oof. Venice.

Last Wednesday we took a little field trip to Venice. After a half-hour train-ride our teacher told us that we had the option to stay there over-night, an offer we took without hesitation, who wouldn’t? Her brother is a hotel manager at a four star hotel in the heart of the city and the room that all nine of us stayed in for only 90 euro in total is actually 1400 euro a night. Basically, we lived like Venitian queens for a night. We toured the city during the day, stopping at il Museo Correr and the Palazzo Ducale, eating a little gelato, and then we went for an aperativo drink before dinner. Our group consisted of us UC girls, our teacher Ilaria, her brother Luca, and Luca’s friend Claudio. We thought that after our drink we’d grab a bite to eat, see a little Venice at dark and then call it a night.

But no…apparently that’s not how you do a Venetian Wednesday night. After our aperativo we went to another bar to drink wine and eat tiny fried meatballs saturated in garlic, cold potatoes that have been marinating in oil, parsely and salt, and fried filleted sardines. The bar was so cute, the doorway was crowded with people ordering little appetizers/wine but the back was a trattoria-style restaurant. With our hunger and exhaustion from the heat of the day temporarily sated by delicious snacks and wine we thought, “okay, back to the hotel.”

But, again, nope…on to another bar! The drinkers of the group thinned to myself, Tess, Erica, Luca, and Claudio. This bar was an Irish pub, so everyone was sipping on brew and watching the soccer match on the big screen TV. After finishing our drinks (quickly because most of the group had stopped drinking and were waiting awkwardly outside) we walked, slightly tipsy, back to the hotel stopping only to dance to a mariachi band serenading the tiny streets (I know, mariachi in Venice? Yes, it exists). And, once again, those of us who had decided to enjoy the Venetian nightlife, despite knowing full well that we had a 7AM revelry the next morning, were invited to the hotel bar by Luca.

So Tess, Erica, and I enjoyed our own private bar well into the next morning. We were our own bartenders - helping ourselves to anything and everything behind the bar, learning how to make drinks, and trying disgusting Italian liquors. When we got hungry; Luca called the consierge, who suddenly appeared with cheese and crackers. When we ran out of ice; Luca called and, again, the consierge came running with a bucket filled to the brim with ice. When we wanted our music louder; Luca made a call. Our wish was his command. The shear privilige we had was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol we were drinking.

The next morning we woke up, had a splendid continental breakfast, filed through the four-feet-wide streets to the train station and was at class by 9:30. Needless to say, for the three of us that stayed awake:

it was an amazing night. The morning was definitely not.