Meet Me at Harry's

Once we got settled into our Venice apartment, I pulled up my pants and we went wandering like typical tourists.  I have a lousy sense of direction, but when streets are in a grid pattern, I can eventually figure things out. I never figured it out in Venice and stayed close to my compadres with cell service.  I had bought a SIM card but the process to upload a required pic of my passport was so frustrating, I gave up. The vendor will get an earful when I'm back in the States. I can still fall back on my $10 a day service from my U.S. provider and former employer, but that is better spent on food and drink.

We had some simple but tasty meals in Venice.  Our last dinner was at Trattoria alla Madonna, which provided quality fare at reasonable prices.  Our waiter was an old guy and Katie thought he seemed rather sad.  I thought he was rather savvy when he pointed out that the 12% surcharge on the bill did not include a tip for him.  He was the only one to do so. He could have just said "I just want to wet my beak". I have difficulty with tipping, or lack thereof, in Europe.  We did some tipping but I feel like a skinflint if I don't drop a decent gratuity.

We went out one night for cicchetti at two different places.  Cicchetti are Venice's version of tapas.  I was not impressed with any of those we tried, but we did run into some excitement at the second place.  We were seated outdoors and heard several rapid footsteps followed by a local criminal speeding past us with four cops trying to catch up. The dude would have taken me out if my chair was a foot or so back. We never figured out if they caught him.

We also made it to the legendary Harry's Bar for an early afternoon cocktail.  We managed to grab four seats at the bar after standing for a couple minutes.  TCG and Katie went for the Bellini, which was invented there.  My wife and I had the Bloody Marys, as it was a little too bright outside for a martini. The bill came to 92 euro but we were expecting that given the place's prominence.  TCG was a little late to Harry's as he was picking up his official gondolier shirt. He got several shout outs from the real deal on our walk back.  I think one guy wanted him to take over his shift.

Katie is a boat enthusiast, having one of her own in Tahoe, so her wish of getting a ride on a classic woody was fulfilled by our water taxi to the airport.  We went there to pick up our car rental.  I tried getting on wifi but the only open network was "VOTE Trump". I passed. We hopped in our Jeep to start the three hour drive to Oristei in the Dolomites. We had a little trouble gassing it up as they would not accept our credit card. I had to put a 50 euro note in the machine but only required 30 euro worth of gas. TCG bailed me out when he figured out how to make the machine spit out a receipt with a QR code holding the balance.

The three hikers have headed to the mountains daily after our breakfast here at Hotel Garni Snaltnerhof. This gave me an opportunity to do what I do best, which is laze around and surf the web. I then took the cable car in the early afternoons to have lunch with them at 8,000 feet. We have also spent a lot of time walking around this very picturesque town, hearing a lot of German mixed in with the Italian and English. We head to Monterosso in Cinque Terre tomorrow morning.  As of now, we've been in Ortisei for over 72 hours and my hip is still intact.

By the way, I'm a fantastic photographer.

Out of My Brain on a Train

I'm on a train from Milan to Venice.  I was going to get a post up before I left but I slugged out.  I planned to get out at least one from Italy, so I'm making good on that thought. I didn't want to over-commit as you might see on my next one: "Day 5, DJ's hip is out in the Dolomites and he's cranky.  Daylight come and me want to go home". I was also going to use that tired line about you guys robbing my house while I'm gone that I toss out there every other vacation, but I'm retiring that stale trope.  In any case, #1 has access to the house, so if you are interested, just take him out for a few beers and he'll be sure to spill. 

We almost had a lost luggage incident between the flight from Frankfurt to Milan but the stuff showed up while the women were entering a complaint at the Lufthansa office. A quick 110 euro cab ride from the airport got us to the Sheraton.  I've been acting as the tour translator, meaning I mumble some Spanish inflected Italian, until in many cases, people say "I speak English".

Last night I sang for my supper at this joint.  I was playing the lead role in a new production, entitled DJ:Ugly American. Earlier in the day we wandered around Milan with our guide Paula.  We saw the Last Supper, Castello Sforzesco, The Duomo, and Galleria Vittorio Emanuele.  Cheapskate TCG wouldn't cough up 300 euro for a belt, where as I toss that kind of cash around daily.  We did have a very expensive lunch, with plain ristto going for 35 euro and Aperol Spritzes at 21 per.  But when my draft beer went for 15, I was pissed.  I said to the waiter. "What the hell is this, an MLB ballpark?" Fortunately, Katie's connections saved us dough at the Sherton San Siro, including free breakfast and a happy hour with heavy appetizers.

It happened to be Fashion Week when we were in Milan.  I'm part of that world, so it was no big deal to me, but my fellow travelers got a kick out of all the influencers primping and posing while their companions took photos. We saw some interesting and at times bizarre outfits.   The women espied someone with in aluminum coat in the restroom.  "Hey, can I have a couple feet of that?  I need to store some cookies".

We are now in our luxury apartment in Venice and you're not.  TCG helped me re-create a scene from a Santa Lucia train station.  As we disembarked, I apparently did not have my belt cinched tight enough and my pants ended up at my feet. I made the appropriate adjustments.

Men With Hats

I’m just back from the posh club where I tore it up in lane 3 for about 12 minutes.  Other than a few septuagenarian women ogling my abs, not much of interest took place.  However, a week or so ago I was doing the safety dance in the locker room when I espied three young dudes wearing hats in the sauna. They all had this model on, which I had only seen previously on the old Russian dudes that hang there.

The wife and I have both recently had some procedures and she has just made her way back to the pool this week.  She had her deviated septum fixed, for which the medical term is schnozolla roto-rooter.  And I had one of my molars yanked last week.  I didn’t need any pain meds past that afternoon.  The reason for this is that I’m a beast.  I’m looking forward to implant #3 in the new year.

Khloe K is changing her kid’s name after a year.  When the kid grows up, he needs to get his hands on some of that Kardashian dough and then skip town, maybe the country.  Sadly, they’ll mess him up and he’ll be like Kevin Costner’s kids, whose soon to be ex-wife is claiming she needs big bucks because luxury is in their kids’ DNA.

The reason I bring up the name change is twofold.  First and foremost, I need blog material.  Secondly, it reminds me of a story from my early days.  I was in kindergarten, and I went up to the teacher after class and told her I wanted to change my name to Bob.  I explained that all the other males in my family, my father and brother, were named Bob. Therefore, I saw no reason I shouldn’t be Bob too.  Sadly, she shot me down.

I mentioned the goose shit problem in FC in my last post.  I saw this in the HuffPo so I’m staying away from those bastards.

The Wig is checking out a three-unit property in SF.  He has two kids out here so they could take two of the three spots.  What worries me is that the Wig has been waxing nostalgic lately.  I get the feeling he wants to reenact that semester we lived together in Binghamton in 1980 in the SF top unit.

We had a fantastic dinner at Stella Alpina last night with The Hoteliers.  This was our second meal at their new digs on Burlingame Ave.  We went with the gnocchi appetizer, which was killer. Everybody enjoyed their chow and The Hotelier graciously picked up the tab as we’ve had them over a few times recently.  I’m going to give them a standing invite for pergola time.

A big Happy Birthday shout out to my pal Dr. Joe.