Europe Day 12

The drive day was incredibly standard, not even worth mentioning. Day 12 began with the worst breakfast so far in Europe. Bread comprised more than 90% of the actual breakfast, and most of it was pre-packaged convenience store-bought ready-to-eat junk snacks that I watched the server open out of the plastic package and empty right onto one of the breakfast buffet trays.

I told my parents I wasn't interested in the half-baked plan of going to the bike rental place and "seeing if there were any cancellations", so then my cousin came up with another half-baked plan which I went through with mostly because I knew it would cut down on my overall amount of walking time for the day, and also because I knew it would reinforce to others in the vacation party how pointless it was to go on vacation in Europe. Her plan was for me to sit at a bench at the roundabout near the hotel and wait for the cyclists to go by, and then ask them where the nearest bike rental place was. We ended up getting the address of a bike store (NOT a rental place) and when we finally got there (took an hour, driving on slow countryside roads) the store owner said he didn't have bikes for rent. The only other minute positive aspect of that trip was that my Dad finally got an accurate figure on how much my road bike at home cost ($660 and not $1200 like he thought).

We set off for Venice, and it took us about 25 minutes to walk to the San Marco square, which my mom insisted on us seeing. Since she was so insistent on seeing the square, my Dad rushed us along every time my mom, sister or cousin wanted to stop and buy something (my mom often makes plans on vacation with no time management whatsoever, and my Dad always overcompensates by constantly worrying about time, another reason why going on vacation with my parents is very stressful). After we got to the square, my mom, sister and cousin quickly stood in line (which shocked and amazed me) to see the church. I thought all the lines were over, and I straight up refused to stand in line or go inside the church. I sat outside, watching everybody go by and watching people play with the pigeons and musicians performing at the upscale restaurants etc etc etc while the rest of my family saw yet another church.

Upon completion of this endeavour, my sister, cousin and I went to find out details for the ferry to Murano, the island of Venice where all the glass factories are located. We were told it would take 10 minutes to get there, so we gathered up the rest of our party and set off for the boat. What we later realized is that the woman meant it would take 10 minutes to get from the tourist info booth to the ferry stop. It took an hour to get to the murano glass factory, and this ate into our time considerably, so much so that we later had to choose between an 80-euro gondola ride and having enough time for shopping. For me, spending 80 euros for 30 minutes on a boat would have made this a no-brainer, but my sister and cousin were extremely keen on this whole gondola thing and acted almost blind to the unconscionable gouging of tourists for money, in return for basically nothing. We went on the gondola and fast-walked back through the city to find most of the stores closed, probably for the better anyway. We did very little actual walking that day and I did almost no standing in place for a prolonged period of time, so I was not in severe pain and felt much like I did that day I ditched my family to go around Rome by myself.

At the Murano glass factory, everything was overpriced and everyone was eyeing us carefully because they didn't want us to steal or break anything. They were charging 5 euros just for us to be able to stand behind the rope and watch the glass figurines being made. Then we happened upon three guys who were making glass, and despite having closed for the day, they put some into the oven and we watched as a man turned an amorphous blob of 800-degree sand into a glass horse. For 9 euros, we bought two horses that were already made and cooled from them, basically for half the price at which we'd buy them in stores. These three men were the nicest men we have met so far in Europe, although I would have to say that, in my personal experience, they were probably edged out by the man who threw 12 cents at the cashier to pay for my shopping bag.