My video of loading Coral onto the cargo ship will have to wait due to various tedious computer issues, but here are a few stills to get you in the mood.
We got the call shortly after lunch to motor over and pull up alongside Danzigergracht. I caught the lines they threw down while Mike kept us steady. The loadmaster, a friendly Brit, introduced himself, we donned our new hardhats and safety vests and the operation got underway.
We detached the backstay so that two slings could be positioned under Coral with the help of a frogman.
They started to lift her with us on it, and once we got level with the deck the crane paused so we could climb off. Then she continued through the air to her resting spot for the journey across the Atlantic Ocean.
The crew positioned the supports and immediately welded them in place.
We climbed up a ladder to get onboard again, reconnected the backstay, and that was pretty much it, she was good to go. The Russian fellow who would be in charge of things in transit asked us for the combination to get into the boat if necessary once the freighter reached the US. Apparently the American customs agents have no patience and will not think twice about bashing in a window to take a peek in the cabin. We happily obliged with the padlock combination.
By the time the operation was complete it was dusk. We headed over to the shipping company’s office to pay the bill and call a cab.
Now I know what you all are wondering–now that we’re off the boat, what is the final European tally for the backgammon tournament? That would be Kathy 177 to Mike 173. Looks like he’s _almost_ as smart as I am. Oh, also, I can’t believe I forgot to mention this before, but I finally backgammoned him at the end of August. In front of his mother.
It felt very strange to be kicked out of our home for the last eight months, but we dutifully headed back to the marina, picked up our bags and checked into Hotel Excelsior. The hotel was fine, utilitarian, but it turned out to be the most expensive one we stayed in over the next two and a half weeks, we think because Monfalcone is a shipbuilding port, so most of the customers are on business, not cheap tourists. It was clean and central, so no complaints.
We selected a local joint for dinner, Lo Spuntino, #2 on TripAdvisor. We were by far the earliest diners, even though it was after 7pm, but the waitress accommodated us and kindly explained the Italian menu.
We started with some polenta and sausage and then I had fish ravioli while Mike had gnocchi with a blue cheese sauce. Delish!
The next morning we set off for Venice! I had never been there before, so I was kind of expecting to find that it was overrated. Nope! If you haven’t been to Venice, you should go. Even though the weather was cool and rainy, it was spectacular.
After a short train ride we hoofed it over to our hotel, Hotel Ca’ Dogaressa in the Canareggio district. It was a great spot–the hotel is right on a canal, but it’s not a super touristy area, so the rate was good (less than €50), and it’s a short gorgeous walk to wherever you want to go.
We checked in and were shown to our little room–clean, cute, new bathroom, alley view, fine and dandy. We went out for a walk, and when we returned there was a distinct sewage-y odor in the room. I groaned internally because I knew Mike was going to go downstairs and complain, and I am so ridiculously Canadian that I was willing to endure the smell for a cheap room. Well. Mike did indeed go down, and the night clerk moved us across the street to a GIANT room with huge windows looking onto the canal, a table, sitting area, and gigantic bathroom with whirlpool tub and glass shower with rainhead, wall jets, aromatherapy, and adjustable funky lighting. What?!?!? I fully expected to be moved out the next day when someone else came on duty, but nope, we stayed in that room for three nights at our cheap hotels.com rate. What can I say, Mike is a genius.
We spent three glorious days wandering the streets and alleyways, visiting churches great and small, eating, and even shopping (very unlike me, but I had a bee in my bonnet about finding some biker boots for some reason). Mike visited the Peggy Guggenheim museum, while I just made it to the gift shop. Mike spent a day riding the vaporetto, during which he went to the Murano glass factory. I, oddly enough, did not step foot on a boat in Venice. I think we both enjoyed a little alone time–boat life is tight.
Check out the funky furniture in this store we strolled by numerous times.
And check out this dog, she’s high-end shoe shopping!
We saw lots of posters advertising the Loris Marazzi gallery. He sculpts clothing out of wood, and it is quite something. While we were at the gallery I spied a crate ready for shipment to Alan Alda. I tried to memorize his address, but of course forgot it before I got around to writing it down. Sigh, a good stalking opportunity wasted. It was somewhere on Fifth Avenue in New York. No shit.
We did the tour of St. Mark’s Basilica, of course . It’s free to get into the church itself, but there are a number of little side tours you can pay to take. We visited the main church, reliquaries and the upper galleries. The reliquaries were just as creepy as you might imagine, but well worth the stop. To the uninitiated, a relic is a part of the body of a saint, usually a bone fragment, that is on display in the windowed area of a fancy chalice or something. The upper galleries were accessed on the St. Mark’s Museum tour. Also worth the extra Euros, we got to go out onto the balcony with the horses, see models of restoration work, along with a bunch of art, ancient bibles, priests’ robes, tapestries, carpets, etc.
St. Mark’s Square has hustlers trying to convince you to give them money to lure pigeons to land on you for a photo. Words fail me on that one. Short story, we told them to piss off.
The food was excellent. The first night we ate across the canal from our hotel at a local place, Ai Tre Archi. We had a very Italian waiter (you don’t say!) with a very dry sense of humour, which we both loved. Food was great, wine was reasonable, a win. The next night we went in search of Mexican food and found it at Iguanna. When we walked in the hostess looked confused “This isn’t an Italian restaurant”, but we assured we were there looking for Mexican food. I gather they don’t get many tourists. We weren’t disappointed: food was tasty, and most important the margarita was top notch. Our final night I gave in to Mike’s dim sum craving and we ate at Dragone d’Oriente, a hop skip and jump from St. Mark’s Square. It wasn’t exactly a sacrifice for me–potstickers make me very happy.
We made a few pitstops for drinks as well, including a visit to the iconic Harry’s Bar. It was very expensive, but with an oddly simplistic 50’s retro decor. Also, they keep the unwashed masses like us in a separate area from the moneyed patrons, not that I blame them. I did not have the signature drink, the bellini, I had a prosecco, which Mike assured me was much cooler than ordering the expected. Eh, whatever, we ticked that box.
I’d have stayed here happily for three months wandering the streets in the rain, but we have to make our way back to Athens in two weeks for our flight home. Next stop, Florence!
