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Ferry Waits For No Man Sharon picked up her bike in the morning and we left Patricia's at noon. It was difficult to pull ourselves away, but we had a ferry to catch. It was scheduled to leave promptly at 5:00 p.m.-they waited for no one. The road SS11 paralleled the river as it made its way through a series of scenic quiet villages. The ride from Padova was the most pleasant cycling we had had since San Bernadino. I stopped at a bakery and put my last 5200 lira on the counter. "Pane," I said. The clerk filled a bag with various bread, took all my money, and happily sent me on my way. Prego! We found a park before the six kilometer causeway into Venice and stopped to make a hot lunch. Digging through my food pannier, I found a broken jar of jam stuck to the bottom. The jam was in a plastic bag but somehow had still managed to leak out. At 4:15 p.m. we arrived at the ferry terminal. By the time we found the ferry, cleared customs and boarded it was time to sail. We hadn't arrived with much time to spare. Boarding the ferry, I had to laugh. Aaran had told us how the Greeks always just shrugged their shoulders whenever he asked them a question. I asked one worker if it was okay to lean my bike against a pallet of material. The guy shrugged. I thought it was probably worse when they were part Italian and part Greek. You got a flamboyant personality that didn't give a shit. We drifted down the Grand Canal, leaving Venice as the flame red sun set. The sun's last rays appeared to radiate from inside the walls of a church with fire red swarms of clouds billowing forth. Spectacular! It must have been a good one-even the ferry personnel were out taking pictures. A perfect last image of Venice to take with us. We had plenty of time to reflect on it. It was thirtynine hours to Patras. It was a good thing the seas were calm. |
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