guest house venice

The Kindness of Strangers in Venice

Snack Bar Sarpi in Venice

Snack Bar Sarpi in Venice

We’d just arrived in Venice after a 20 hour flight. Somehow I had mislaid the map with directions to our guest house. Tired and confused, I went into a tiny little snack bar. I figured since this was a tourist street the guy would certainly  speak English. Using my one Italian word, I said “Scusi” and pointed desperately to my lifeline – the slip of paper with the guest house address and phone number on it. The fellow  shrugged and shook his head.  I asked which of the numbers I phone from the pay phone.

Don’t assume all Italians speak English

I was making that classic tourist mistake of thinking everyone speaks English. He smiled and bustled off. I thought, “Oh, he’s going to get his telephone.” I watched as he rummaged under and over his cappuccino machine.

My hero - Moro from Snack Bar Sarpi

My hero - Moro from Snack Bar Sarpi

Assuming he was looking for his phone, I waited for a long time. Eventually he came back and smiled and looked at me expectantly. I smiled at him. He smiled back at me. This went on for quite a little while.  Finally, he looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I realized he had not understand a word I’d been saying and probably wondered why I’d been standing there for ten minutes without placing an order.

I did the pantomime thing and finally he pantomimed back, “Do you want me to phone?” I practically fell onto the counter with gratitude and relief, nodding my head furiously, “Si, si, si.” He grabs his cell phone, phones the number and within 15 seconds, he’s got the directions for me, which were “Go down to the first bridge, turn left. Go over the little nail bridge.” That’s all it was. We were so close.

A grand excuse to have our first glass of Prosecco

Celebrating our arrival in Venice with a glass of prosecco

Celebrating our arrival in Venice with a glass of prosecco

I will be eternally grateful to Moro from Snack Bar Sarpi.  It was so, so nice of him and it meant so much to us. After using up his time, I didn’t want to walk out without purchasing something, so that was just a grand excuse to have our first glass of Prosecco in Italy. Mind you, it was only 11:30 a.m. local time, but I thought, “Heck, it’s 3:30 a.m. back home and it’s perfectly fine to drink champagne in the middle of the night.” We went ahead and had a glass of Prosecco and toasted each other. We had finally arrived in Italy.

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Finding our Guest House In Venice

Ponte Chiodo - bridge leading to our guest house of the same name

Ponte Chiodo - bridge leading to our guest house of the same name

Even though I thought I was  organized, somehow I had forgotten to bring the piece of paper that had the directions to our guest house in Venice. At this point we’re 23 hours without sleep and trudging down a main tourist drag (Strada Nuova) against the current of a  sea of people.

It was magical

Nonetheless, it was magical We were giggling with delight because even though we were tired and lost, it was just so exciting to be in Venice. Everywhere we looked, there was something stunningly beautiful.  We  walked around for an hour trying to find our guest house. I had the address and phone number, so you’d think I wouldn’t have any problems. Not so.

Not a soul knew where 3749 Ponte Chiodo was

First of all, no-one knew where 3749 Ponte Chiodo was. I learned later that  addresses in Venice do not match up with the streets. I know it sounds bizarre, but there is no street called Ponte Chiodo, even though our address was 3749 Ponte Chiodo.

It turns out Ponte Chiodo is a tiny little bridge that arrives at the front door of the guest house. I’m talking tiny tiny – like a Japanese garden bridge. The little bridge is the Ponte Chiodo, which means “nail bridge,” and the guest house is 3749 Ponte Chiodo.  It’s not a street name so obviously it’s not going to be on any street map.

I do feel obliged to note that the Ponte Chiodo guest house proprietor emailed me several times prior to  my departure to remind me to print the map from the website. If I had that map with me we wouldn’t have had any problems finding the guest house.

And we never did figure out how to use a pay phone in Italy

We asked at least a half dozen people in the street and shops without any luck. So then we thought, “Well, we have the phone number. Let’s try phoning.” Of course, that involves figuring out a foreign phone and how many of the digits you put in.  We tried every button and every combination of numbers with prefixes and simply could not get it to work. (I wish I’d watched this video on  how to use a pay phone in Italy before I left for my trip.)

So the adventure continued. I went into a little snack bar, and that’s when our luck turned. Go here to read about the kindness of strangers in Venice.

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