Knowing that we will certainly return is the only way to leave Venice.  We are already planning, dreaming of being back.

Elisa and Pietro insisted on carrying our heaviest suitcases over the bridge and joined us for a quick coffee at Bar Cupido. We got on the 5.1 boat heading for Piazzale Roma to pick up our rental car.  The was a lot of confusion on boarding. Elisa is telling me that the boat cannot go to Piazzale Roma because of aqua alta, the boats can’t make it under the bridges and we’ll have to get off at Tre Archi and get a different boat.  I am slightly annoyed but this is Venice and how it goes sometimes.  The heavily made up, privileged, middle age American women standing near me, however, are in complete denial.  I try to explain it to them, but they give me a dirty look and say the boatman told them they were going to the station, completely mispronouncing Ferrovia, the station stop.  A Venetian woman nearby looks at me and says, in Italian, “you are right” and then with her English, about on par with my Italian, she tries to explain it to them.  The boat stops at Tre Archi and we disembark.  Everyone is on their phones, but I stop a working man and ask him which way to Piazzale Roma and he starts us off==straight, left, left, right, then zig zag, or something like that.  An Italian couple decided to join us in our attempt to reach Piazzale Roma on foot, rather than walking over another bridge and about 2 blocks to the other boat.

The four of us, the man is looking at his phone, keep walking, up and down bridges, through a largely residential area of Cannaregio.  All four of us are in a good sweat carrying our suitcases which are reluctant to roll on the uneven streets.  Finally, things start to look familiar and I can see that we are getting close to the station.  I gesture to them and off we go over the last bridge, the controversial Calatrava.  At least the steps are shallow.  We take a long inhale and exhale to catch our breaths on the top. The EuropeCar office is near the bottom of the bridge and in sight.  

The staff at EuropeCar is totally in the weeds.  The line is not so long—we were maybe 5th but they take a good 15 minutes with each customer and then there’s about a 20 minute wait for the car to appear from a parking area over the bridge.

We finally get into our Fiat Tipo, which is filthy and one of the most uncomfortable cars on Earth, and off we go.  The drive to Piacenza took about three hours and except for some rain, was uneventful.  We parked near the apartment and got upstairs.  The key to the building is actually on a link on my phone—press the link, press open the door, press OK and click, it opens.

The apartment is really great.  Everything seems brand new—maybe Ikea stuff.  We unpack minimally and want to go for a walk but it is raining pretty hard.  About a block from here we stop for a coffee and a little sandwich and a very short look around, trying to stay under the porticos. I grabbed this one shot of the government building:

We came back, made a quick trip to the grocery store, talked to Josh for a while ,and rested.

For dinner (and truthfully the food is the real reason I wanted to come here) we went right downstairs to La Forchette.  The meal was excellent.  We started the the classic Emilian treat gnoccho fritto.  Rectangles of very light fried bread served hot with proscuitto and pancetta.  When you put the meat onto the bread the fat melts a little and it is just out of this world delicious. We had already eaten some when I took this photo.  

It was a perfect day for anolini in brodo, another classic of the area.  It really hit the spot.  The broth…to die for!

Ken got a really delicious paccheri with tomato sauce and we got a bottle of local red.  We were so stuffed!

Came back upstairs, watched the last episode of Industry and went to bed.

Except for the wonderful meal this is not a very auspicious beginning to our little adventure, but tomorrow is a new day. Hoping for some sun.