Italy Part 2: Air Force Base and Venice with the Girls

Wednesday, June 20^th. I awoke to the sound of Douglas’ alarm going off some time around 6:30 a.m. This was nothing out of the ordinary seeing as I always wake up with his alarm, and most times before he does. I got out of the bed and went straight to the window. I opened the left pane and could feel the humidity starting to rise. The sun was not shining bright, but I could tell it was going to be a hot and beautiful day.

The reason we went to Italy was because the conference for all Detachment Commanders in our Region was being held there. This meant that if spouses attended, our schedules would ultimately revolve around that of the Marines. Prior to coming I researched things to do in the area. Aviano is a small city with minimal tourist attractions. However, the larger tourist cities were accessible from the base by train. I hoped to see the sights in Venice, Florence, Milan, Verano, and a few other popular cities. To my disadvantage, the bulk of these places would take over 3 hours of travel one-way. Most of us spouses had plans with our husbands after they got off work. Therefore, we needed to be back in Aviano by early evening, which would greatly limit our time to tour cities that were further away. I soon came to the reality that I would have to pick the closest city and settle with that one.

According to the schedule of events planned for the day, everyone would find themselves staying local or on base. There was a meeting and lunch arranged for the spouses and both the Region and Group Command members at 11:00 a.m. There was also a large buffet dinner scheduled for the entire group at 6:00 p.m. On the upside, there would be very little down time while staying on the base.

I packed my work-out clothes in hopes to fit in some exercise on the trip. Although I had no concern about overeating on Italy’s plentiful bread and authentic dishes, I was eager to run on the sidewalks without the many restrictions that are usually found in Algiers. Before meeting up with the group as scheduled, I decided to start my day off with a short run. I got dressed and prepared to leave the room along with Douglas. He got his usual “Do you have this, do you have that, don’t forget this, and don’t forget that” speech and then a hug and kiss to complete our morning routine.

I got outside and immediately was hit by the increasing humidity. I could tell this wasn’t going to be the most comfortable workout.  I ventured around the base for a bit, passing the golf course and the base fitness center. I was about to cut my run outside short and go inside to continue, except the facility was closed due to extreme heat. Isn’t it supposed to be open due to extreme heat? Inconveniently, their air conditioner was down.

I resumed my run. I could see a sizable track field nearby. More often than not, I don’t like running on a track, because I’m literally running in circles. The routine can be so boring. But I ventured over there despite my feelings and gave it a try. Aside from the tiny black bugs that were flying all over me, the run was going well. Small black dots continuously appeared on my arms and face. The bugs easily stuck to my sweaty skin. One even got into my mouth. Yuck! I lasted about twenty more minutes before I called it a wrap. The bugs had gotten the best of me and the humidity didn’t help either. I was proud to simply go out in that heat and last as long as I did with those pesky bugs irritating me every second.

As soon as I got back to the hotel I purchased some expensive water bottles that were sold at the front desk. Unfortunately, there was nowhere else in the hotel to get water. I went upstairs to shower, eat the food I purchased at the commissary the day before, and get dressed.

In the midst of dressing, I remembered Douglas saying that we could access the internet from our cell phones. Even though our cell phones were turned off when we left the U.S. we could still connect to any available wireless network. Douglas can also use his phone to call anywhere in the States without additional charges using his Vonage mobile connect. You have to love technology. I just had to call my mom to let her know we made it there safely. That has always been our thing since I left home after high school. Whenever I travel I always call her before I leave and after I arrive. She does the same thing when traveling too. I have found myself worried when I don’t hear from my mom after I know her plane landed, so I didn’t want her to feel the same way longer than necessary.

Afterwards, I went to look for a 110-volt outlet in the room to plug-in our phones. I was surprised to find only one such outlet. When I called ahead the customer service agent said there was an outlet in the room, but I didn’t gather she only meant one. There were nearly five 220-volt outlets scattered about the room. Fortunately, Douglas thought to bring his power strip which allowed us to plug in multiple items at once.

Fifth Lesson/Recommendation: When traveling overseas bring a surge protector in case there is only one American outlet available.

The remainder of the day consisted of a successful meeting with the Region and Group Command members, a nice long lunch with spouses, the Commanding Officer and First Sergeants, an extensive trip to the Base Exchange with friends, a visit to see two families and their little ones, and a wonderful buffet style dinner with the entire group. I never left the base, but had a good time nonetheless.

Towards the end of dinner, I confirmed my plans for the next day with two spouses that I befriended, Rayma and Christen. The three of us desperately wanted to see Venice since it was no more than 2 hours away. We were all set and couldn’t wait to get off base the following day! 

Thursday, June 21^st. The feeling of excitement served as my alarm clock this morning. I was thrilled about going to Venice. This was going to be a fantastic and memorable day! The girls and I planned to meet in the lobby at 6:20 a.m. to have enough time to take out money from the ATM, eat breakfast at the base chow hall, and catch our taxi by 7:00 a.m.

I brought with me both Douglas’ bank card and mine. We had two cards - one from each of our banks. Places in Italy take credit cards, but it is recommended to use Euro when purchasing small items, especially from street vendors. In addition, I learned there is a 3% transaction fee for all foreign purchases.

Sixth Lesson: Check with your credit card company in advance to determine what the foreign transaction fee is, if any at all.  

There was an ATM in the lobby that had no additional fees. While at Marco Polo Airport in Venice, we exchanged a small amount of U.S. dollars for Euro. Both Douglas and I were astounded to discover afterwards an exchange fee of 16% had been taken out.  We lost a fair amount of money in that outrageous fee.

Seventh Lesson: If possible do not exchange money at the airport. Instead go to a local bank or withdraw money from an ATM.  

Christen and Rayma were downstairs already. A stranger observing our behavior would have easily mistaken us for a group of teenagers, had we not looked our actual ages. We were covered with enthusiasm for the day ahead.

Christen was the first person to use the ATM. She was successful in withdrawing her desired amount of funds. Next was me. I chose to remove 320 Euro which came to about $400. I was taken aback when I read a prompt saying, “Incorrect passcode. Please try again.” I proceeded to enter the same passcode again, thinking maybe I accidentally hit an incorrect key. Nope! I entered the correct numbers, but still received the same message. I cancelled my transaction and called Douglas from the lobby phone since I was using his bank card. I asked him to confirm the passcode. He said if the number I was using didn’t work then I should try another number that he then gave me. In my head I thought, “You’re not sure about your own passcode for your bank card.” But I took down the number and attempted to use the machine a third time. You can imagine my frustration when I keyed in both numbers and neither one of them worked. 

I decided to use our other bank card instead. There was no doubt that I knew my passcode.  I entered the card into the ATM. Nothing appeared on the screen and a green light continued to flash as though I never placed anything inside. You wouldn’t believe it, but the machine kept my card. I stood there bewildered by what just happened.  I thought to myself, “This cannot be happening to me.” Was it absurd for me to think the morning would go as planned? I didn’t panic. I calmly asked the front desk representatives if they could open the machine and remove my card. Well, I must have been an idiot to think it would be that simple. One of the Airmen at the desk responded by saying, “Uh…We aren’t responsible for those machines Ma’am.” Not exactly the words I want to hear when I have no other means of getting cash out. The Airmen found out that the bank located on another one of their five bases in Aviano is responsible for each ATM. Only a bank representative could remove the card. The problem there was that the bank did not open until 9:00 a.m. There was no way we could wait that long. At the time it was about 6:40 a.m. Not a favorable way to start the day.

I went upstairs and explained to Douglas that his possible passcodes didn’t work, and our other bank card was now stuck in the machine. He happened to already be on the phone with one of the banks. Apparently, his card had not been activated. He activated the card and said I shouldn’t have a problem using it now. But my bank card was still resting in the machine. Douglas would have to later pick it up from the front desk during his lunch break. I ran back downstairs to the girls. I explained the situation and told them that I should now be able to use the bank card at another ATM. None of us would insert another card into that machine. The closest one was by the Base Exchange. We soon realized there would be no time to eat breakfast at the chow hall. Although, we may have survived on empty stomachs and a long train ride, I remembered that I had yogurt in the fridge. Both Rayma and Christen agreed yogurt would be a good idea. It was better to have something than nothing. I hurried back upstairs to the room and snatched three Chobani Greek yogurts from the fridge with three spoons off the counter. I was out of the door in less than ten seconds. I didn’t plan to exercise this morning, but I was certainly getting a workout running up and down three flights of stairs.

It was now 6:50 a.m. and we needed to get moving. The Airmen downstairs assured me that my card would be held at the front desk once a bank representative came over to remove it. Usually, I would be concerned, but I was comforted that at least my card wasn’t lost. I refused to wait around until the bank opened. We wanted to get to Venice as early as possible to maximize our day.

The girls and I quickly walked to the Base Exchange so that Rayma and I could get money. Rayma went first in case I still had problems with my card. She completed her transaction with no problems. I was up next. I guess the repeated pleas I said to the machine before sliding my card did not work. I received the exact error message yet again. I was done! I now had no Euro on me to spend in Venice. Surprisingly, I didn’t get angry. I knew this would later make sense, but now I just wanted to get to Venice, even if I had no cash to spend. At least I had my credit card.

Christen and Rayma were both too kind. The girls I met less than 48 hours ago offered to get money from their accounts to loan me so that I too would have Euro to spend. That is an example of how military spouses take care of one another. I’m not going to say it doesn’t happen in the civilian world, but I just met these ladies and they had no hesitation in offering me financial assistance. I always say, Marines take care of Marines and spouses take care of spouses.

I despise borrowing money from anyone, but there was no other way for me to access my own cash. I was truly grateful for their generosity. We later laughed when Christen handed me the money she drew from the ATM. I jokingly said, “Thanks Mom.” Our day was off to a rocky start, but we chuckled at the situation and continued forward to meet our car.

The taxi ride took about fifteen minutes. We arrived to the station just in time to catch the train leaving at 7:30 a.m. The train reminded me of the one I took while living in Los Angeles, California. One summer weekend, I spontaneously decided to visit San Diego via train since I didn’t have a car at the time. It was a double decker train with cushioned seats and large windows to observe the scenic views off the Pacific Coast Highway. Our train going to Venice was somewhat similar, only the views were not nearly as breathtaking. There was ample seating available for us to choose from. We chose to sit on the upper level. After a few minor setbacks that morning, the three of us were relieved to finally be on our way to Venice.

The sights outside the window left much to the imagination. We mainly passed several trees and a few small houses every so often. The ride was smooth enough to put a baby to sleep (or three tired ladies). The only thing that could have made it better was if it actually operated in express mode. The train made a number of stops, despite it being labeled as express.  One hour and forty-five minutes later we pulled into the Venice Station, also called Venezia. This was the last stop. Everyone rushed to exit the train. We were ready to see the city and to fill our bellies with food that was a slightly heavier than yogurt. As we walked, the first place that caught our attention was Pizza Pazza.

The girls quickly forgot that the time was merely 9:15 a.m. Pizza was not served until 11:00 a.m. We continued walking to the other half of the shop that was called Bar Caffé. The “so called” breakfast options that Bar Caffé sold, consisted of pastries, muffins, pre-made cold-cut and burger sandwiches. Again, not your typical American breakfast choices. The girls chose a couple of sandwiches that looked fairly appetizing. I munched on the gluten free Think Thin - Cookies and Cream protein bar that I packed for a snack. When I know that I will be out all day, I always come prepared with a mixture of gluten-free snacks. 

With food in our systems, we went inside the main gate of the station to check the time of the train departing for Aviano in the afternoon. The trains run fairly regularly - about every forty to forty-five minutes. Our husbands were scheduled to finish classes at 4:00 p.m. We planned to catch the 2:18 p.m. train that would return us to Pordenone Station around 4:00 p.m. This meant we had about approximately 5 hours to explore Venice. Off we went!

There was a surreal feeling that rushed through my body. In that instant I felt like an actress playing a role in a movie being filmed in Venice. The setting was so absolutely perfect. I gazed around in awe of my surroundings. I was immovable. I didn’t want to blink for even a second, in fear of missing the most miniscule detail. There were countless buildings, tons of narrow streets, several canals, many boats, and loads of small stores to purchase souvenirs. Lots to do in such little time!

There are over 100 islands in the city of Venice. The three of us had one island in particular that was a must see on our list. That was Murano Island where the famous glass craftsmen performed the fine art of blowing glass. 

Venice is superbly different than the average city. Most Venetians travel throughout the city by either foot or the popular water taxis or water buses (vaporetti). If someone wants to cross the street, they would wait at the designated area for taxis and buses. The taxi or bus would then transport them from one side of the water to the other. This meant it could take nearly ten to fifteen minutes just to cross the street or the water in this case. Luckily, taxis run regularly. 

We located a ticket booth to determine which water taxi would take us to Murano Island.  The helpful representative working inside the booth pointed us in the correct direction. We purchased our tickets and went to the docking area to await boarding.

There didn’t appear to be many people in Venice that day. Probably because it was a weekday morning opposed to a weekend or weeknight. I was content in the scarcity of tourist and locals freely roaming about. It was blissful not having to maneuver my way through hoards of people.

The water taxi arrived within a few short minutes. The taxis are seemingly spacious. The top level had a standing area and seats at both ends of the boat. Many of them have a downstairs level with additional seating too. We elected to stand, giving us a better view of the sights. It was an idyllic opportunity to take pictures, seeing as the water taxi moved at a decent speed. The taxis are often compared to a speed boat that makes several stops along the water.

During the ride we passed the tiny island of Rialto, which was chosen as the headquarters of the city. We also rode by a Natural History Museum and an elementary school.  Venice is an extraordinarily picturesque city that sits on a lagoon in northeastern Italy. Its richness in landscape, culture, and beauty was overwhelming.

The ride to Murano took just over thirty minutes. We marveled at the countless tourist attractions and lovely scenery; the ride hardly seemed long enough. We could have ridden the taxi for hours if we weren’t on a time constraint. A number of people got off at Murano Island along with us. One could fairly assume that they too were planning to visit the historic glass blowing venue.

The history of glass making is immensely popular. There is no doubt that tourist have this place at the top of their to-do list.

As soon as we exited the water taxi there was a man standing there happily yelling, “Glass making to the left, glass making to the left.” As we strolled along the water, we passed a copious amount of small buildings with an array of gorgeous flowers on each one of them. There were also modest sized stores selling various glass products and other unique antiques specific to Murano. 

From a distance we could see the green awning that read, Vetreria Murano Arte. It was the famous glassblowing shop. A greeter guided us into a furnace to watch the glass making process. Upon entering the furnace I imagined what it felt like to walk into a burning fire. The extreme heat permeated throughout the room. There were three rows of steps for viewers to stand on while observing the glassblowing process. This had to be a mistake. How could people withstand such an excessive amount of heat? The furnace was at a temperature of at least 3000 degrees Fahrenheit and we were in the same room as the furnace! I began to feel the sweat soak through my clothes. The scarf I wore over my hair now stuck to my forehead. My body looked as though I was heavily oiled up with sweat as it poured down my arms and legs. To say it was burning inside that room would undoubtedly be an understatement. I must have lost a good 5 lbs. within the ten minutes I remained in that room. But it was absolutely worth the experience the historic process.  

Glassblowing is an art that takes several years to master. It has been told that a glassblower will spend all of his life practicing and mastering his techniques. An apprenticeship in the old days was approximately fifteen years. Out of the 7,000 people on the island of Murano, at least 2,000 of them are glassblowers. The men moved freely as if they weren’t even affected by the high temperature. They are accustomed to it, as they work in this environment daily.

The glass itself is made by melting together silica, sand, soda, and lime. There were three glass-craftsmen working in separate areas of the furnace. There is one glass-master and two assistants, each tasked with specific duties. The results are indescribable. Minimal photography was allowed inside the furnace, but I managed to capture a few shots.

Once our time ended to watch the glassblowing, everyone was escorted out. My clothes now clung to my sweaty body. I would need to stand in an air conditioned room for a lengthy amount of time to dry off. Fortunately, we took our time looking at each item inside the two show rooms. There were numerous, intricate pieces on display. It was amazing to see the pieces these glass-craftsmen made by hand. It took me longer than expected to narrow down my choices on an item to bring home. I wanted to get a distinctive piece.  I eventually settled on a beautifully decorated, uniquely designed plate. I even received a certificate to prove the authenticity of the plate.  In addition, the plate has a signed inscription on its edge. I also purchased a gold necklace with a charming glass pendant. I was more than content with my choices. 

The man that assisted us was exceptionally beneficial in the knowledge he provided about each piece and wonderfully patient the entire time. He also gave us a substantial discount on a few items. The staff carefully covered our items in heavy paper and bubble wrap. It was done so well, I left it wrapped until we returned to Algiers.

Fortunately the store accepted credit cards. I didn’t want to use my entire borrowed Euro in this store. My cash would be better spent at street vendors and snack shops. The other ladies had their purchases declined. Unfortunately they didn’t contact their credit card companies in advance. Thankfully, that was the one thing I did do the night before. It was good that I had a credit card available to assist them with their purchases if necessary. But instead, they both chose to pay with Euro since they had the cash available.

Eighth Lesson: In addition to your bank, call your credit card companies to inform them of any travel plans.  

It’s pretty reassuring to know that credit institutions and banks take such preventative measures to stopping fraudulent activities. We each left the store content with our purchases. The man kindly handed out business cards as he thanked us for our business. If you ever visit Italy, Vetreria Murano Arte is a must see!

We must have been in the glass store for well over an hour. Our stomachs were starting to grumble loudly. Especially mine since that container of yogurt was all I ate in the morning and the clock now struck noon. The man at the glass shop recommended a couple of nice restaurants nearby. We headed to that area as we carried in hand our treasured pieces of Murano glass. It wasn’t long before we stumbled upon a quaint restaurant with minimal outside seating. The girls and I checked out the menu to ensure that I could dine there. The menu was good to go. 

Sans Souchi was the name of the restaurant. Our waiter introduced himself and seemed a bit wacky. He could have easily been a supreme amateur comedian, at best, during his hours off from working at the restaurant. The man was friendly for a few minutes and then turned into a disrespectful comedian seconds later. We weren’t sure if his behavior should be chalked up as an Italian thing or if he was just cuckoo.  Laughter was our first reaction that was soon followed by annoyance. That didn’t prevent us from enjoying ourselves though. The girls knew exactly what they wanted to eat. Pizza! I couldn’t blame them. I too wanted some delicious Italian pizza. My next best choice on the menu would end up being grilled chicken and fries. If only Venice catered to gluten-free living.

The waiter brought out an appetizer for the table. Tomato and mozzarella was our pick of the day. It was delicious!

It was extremely relaxing to sit outside in a shaded area underneath a large patio umbrella. The wind lightly blew and the temperature was barely hot. It was turning out to be a perfect afternoon shared with the perfect set of girls. While waiting for the food, we reveled in the surrounding views. We sat on the edge of a canal of water. Boats slowly passed by us as though they were bicycles. A few of them looked extravagant.

Although we were basking in the comforting state of calmness, we did notice nearly forty minutes passed by and our entrees still had not been served. Minutes later the waiter sauntered to our table without any concern for the long wait we endured. The first dish was my bowl of fries. Seconds later the pizzas and grilled chicken breast came out. The ladies had no idea the pizza would be so large. They began eating, enjoying every bite. My chicken was nothing to rave about. However, I was content with it simply being tender and tasty.

The girls and I didn’t spend much time eating as we soon realized that it was close to 1:00 p.m. I think I scarfed down my fries at record pace. We planned to catch the 2:18 p.m. train. It seemed like time went by way too fast! Our day in Venice was already coming to an end, and we hardly explored all that the city had to offer. I finished my chicken and the girls asked the waiter to box up their pizzas. The waiter seemed annoyed by any question posed, as though requesting a box was uncommon or asking for ketchup was unorthodox. After bringing out the boxes, the waiter was nowhere to be found. We wanted to get the check and continue about our way.

It is true that Italians often take time to appreciate the moments during the day. They don’t rush through life or lunch either.  As Americans we are always on the go, especially where I am from. I’m a New Yorker and we constantly have a “rush, rush” mentality. We want things immediately with minimal wait time. I could surely benefit from applying this Italian style of living to my life. I wasn’t interested in altering my ways beginning with this lunch. We were ready to go!

I got up to find the waiter chatting with his buddies in the back of the restaurant. He had no intention of returning to our table anytime soon.  We paid the bill in Euro, grabbed our bags and left the table. Despite the slow service, it was nice to peacefully sit outside for lunch.

Right across from the restaurant was a store that sold more pieces of Murano glass. I purchased a cool wine stopper that I thought Douglas might like. The cost was 20 Euro, which was pretty expensive for such a small item. That’s about $25. Although I would have liked to purchase some souvenirs for family and friends, it was simply too expensive.

As we walked back to catch the water taxi, we passed a short yet cute bridge. There are over 400 bridges in Venice, mostly diminutive in size compared to the average bridge. I spotted an excellent photo opportunity. I have no shame in asking a stranger to take my picture. I stopped a couple of pedestrians and politely asked if they could snap a few photos of the girls and me. Most tourists tend to want the same things, but are hesitant to approach a stranger. I must have slept through the “Stranger Danger” class as a child.

Directly across from the water taxi stop was a store that sold none other than gelato. Yum! My eyes practically popped out of their sockets. My head was already in the store as my body rapidly followed behind. I had not consumed ice cream since we got to Algiers. The ice cream sold there is poor in taste. It doesn’t come close to real ice cream. I must say that I prefer frozen yogurt and gelato over ice cream any day. I had two scoops of vanilla, which is my favorite flavor and scent. I love everything vanilla! It was refreshingly smooth and creamy. Our water taxi was pulling up to the docking station as I made my way through the last spoonfuls of gelato.

Though the water taxi took the same route back as it did going to Murano, there were plenty of sights that went unseen. Directly in front of the boat was the infamous San Michele Cemetery. It’s huge in size, but the island itself is very small. San Michele is so small that only serves as a temporary resting place for the deceased. After approximately 12 years, many remains are exhumed and cremated. Some remains are also deposited in an ossuary on the mainland. If someone is privileged enough, they are allowed to stay longer. What an interesting practice. When I’m gone, I would like to rest wherever I am laid initially. Just saying!

I didn’t want this time to end. But the water taxi soon approached our stop, Venezia Station. We immediately realized that our 2:18 train would be missed. It was fine by us though.  The girls and I wanted more time to walk around the station area. There were approximately forty minutes for us to sightsee until the next train pulled off.

The city was beginning to get crowded. Our timing was impeccable arriving early that morning. I first caught sight of a neat mask shop. The masks in Venice are sold all over. They are typically worn during the highly anticipated event of the year, Carnevale. I randomly decided to purchase a mask. I usually avoid purchasing items that I will never use, but it seemed like a cool item to have from Italy. The masks are very popular. And the more lavishly decorated they are, the more expensive they get. Some mask can cost thousands of dollars. My eyes locked on this beautiful blue mask. Blue is my favorite color. With no idea when I would wear this thing, I gladly had the cashier ring me up. I’ll only be in Italy once. Maybe it will be a part of a future Halloween ensemble, although I’m not a fan of wearing costumes for Halloween. Surely I could get creative and find something to do with it. 

Before we knew it, it was time to board the train. We couldn’t help but snort and giggle at our different experiences over the past few hours. We had so much fun together. I was sure the elderly man who plopped down in the seat beside us did not find our chatter and giggles amusing. We sat in a section with four seats - two on each side directly across from one another. He chose to fill the fourth seat. Every now and then he glanced up from his reading material and gave us the look that said, “Be quiet!” With all the seating available on the train, one would have thought he’d choose another place to rest for the next hour. If the man understood English, then he heard all about our wonderful day in Venice.

Since we caught an express train, the ride went by quickly. It took us just over an hour to get back to Pordenone Station. Thankfully taxis were lined up outside waiting to pick up passengers. We caught the first available taxi back to base. I fell in and out of sleep during the entire taxi ride. The day was magnificent. We made it back home a little after 5:00 p.m. and the guys returned from work shortly after. Once Douglas heard about our adventures he wanted to see Venice for himself.

Rayma mentioned that she and her husband would check out of Mountain View Lodge a day early and stay in Venice for their last night. She offered for Douglas and me to share their room and join them in Venice. We were thrilled about the idea. I called the hotel to try and book our own room. To my disappointment they were already sold out. Rayma didn’t hesitate to once again extend her invitation. We gladly obliged and offered to split the cost. I couldn’t wait for Douglas and I to experience Venice together.

After a fantastic day, it was time for us to get ready for dinner. We planned to go out with another group of friends that couldn’t join us earlier in the day. Their choice was a Brazilian steakhouse. Many of us looked forward to eating the type of foods that were not available or of good quality in our current countries. This would be a treat!

While preparing to leave, Douglas mentioned that he spoke with the bank. Apparently, his passcode was correct. He also was told that his card expired. Douglas accidentally took the wrong card from our home in Algiers. He then informed me about his conversation with the bank on base. They said once the card is removed, it is industry policy for them to destroy the card. I would never see that card again. Fortunately, I did bring our checkbook. As my last resort, I would now have to visit the bank and write a check to myself to cash. There was no way we could go the rest of the trip without any Euro. Plus, I wanted to repay Christen the Euro she loaned me. I now had another hurdle to tackle in the morning.

We headed out to dinner shortly after 7:30 p.m. There were three couples including us and five children between the other two families. Nickia and her crew were one of the families. Once again we were thoroughly entertained by her adorable daughters. Douglas is amazing with children. He helped to look after the youngest one by toting her around on his shoulder. It's moments like that when I’m reminded of just how ready I am to be a mother and see Douglas as a father. He’s going to be such an awesome dad. I look forward to the day when God blesses us with our very own.

 

 

Brazilian Steakhouses are known for their enormous variety of slowly cooked grilled meats. The one in Italy was no different. I’m not a meat lover as many were at the table. I mainly stuck with the chicken and turkey which was scrumptious. For dessert I tried a new dish. They offered grilled pineapple. With every bite, I felt like I was eating a warm apple pie. It would have gone so perfectly with the gelato I had earlier. Dinner was delectable. Although it was past the kid’s bed times, I think the adults were more fatigued than the children. We just couldn’t hang like we used to! 

Once we got to base and parted ways with everyone, Douglas and I took our time strolling back to the lodging facility. He had a productive day with classes, I had a splendid day with the girls in Venice, and we had a delightful dinner with friends. Aside from the bank and credit card snafus, the day was indeed fantastic and unquestionably memorable.

Tomorrow we would stay local and explore the town of Aviano. No matter what, I was sure to have a good time. 

To be continued with Part 3….