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Survival mode Art. |
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aka the angry gondolier. Waiting to scam the next tourist |
Art Vs Venice
To start with Venice had me beat. Just the basics such as eating, sitting down and breathing non-stinking air for one week would be an journey (An alternative title to this post was The Rise and Fall of the Floating Stinker). I had unknowingly booked an evil Hostel with no usable kitchen and worse yet: it allowed no food or drink on the premise that was not bought from them. This Hostel was more sleazy bar really than hostel. I tried to explain to them the concept of a "guest", and silly notions such as eating being a necessity. They replied that I was very welcome as long as I was constantly buying stuff (this would be a theme throughout Venice), and I quote "this is not your house, my friend". On the little island of Guidecca where I was staying, the only way to eat out without going bankrupt was to face pasta or pizza (being that I don't eat wheat). Oh there were little supermarkets around but Venice is very clever, there was no way to perchance knives or forks or little cheap pointy things anywhere. Except... if you bought 50 plastic knives, or 50 plastic forks, or a badly made wooden crucifix (i.e. could serve as a pointy thing). I was down on my luck... I had to try and conform, though it is not my nature. I followed the herds of tourists, dished out 30 euro on a shity fish dish, got charged 5 euros to sit down at a piazza and even ate a plasticy gelato. But sure it's all worth it right? For the stupid little cramped roads and soggy canals and the gangs of gondoliers looking for their next pack of Americans.
After one day on this wet pancake I could no longer stand for it. I bought 50 knives, 50 forks and 50 plates (I rather give my money away to the plastic industry then this pompous moist Disney Land ). I made friends with this guy
bought local parma ham and cheese. Every morning I would sit and with my shity knives and very slowly "chop" my breakfast and food for the day on the floor by the river
I went to work in abandoned coffee shops, as no other place would have me, this was my desk for one morning
I believe that tube shaped boat is a shit transporter, it very appropriating stopped off at my hostel on the right. Here is a closer look
After a few hours I was even shooed off the abandon coffee shop as the guy said: "You no work here this my work, I work here not you". That was the nicest thing any coffee shop owner had said to me so far. Before I could distress I heard a faint american voice, it was Mr Moustache and he said "I am proud of you my son, don't let them beat you... now go in search of public places...." and so I did. I found I could work in parks
I carried a bunch of bananas and one water bottle which I would fill at water fountains (often a queue of angry locals would form behind me)
Every morning after making my food, and usually being pointed at by tourists, I would take a water bus
to far far away, to a more local and ugly part of Venice, where I found peace.
In the end I won, the first picture shows me in my state of victory standing proud in the most expensive hyped up piazza of Venice, piazza di san marco, carrying my banana and free water. The second pictures is a gondolier I beat in a stare down, just to rub in, so that Venice would remember me.