January 5,2014

Clean drawers are a really nice thing to have.  If you're  not from the South, replace "drawers" with "underwear."  The little flat we're staying at in Venice has a washer.  That was one of the selling points - to have access to a washer.  This has to be the World's Smallest Washer.  Put one of my sweaters in it and you've got a full load.  Here is some more American arrogance for you:   if you turn the dial to "coton" and hit "start," it will not cycle all the way through like an American washer. We found this out the hard way - I  hit "start," and we walked out for  cappocinos and croissants for breakfast. When we returned an hour later, the washer was still washing.  Man, those are some clean drawers - er, underwear.  By trial and error, I realized the washer didn't have a timer.  It's strictly a "manual"  operation.  I bet the owners of this flat spent, whoa, about 10 euros for this washer, brand new.  From some guy off the street wearing an overcoat.

Trying to figure out this stupid washer with Google Translate.

It reminded me of growing up on my grandmother's farm.  She had an ancient washer that worked except for the timer.  You had to manually change from "wash" to "drain" to "rinse," etc.  She was prone to put in a load of clothes, and then wander to the garden, then maybe to the barn, then out to the front yard...I had clothes that looked like they were 10 years old from wear but still new.

We left our clean drawers to dry on the drying rack (dryers are evidently an undiscovered commodity in residential Venetian living) and headed out.  Jack has figured out where we are in relation to Venice; and more importantly where we're going!  He has that impressive knack, one reason of many why I married him.

We went to Harry's Bar, that of Ernest Hemingway fame for "A Clean and Well-Lighted Place."  It's right off St. Mark's square, but normal people would walk right by the entrance.  Journalists must have an extra gene of some sort that allows them to sniff out writer's haunts.

Jack makes an entrance into Harry's 

Cool place, and yes, it was clean and well-lit.  It looked as if the decor and furniture hadn't changed since Ernest wrote the story circa 1949.  Interesting People were in there, made more interesting by the fact that the menu admonished the patrons "not to take liberties with photographs of other patrons.”

As a matter of fact, it is “Clean and Well-Lighted”

We figured out where Hemingway sat.  It had to be the one just to the right of the door as you walk in.  It would allow him to see whoever walked before they saw him.

This bar is also the birthplace of the Bellini, a champagne-and-peach-puree cocktail. I sniffed.  If you can't take your champagne straight, stay home.

When we left Harry's, the sky had cleared a bit and there was an amazing sunset over the harbor.  We headed home to clean, dry drawers.