Venice

The last few days can be succinctly summed up for me with one word:
"revelations". A day on trains and shopping around Venice, then a night in the
"coffin-like" couchettes, followed by rising at 5 and riding more trains and
vans until 3 in the afternoon, showed me why some peoples worshipped sleep as a
god. The ride on the TGV - which I learned can travel faster than the famous
Shinkansen and Maglevs, but only the later generations, and only on the
dedicated TGV tracks where they have priority - gave me a taste of first class
transport (we were bumped up there on the next train when we were delayed and
missed our connection) and a visual understanding of why France is famous for
its wine. On the drive in the vans, which was our first time really using the
roads here, the realisation that they drive on the wrong side of the road here
properly sank in, in a way which was impossible when relying on walking and
metros; at the same time, the sudden transition from brilliant sun to rain and
lightning - although not, to my bemusement, at the same time - taught me that
French weather can be as fickle as Auckland's. A trip to the supermarket opened
my eyes to the amazing fact that it actually IS possible to make potato chips
which taste like cheeseburgers, gherkins and all - and the entree to our luxury
dinner in the hotel restaurant (and only 3 star!) allowed me to discover why
rich people love caviar; that it can came in different colours and sizes than
the tiny black dots I've seen in the movies; and why the French are famous for
their cuisine - though the secret of their wine, sadly, was left a mystery to me
- but not the Mr B's!

— Howell Fu