Adam and I are having a great time on our Italian adventure — so far we’ve spent a few days in Venice and are now in Florence. But there is one disappointing story I’d like to share with you.
Many of you know that I am physically unable to walk by a crepe stand without purchasing one. Well, for the first three days in Venice, because of time constraints, the crepe somehow did not happen (though luckily pizza, pasta, and gelato were waiting for me with open arms). So Tuesday morning, I was so excited for my crepe.
Me, about to enjoy my Nutella crepe:
Once I figured out how to eat a crepe while standing (I’m more of a fork-and-knife kind of crepe eater), I took four glorious bites as Adam and I walked toward St. Mark’s Square, Venice’s central piazza and busiest area. Adam thought it would be a good chance to snap the perfect shot of the beautiful and historic area while I ate my breakfast. But St. Mark’s Square is full of tourists — both humans and pigeons.
As I was about to take another delicious bite, as Adam headed toward an optimal photo-taking spot, a pigeon — or was it a seagull? — actually flew into my head while another bird knocked my crepe out of my hands, onto the ground.
Sorry, Lia. The birds need this crepe more than you do.
I was in such a state of shock that I didn’t know quite what happened. One minute, it was warm Nutella oozing out of a fresh crepe; the next minute, OW, something on my head, crepe on the ground, birds all around. I stood there, mouth agape, when I saw that other tourists had seen it happen and looked at me with sympathetic — and “so glad it’s you and not me” — eyes.
Here’s a shot of the culprit, enjoying breakfast:
And me, sad and hungry:
Later that evening, aiming to redeem my “crepey” morning (get it?), we wandered through the streets of Venice looking for a specific crepe stand I had seen a day earlier, not wanting to jinx myself by attempting the crepe stand from that morning. But alas, without a street name or a landmark (other than “I’m pretty sure it was near a bridge and next to a Sephora”), my Tuesday crepe was just not meant to be.
It was probably for the best, though, with all of the Italian foods I need to be working my way through.