Today, Darcy and I flew back to Paris in preparation for our flight home to Canada tomorrow morning. I think I can say, without qualification, that Venice is the most beautiful city I have ever been to. Bruges and Heidelberg had their storybook charm (as too did Brussels), Gimmelwald was majestic beyond words, and Paris and London are an amazing mashup of old and new, but there really isn't anything to compare to Venice.
I can't really put my finger on what it is that makes Venice so amazing, because in just about every way possible, Venice was uncomfortable. Darcy suggested that it might be because Venice seems completely untouched by the modern world, and that's certainly part of it. My idyllic vision of Heidelberg was much ruined when I saw cars driving through the medieval square I had found so magical the night before, so there is certainly a form of nostalgia for a non-existent time factoring into it. But it's more that Venice is a mystery, which persists even after I saw the warehouses and factories today. Every house, every street, every canal seemed to have it's own story to tell. I don't usually talk in such fru fru language, but there's something about that place that inspires it.
That said, I am not overly upset to have returned to Paris. We are staying at an airport hotel (which is actually near the airport, so that's nice), and it has air conditioning, and a toilet in the room, luxuries which we did not have in Venice. Indeed, so many assumptions that I have made about hotels have been shattered by this trip that I am not sure I'll ever trust one again.
The most significant thing I learned on this trip is that most of my assumptions were wrong. When I went to China, my beliefs were fundamentally changed by the fact that several things I had assumed to be universally human were in fact western values that other cultures did not share (chief among them being the value of the individual). I expected something like that would happen at the time, and although it was quite shocking, it made sense.
I did not expect such things to happen here in Europe. I basically assumed that, especially in England, it would be just like Canada, albeit with more old stuff. This is not really the case. Although it's true that the values we share are mostly the same, the approach to everyday life is much different in many of these places. An example is driving in Paris. Most places don't have lines. There will be a roundabout with roads coming out of five or six different places, and there will be no lights, signs or lines on the roads. Similarly, motorcycles drive wherever they please, on the line (if there is one), between lanes or on the sidewalk. Our tour guide commented that the Parisienne police have more important things to do than ticket them, which makes me wonder what kind of traffic crime these police ARE enforcing. Maybe they are all busy chasing illegal vendors at the Eiffel Tower.
Another big one is water. Some restaurants (especially in France) have given us tap water in a jug to drink, which is a godsend, because in Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg, water was ridiculously expensive. In France and Italy, they have taps stationed all over the city with potable water just pouring out of them (constantly. There's no on switch or anything, they just have water pouring into a grate at all times). This strange attitude towards something I'd always taken as a right (in the developed world) up until now is another example.
I have learned that things which people tell me are impressive actually are. The parliament buildings in London, the Grand Place in Brussels, and the Eiffel Tower are just three examples of something I thought I'd better see but wasn't particularly expecting to be impressed. I really was. Things built for royalty are just on such a bigger scale than anything I expected, especially having seen what sorts of places other people had to endure. Comparing the Louvre to say, a canoe that Voyageurs used to paddle and live in is simply astounding. Up until now, I had always assumed that things were much smaller back then, and they were, unless you were a king. There really isn't anyone who has the kind of money or power to build something that took two hundred years to construct (Notre Dame de Paris, for example).
It's these things, as well as countless others, some of which I have mentioned in this blog, some of which I have not, which has made me re-evaluate my basic assumptions about values. The simple fact of the matter is that the world is so big, and every place has different ideas and ways of thinking. I saw only hints of them on my whirlwind tour, but each place I went made me curious to learn more than can be gleaned from a wikipedia article, and it makes me sad that I'll never learn it all.
I've also learned that next time I come to Europe, I plan to stay in one place for longer. I'm glad we sprinted all over the place, and that we saw as much as we did, but now that we have, and we sort of understand how each place works, we can pick and choose where to visit next time.
Blogging every day is hard work, and I have appreciated each and every comment that I have received, even if I don't respond. My lack of response isn't because I didn't read or appreciate it, but because I was so exhausted after blogging each night that I just couldn't get round to reciprocating. So thank you. It has made the blog worthwhile to me, and I suspect to Darcy as well. In particular, I have appreciated the people who read the blog and commented from countries other than Canada, as it makes me feel like an accomplished person.
Anyways, thanks for reading, and I hope to see many of you soon. If you are looking for more travel blogging, go ahead and read Christopher Scott's blog as he travels through China (through the exact cities I went through three years ago, although he is spending longer in each. I will no longer be the China expert, it seems).
Last, but not least, here are some parting shots of Venice, which show its actual city side, and not the fairy tale land we spent our time in.
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