Our second day we took a boat tour to see Lady Liberty.  I thought we’d be able to go up but it takes tickets months in advance to even get inside.  Still, she did not fail to impress.  The Francophile in me loved the connection with Alexandre-Gustave Eiffel, the man of course famous for the Eiffel Tower, but also for designing our statue’s steel framework.  French sculptor Frederic-Auguste Bartholdi created the statue itself using sheets of hammered copper.  The island where she resides is now known as Liberty Island and the Statue of Liberty remains one of the most recognizable landmarks in the world today.  When we disembarked I got Burk to sit still for another portrait.  (I don’t care for caricatures).  He felt like the one from our honeymoon in Paris made him look like a serial killer.  This one he felt made him look 12.  Next it was time to change for an unfashionably early dinner at the 21 Club.  I had seen pictures of it on TV but it was Burk’s childhood stomping ground as his Grandmother often dined there for lunch.  So I saw it with new eyes and Burk saw it through the lense of time.  Established in 1922, it was originally a small speakeasy that moved locations and was raided by police several times.  As soon as a raid began, a system of levers used to tip the bar shelves, sweeping the liquor bottles into the sewer.  We were essentially alone in the restaurant at that hour but that was more than fine with me.  I got to walk through the various rooms without being stared at while I took pictures.  After dinner we literally ran into Elmo on the street and I made Burk have his picture taken with him.  I feel so badly because I did not realize you were supposed to tip.  <cringe>  “The Phantom of the Opera” was everything I thought it would be and much, much more.  The set design was the best I’d ever seen.  Going down the staircase of The Majestic at intermission was a bit like stepping back in time.  It opened in 1927 and until the ’70’s was the largest theatre on Broadway.  Currently it has the longest running production with Phantom in Broadway history.  I have inherited my mother’s long-standing pet peeve of disiking Dallasites for jumping up to give a standing ovation for absolutely ANYthing.  She studied classical music for over 20 years.  THIS however definitely merited it.  And so with that I shall close with Andrew Lloyd Webber’s famous lyrics from “The Phantom of the Opera”:

“The Music of the Night”

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defenses

Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar
And you live as you’ve never lived before

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you
Hear it, feel it secretly possess you
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the music of the night

Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before
Let your soul take you where you long to be
Only then can you belong to me

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the night

You alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the music of the night

I figured since I’d gotten to see Lady Liberty in Paris on our honeymoon I should visit our own Statue of Liberty in New York.  So for our first wedding anniversary Burk let me choose New York City and Québec.  We arrived at the airport and some Russian guy approached us saying we could ride in his limo for the same price as a taxi … with no waiting.  We said sure like a couple of idiots and found ourselves in the bowels of the airport parking lot.  I was relieved to note some type of badge in the guy’s dash once we eventually made it.  He was really very nice and took us to our hotel in a white stretch limousine that reminded me of the one I wanted to take to prom in the ’80’s.  It really was something in a dated sort of way and turned heads for varying reasons I’m sure.  Our hotel was right by the UN and they had a federal officer with a drug sniffing dog checking everyone’s bags before they entered.  Much to my horror, the yellow Lab lingered and lingered over ours … to the point of humiliation.  She just wouldn’t stop!  I finally explained to the large, well-muscled, non-smiling man that we had wolves and cats and that must be why she was so interested.  Yeah, like that made it any better.  We were eventually cleared and our poor bellman took our well-snuffled luggage up to our room.  Much like our honeymoon when we headed straight to the Eiffel Tower that first day, we decided to begin our trip by going up the Empire State Building.  As I have mentioned previously, we are not ashamed to be tourists.  At 102 stories, the limestone structure was the tallest building in the world from 1931 until 1970.  I loved its Art Deco style and had no idea it was named one of the Seven Wonders of the Modern World.  The project involved 3,400 workers including hundreds of Mohawk iron workers, many from the Kahnawake reserve near Montreal.  We also saw the beautiful Grand Central Terminal with its Beaux-Arts style and intricate designs both inside and out.  I was surprised to learn it is one of the world’s most visited tourist attractions.  Burk’s paternal Grandmother used to live at the incredibly posh, very exclusive Sutton Square in the ’70’s for over 20 years and he knew the streets like the back of his hand.  As a girl coming from the wide open spaces of Texas, I felt a little hemmed in.  It was hard to see the sun with the tallness of the buildings and my eyes continually burned with everything seemingly under perpetual construction.  Still, we’d had a nice first day and I made friends with our doorman who was from Cuba.  He and I spoke about cigars at length and he seemed genuinely delighted to have found a fellow aficionado.  As we headed up the elevator I found myself praying our building wasn’t going to sway in the wind; we were up pretty high.  Kurt Vonnegut referred to New York City as “Skyscraper National Park”.  That was my view of it as well.

This was the last day of our honeymoon.  Burk and I had loved it and we found that we traveled great together.  It was a day filled with laughs.  First, we discovered pay toilets.  That was bad enough (and beyond gross) until the prudes in us realized the bathroom was unisex.  Thinking back of how round our eyes were I’m quite sure we did not look particularly sophisticated.  Next came lunch.  I have been a vegetarian for years for animal ethics reasons and have been squeamish since childhood over dead critters on plates.  I will NEVER forget the look on Burk’s face when the fish he ordered arrived staring back at him from the platter — he looked absolutely horrified.  So he resorted to frantic hand gestures trying to convey to please have it deboned.  I guess the waiter figured it out judging by the wan green color he saw that washed all over my new husband’s face.  Afterward we headed out to Murano Island to see the world famous glass making factory.  It was so incredibly hot I had as much admiration for the man’s centuries-old skill in blowing glass as I did for his tolerance to the extreme heat.  They had two showrooms.  The first was more of a display gallery for folks able to drop a TON of money on big pieces.  What I resented though is we were each assigned a “handler” who followed us individually EVERYwhere.  I understood them wanting to protect their wares but this was truly offensive.  I could not turn around without literally bumping into the woman who was tailing me.  When I asked if they had anything less expensive the woman smirked and directed me to what was simply a nice gift shop where they had smaller things like Christmas ornaments, vases, and paperweights.  I got a dark blue bird and believe me it wasn’t cheap.  Ha!  Cheep!  Punny and I didn’t know it.  Anyway, after touring and shopping we headed back to the main island and passed under the ever-watchful winged lion perched high atop the city.  Pictured here is the famous Rialto Bridge.  One of four that span the Grand Canal, it is also the oldest, having been completed in 1591, and was the dividing line between the districts of San Marco and San Polo.  That night we ate on the water’s edge right where this picture was taken.  We watched the sun set and met a couple in their 80’s who had not been to Venice since their honeymoon.  I remember thinking I hoped we would be like them:  still traveling, still active and, most importantly, still in love.  Of course we could not leave without taking a gondola ride.  I found the one guy who knew a little French and tried to haggle with/cajole him probably to no avail.  Ready for this?  It was over 200 euros — 200 EUROS!!!  Highway robbery but I felt to leave without having ridden Venice’s canals would have been the bigger crime.  We passed another gondola where the man was singing.  A churlish part of me wondered if they’d had to pay extra.  We knew it was time for us to go to our new home and start our everyday lives together.  Canadian entrepreneur Guy Laliberté said:

“I am blessed for what I have, but I believed in it from the beginning.  Today, the dream is the same:  I still want to travel, I still want to entertain, and I most certainly still want to have fun.”

The same holds true for me.

Next we headed to where I had been looking forward to seeing most in Venice — St. Mark’s Basilica.  My father’s name was Mark and I adore Byzantine iconography.  We were in the heart of Venice at the Piazza San Marco.  Since I do not have any pictures of the interior, I must have blocked out the memory that picture taking was forbidden.  I can understand prohibiting the use of flash photography due to preservation issues, but it frankly irks me not to be able to (respectfully) photograph inside a house of God.  The first thing that struck me were the stunning dark blue and ground gold mosaics that reached all the way to the top of the high domes.  The interior was based upon Constantine’s Church of the Holy Apostles.  Vast marble floors were covered in animal designs which of course I loved as well as intricate geometric patterns.  It all felt very Eastern.  I heard the basilica was referred to as “the Church of Gold”.  I kept thinking to myself, as we were shuffled along like cattle, it still felt like gold was being extracted repeatedly from each of its visitors.  One could hear the steady “chink chink”, “chink chink” reverberating to the ceiling from people doling out to visit this place or that around the naves.  I didn’t see anyone praying and it felt more like a museum than a holy place of worship.  Finally herded to the stairway, we were able to go outside onto the balcony.  It was there I was able to take pictures of the great bronze Horses of St. Mark that face the square which were installed above the portal of the basilica in about 1254.  They date to classical antiquity and were long displayed at the Hippodrome of Constantinople.  In 1204 the Doge at the time had them sent back to Venice as part of the loot sacked from the Fourth Crusade.  I pray the feel of this church has changed since 2007.  Leaving the steady sounds of clanking coins behind, we headed out into the bright noon day sun.  Pigeons were everywhere and I thought THIS was how I had always imagined Italy.  An Italian bride and groom were being photographed in the middle of the famous St. Mark’s square surrounded by all those birds.  Next we headed up the iconic Bell Tower of Saint Mark and ascended the 323 foot tall campanile where a loggia surrounded a belfry.  One used to announce executions, the Nona sounded midday, and the largest rang to signal the beginning and ending of working days.  The campanile’s initial construction was in the 9th century and was used as a watch tower for the dock.  After taking in views of the ocean and basilica, we headed back down into the plaza.  Water sloshed up to my ankles and I marveled that the tide had rolled in and spilled over onto the square.  Deciding to have a cold drink, our jaws hit the ground upon discovering there was a fee JUST TO SIT, an extra fee for ordering food, another fee if one wanted to be inside with air conditioning, plus several other nonsensical add ons including 20% gratuity for essentially being ignored.  Venice is a tourist’s down, and they didn’t seem to like tourists.  Funny how Parisians have gotten a bad rap for being rude when it was definitely the Venetians.  Our money was being drained at a mind numbing pace.  So we split one tiny bottle of Coke with a lemon and I kid you not it ran almost 15 euros!  Ice was extra.  Novelist Roman Payne said:

“Cities were always like people, showing their varying personalities to the traveler.  Depending on the city and on the traveler, there might begin a mutual love, or dislike, friendship, or enmity.  Where one city will rise a certain individual to glory, it will destroy another who is not suited to its personality.  Only through travel can we know where we belong or not, where we are loved and where we are rejected.”