Monkfish...the Turkey of the Sea

You know you're lame when sleeping till 9:30 is embarrassingly late...yeah, I'm a teacher, and a tool. I admit it, I did sleep late,indulgently so! And I woke up to find that Mumbai was falling apart. We sat in my parent's room and watched the images, trying to figure out what was happening as it was happening. When we finally went through one image cycle (so you're seeing pictures you saw a few minutes ago, no new information) we hopped on a boat and went out on the town.



A good deal of this Turkey Day was spent wandering, taking in the town, where the following oddities were to be seen

a disturbing child's ornament depicting a fall into a canal...or something

three ways of being a very pricey doggie in Venice

These diagonal things compress the wall, keep it from falling apart.


This is a light fixture...with tentacles apparently

and then we hit San Marco, made even more mind boggling by the sun and un-veneitan blue skies.

Marble, of Italian tastes...I'll leave it at that.

This is me staring right into the sun at the Bridge of Sighs
(that's NOT the right spelling), a picture not UNLIKE this one:


Oh, how far we've come


After a few more hours we went back to the hotel

"Mignon" is French for "cute"...Mignon indeed!

and then to Thanksgiving dinner in the city's Jewish quarter, at a place that came highly recommended by a friend of dad's. We "trusted" the chef and were treated to a first course of raw fish and octopus with toast, followed by muscle gnocci, monkfish with ginger sauce, and ending up with a pineapple ravioli. The first Thanksgiving it was not, but I have a feeling that Miles Standish could stomach it...provided of course it wasn't dished up by the hands of papists. That would have been a sticking point I suspect.