Rubber Boots in San Marco's Square

Location: Venice, Italy
New Year’s Eve 2010
Adventure #1

I was the spoiled one donning black rubber boots that protected me from water up to my knees. My trio of male travel mates was decidedly less fortunate, as their future ability to repel water was being dictated by purse strings. Rather than shell out 30 euros for special Venice rubber boots (the only things special about them being that, when questioned, the owner can brag/exclaim “I bought them in Venice.”), they opted for a frugal alternative – wrapping their legs in blue plastic trash bags we found in our rental apartment. 

Against Mother Nature’s plan, we were intent on watching the New Year’s Eve fireworks in Venice’s stunning San Marco Square. I envisioned the night sky exploding with Italy’s patriotic hues, the fireworks illuminating the magnificent Byzantine basilica and sizzling out in the nearby sea. With these dreams streaming through our heads, we headed to the square, which was under about a foot of water after high tide invaded at 10pm. Before we reached the flooded region, I helped the men apply layer after layer of trash bags over their feet, wrapping white masking tape around their calves until their American sneakers transformed to over-sized Smurf appendages (little did we know that Mike would later topple over and become injured while removing the tape – otherwise we would have dolled it out more modestly). 

We swished slowly in the waters and joined hundreds of other revelers in St. Mark’s communal wading pool – many had mundane, functional boots like myself, others went the boy's plastic bag route, while other rogues (mainly those who popped the champagne corks early) perched barefoot in the frigid waters. Even as the water cooled my rubber boots and seeped through Mike's plastic bags to clasp his toes, we were gleeful to soak up the adventure, and we made friends with the group of Italian teenagers huddled next to us. At the stroke of midnight we counted down, raucously shouting our English numbers amid the chorus of international abacus voices. Eager to escape the waters, we fled to higher ground after a hasty round of good-luck kisses, forgetting the fireworks altogether.