Kick Save And A Beauty!

While researching our planned stop in Padua, I came across a stunning UNESCO World Heritage site that I had never heard of before.  Nor had Carol, and she knows a lot about amazing old stuff (including me!).

(Editor: All together now, "UNESCO Means 'You Must Go!'"  Writer: Ah, you bring a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.)

I don't remember how I stumbled across the Scrovegni Chapel, but as soon as I saw information about it, I knew we had to go.  Like the Last Supper in Milan, or the David in Florence, you need to get tickets well in advance or it sells out.  Only 25 people are allowed in the chapel at a time, and they get 15 minutes in the chapel. 

The chapel looks stunning.  And beautiful.  It features approximately 40 frescoes painted between 1303 and 1305 by Giotto, considered the father of the early Renaissance, and most famous for his frescoes in. . .the Scrovegni Chapel!

So I went immediately to the website, and thought I ordered tickets for 10:30am on the day we would be in Padua.  The website is pretty confusing, especially when you get to the "order tickets" part as I couldn't get that to translate from Italian to English.  But I also thought it said, "pick-up tickets" at the ticket office.  Well, it did say that, but apparently I never executed the ticket purchase, as no confirming email ever came.

It wasn't until we arrived at our hotel to leave our bags that I first felt the sickening feeling that I had screwed up and not actually reserved tickets.  The woman checking us in expressed skepticism that we didn't need a QR code or something to actually pick-up the tickets.

The Chapel is, providentially, just around the corner from our hotel.  So we walked over.  Carol was confident I hadn't screwed this up (Spoiler Alert: I DID screw this up.)  I felt the rising panic of having messed up one of the most important parts of the trip, and the nice people at the ticket desk confirmed that I should be panicked.  

They were nice, patiently waiting as I hunted desperately for an email that wasn't there.  They also took my name and checked.  They had me look at my credit card bills to see if there was any information to be gleaned there.  A very nice woman who was a guide took pity on us and gave us some advice, and interceded on our behalf.

Finally, it was clear we had no hope.  But then they threw us a lifeline.

One of the ticketsellers told us to come back at 5pm and go to the desk next door to hers.  There a woman would be giving out the evening tickets, and often had a handful to sell.  So we walked out, down but not out, and I thought of the lyrics by the best Southern rock band of this century, the Drive By Truckers:

"Compelled, but not defeated
Surrender under protest if you must
Compelled, but not defeated"

(Editor: You worked DBT lyrics into a blog post about Padua, Italy?  Writer: Apparently.  Editor: Props to you!)

Fast forward to 4:45 pm.  I was of the opinion it would be better to be standing in line before 5pm.  It turns out there was one couple ahead of us, but they went to the wrong desk.  Did I feel sorry for them for screwing up?  No.  Not in the least.

So we stood in front of the ticket window, Carol and I boxing anyone else out as though we were Dennis Rodman waiting for a rebound, but neither of us were wearing dresses.  The line got longer and longer.  The wait got longer and longer.

Some people in line were probably picking their tickets up, but who knows?  If they already had tickets reserved for between 7 and 9:20pm, why would they need to show up early.  I like to think we were geniuses for getting there ahead of everyone else.

The ticket seller patiently printed out all the pre-ordered tickets for the night.  And then her computer crashed.  She would call tech support, do a few things, and then call tech support again.  After a while, Carol hit the ladies room, whilst I continued to hold my position.  

So, with Carol out of the room, the ticket seller stood up and leaned towards me.  I expected to hear, "no tickets available" or "it won't be working until tomorrow," but instead she said, "I have three for 8:00pm and three for 8:30pm."  

I restrained myself from grabbing her shoulders and giving her a big, wet, sloppy kiss of appreciation.  Not everyone appreciates big, wet, sloppy kisses of appreciation, even though I would.

I bought two for 8:30 as Carol came back.  I did say to the ticket seller, "Don't tell my wife, but I love you."  They both laughed (see, what makes it funny is that Carol WAS there when I said it.  Comedy is 50% the joke, 50% the delivery, and 50% the circumstances).

So, with a new lease on life -- and two tickets to chapel, we walked out triumphantly.  And quickly, so none of the other people realized that the four remaining tickets would be gone shortly after us and then try and beat us up for our tickets. 

In case you think I'm being all drama qween here, it's worth quoting Rick Steves here:

"Unfortunate souls arriving in Padua without a Scrovegni reservation can sometimes buy a same-day ticket, but don't count on it."