Venetian Holiday

Venice…a floating city at the crossroads of so many influences; Byzantines, Asians, Romans, Greeks, Northern Europeans, Turks, and Persians all passed through here at one point or another.  It was part Disneyland with tourist traps galore and lots to show off, and part still-stuck-in-the-Renaissance, constantly redefining itself.   We had five and half days to soak everything up.

Arriving in the early evening at the main train station, we set out bravely for our hotel on foot.  Maps were not helpful in what should have been a twenty-minute walk turned into a ninety-minute venture through countless alleyways, over bridges, and across piazzas.  I remember the Tolkien quote “Not all who wander are lost”, as we enjoyed looking at everything as we tried to gain our sense of direction.

Only as the church bells began ringing the next morning and the sunlight streamed through our windows did we realize the great adventure lying in front of us.  Around the corner, we discovered the Rialto Market, a sprawling collection of stalls showcasing the most gorgeous fruits, vegetables, and fish.  I later bought a bag of tiny clementines and a container of ruby strawberries.

The beaten path brought us into San Marco Square, where our first stop was the 11^th century Basilica.  We noticed the similarities to the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, such as domed roofs covered in gold Byzantine mosaics and intricately tiled floors.  The undertaking to build such a structure on marshland was impressive, but we could not help but notice that the church as well as the island was slowly sinking.   Stepping in to the Treasury, we noticed the precious loot, as well as supposed venerated relics, stolen from Constantinople during the Last Crusade. Tsk, tsk.  The Golden Altar showed more of the same.  The Basilica Museum upstairs was the first of many museums to impress us.  Not only did it give us a better look at the ceilings, but we were able to look at icons reminiscent of St. Catherine’s Monastery in the Sinai, and the Quadriga (Four bronze horses) also brought from Constantinople, although they most likely dated back to the time of Alexander the Great.  The focal point was the winged lion, the ecclesiastical sign of St. Mark, the city’s patron saint. As Florence’s David is a metaphor for that city state, so Venice assumes the persona of the powerful lion.

Aah, the romance of strolling the streets and we took care to take our time.  We continued to lose ourselves as we walked through the neighborhoods of San Polo, San Marco, and Santa Croce.  There were hundreds of shops selling colorful Carnivale masks, twinkling Murano glass, and imported trinkets of all kinds on the one hand and high-end purses, clothing, and other designer goods at the far end of the spectrum.  I was decidedly unfashionable in my ski jacket and hat. Other shops sold pastries, pizza, bread and foodstuffs.  Only when we started to venture into residential neighborhoods did we start seeing small hardware shops, corner markets, and other everyday shopping needs.   We bought snacks and a few meals at a small grocery store, which served as a great way to eat well as our guesthouse had a small kitchen to use.  We made bountiful salads, soup, and ate delicious focaccia.

One of our best meals was outside Venice proper to the east of the Arsenale. We sat outside in the sun and ate risotto al mare (with seafood) and spaghetti sepia al mare (with squid ink and cuttlefish).  Deliciously washed down with a carafe of red wine. Conversely, our biggest meal disappointments came in the busier center of the city where quality and presentation both lacked.   As we walked around, we stopped for gelato (trying a different flavor each day), a Bellini cocktail or mocha coffee, or other snack.  A popular eating point was the chicchetterie, where sandwiches and small bites were eaten while standing up.  Wonder bread sandwiches (with crusts cut off and filled with tuna, salami, prosciutto, or mozzarella) were never so delightful!  Other interesting inexpensive food finds included boxed red wine (not bad), Barilla pasta (same as at home), and meringues the size of softballs.

Another day, we walked to Accaddemia Gallerie to marvel at the works of native sons Titian, Tintoretto, Bellini, and Veronese, as well as medieval art.  In the Italian art world, Venice seems to take a backseat to Florence and Rome but is a treasure house unto itself, financed by wealthy merchants and powerful Doges.  It mirrored other centers of Italian Renaissance when Biblical art was transformed into more humanistic renderings.

Other museums included the Correr Museum and Doge’s Palace, both endless in their displays of paintings, sculptures, murals, furniture, and weapons. Similarly, we ducked into several churches – San Zaccario, La Salute, San Giorgio, and the Frari to name a few – to see masterpieces in situ.

During the first two and half days, we literally walked all over the island further discovering the neighborhoods of Santa Margarita, San Toma, and Castello.  Our feet were incredibly sore, but because our hotel was somewhat centrally located, we could easily pop in for a rest before heading out again.  On the third day, we also bought a valporetto ticket, which allowed us unlimited access to the water taxis.  That made the remaining two days much more pleasant as we hopped on and off the boat, looking at Venice from the water instead of the sidewalks.  We were glad to have pounded the pavement however because we made several pleasant culinary and shopping discoveries that we were able to revisit later on.

We did not know what to expect on the islands of Murano and Burano, but we found them to be positively delightful.  Although undoubtedly busier in the summer, we were pleasantly surprised by the sleepy character of both.  Murano is well-known for its glass blowers while the residents of Burano on the outskirts of the lagoon handknot different kinds of lace.  What we noticed immediately were the brightly colored houses that looked more like Central America than northeast Italy.  They were in direct contrast to Venice where the stucco had long worn off and the bricks were starting to deteriorate.  The church tower, like many in Venice, was leaning to the angle of the one in Pisa but this was the first we had heard about it.  Russ and I made fantastical plans to spend future summers here; he will varnish fishing boats while I read and write.  We will both learn Italian and eat fish everyday.

The weather was pleasantly cool and sunny on most days.  On the morning of our departure, it rained steadily, and we were doubly glad for the water taxi to ferry us down through the Grand Canal to the lagoon.  The city itself is an engineering marvel in how it built itself up from the marshy silt using wood pilings for its foundation.  The streets and buildings are constantly shifting, and it was easy to see the effects of rising water.  Repairs, deliveries, garbage, and sewage required creative but seemingly efficient solutions. 

The train ride back through the Dolomites and Alps to Innsbruck and then Munich was as scenic as before, noting vineyard after vineyard, terraced hillsides, and church steeples.  Entering Tyrol, the church steeples changed in style but not in number.  There was more snow but not as much as when we left a week ago.  The trip was peaceful and picturesque.

So ends our small-scale Grand Tour.  We were thankful for the opportunity to connect with friends and also to have plenty of time to really sink ourselves into Venice.  Some might say trip-of-a-lifetime, but I won’t, hoping to come back again some day.