Why is Venice always Last?

Venice, ah Venice… Our final 2 days in Italy were spent in Venice. We arrived on the train from Florence, where not much weeping was done unless you count the sky. It started to rain as we packed off to the train station. When we hit the water outside in Venice it was misty and foggy, which as you can imagine, added to the spooky atmosphere of the city. The water was grey, the mist hid the horizon, and the islands were dark clumps until you got closer. It was the best possible way to arrive. We poured ourselves on the water taxi to our new home, armed with a city map that proved both invaluable and worthless at the same time. The thing about Venice is, it’s tiny. As I described it to a friend in college once, the height of the buildings, the narrowness of the streets and the water conspire to make it a very intimate city. Walking the streets to the B+B, some were barely wider than 2 people walking shoulder to shoulder; and those were normal city streets, not alleys. We walked and turned and then walked some more and then turned and turned and turned and then realized we’d come to a canal, which means we passed the apartment. Upon finding it, we rang the door. This place, I was told was on the 2nd floor without a lift, so we’d only have one flight of stairs to go up. Fine. And that was true. It was on the 2nd floor of the B+B which was on the 4th floor of the building. So 3.5 flights of very steep stairs later we arrived. Only to find that we had to go another floor up to our rooms. Curse you Italian builders!! Much panting and swearing later, we were settled, showered and ready to go. I led the charge, map in hand.

First order of business: canal ride. Oh, and find a toy smart car for the grandkids. Ironic that we’re looking for a toy car in a city that has none. Cars, not toys. Plenty of toys. And masks. Dear me the masks… I knew they would be plentiful. I knew they would be beautiful. But I was sadly underestimating the Venetians on both fronts. I’m now just as fascinated with the masks as I am with chandeliers. We saw the typical masks that are brought home, but also custom masks, masks that cost more than my rent, masks that shroud the entire head; glided, jewelled, carved leather, feathered, embroidered, painted, animals, fairies, gods, mythological creatures… the variety was endless. And mask shops were everywhere! You could easily spend weeks exploring them all. I tried. I had a day and a half; it wasn’t nearly enough. I would love to be there for Marti Gras when the entire city is in costume. It’s such a spooky and romantic city anyway, I can’t imagine what it would be like to see everyone masked and suited. Centuries ago, the law allowed people to wear their masks for several months leading up to Lent. People would go about their daily business dressed in costume. Sneaking around to see your mistress, flirting with your lover in plain sight, visiting places your social standing would never allow… Intrigue must have been innate in the Venetians.

Right, back to the canal tour… we wound our way to the Rialto Bridge, which is the ornate white bridge that is the symbol of Venice, thru a combination of map reading, yellow tourist sign reading and dumb luck. They spent a great deal of time marking the main piazzas and tourist attractions with yellow and black signs on the buildings, which is great, except that not once did the signs lead to the place we were trying to get to. We’d walk out of St Marks Square to find a sign for it pointing the opposite direction. If the city were larger, people would be wandering around lost with shredded clothing and wild beards, begging for rescue. Our first big decision was whether or not to take a gondola, a vaporetto or a water taxi for the tour. We asked a gondolier and he quoted us a price of $130 for 90 minutes. The Vaporetto was the same price. The water taxi was a few euros for all day access, which is what we decided to do. If your lucky (as we were) you can be seated on the very end of the boat which gives a great view and photos that don’t include that annoying tourist guy’s elbow or “Ciao Roma!” hat. We cruised the canal, the sun came out, and it was lovely. Until we realized we don’t know how to read the water taxi maps and were forced to get off the boat before we’d seen everything. I’d highly recommend anyone visiting to fork out the cash for the Gondola. Just budget it in the finances. We finally made our way to St. Marks where we fed the pigeons, as every tourist must do. In Rome you throw coins in the Fountain, in Florence you rub a boar statue, Milan you spin on the bull. Venice has pigeons. We just spent our first afternoon wandering, getting lost, buying souvenirs. It was probably our best first day on the trip. Although the flood in Rome was interesting…

That night I decided that, come hell or high water (hee…) I was getting a glorious meal since I’d missed de Rendola. We walked all over and couldn’t find any place suitable and, in truth, I walked them too far. The troops were getting cranky, so I got directions from a concerige to a few nearby places. We searched and searched but nothing. Finally, after disappearing down a dark street, thru a courtyard and under an archway, I found the place. It was amazing… and I was happy. The wine was the best we’d had the entire trip. The seafood just couldn’t have been any fresher. The service was really good. The rolls were burned. Ok, other than the bread it was amazing. And I was happy. We stopped for wine on the way home, hoping to find the same bottle, but went home with what is politely referred to as Vino di Tavolo, table wine. Nothing to write home about (unless you’re a blogger) but drinkable nonetheless. Well, ok, not so drinkable after a fantastic wine. But cheap. And it fuelled my newest wine theory: young wine stains your teeth. Mine anyway and we had a wine that was all of 20 minutes old one night. Out of a plastic bottle, no less! We found a place that makes wine and sells it by weight, including a plastic bottle. All class that. I’d like to report that it really wasn’t bad and that I’m just being a snobby wine snob, but. It just wasn’t my thing. Ah well… one less place to visit when I’m back for Marti Gras.

What else did we do in Venice? Melanie and I went into St. Marks Cathedral. It has always been one of my favourite facades, simply because it’s so over the top Byzantine ornate. (remember my fondness for chandeliers? It’s a theme.) This cathedral is amazing. The first thing I noticed, well anyone would, is the mosaic work. Every surface possible is covered with mosaic; pieces the size of a pea. Rich, glorious colour that is surrounded by gold mosaic tiles, the whole church just shimmers. Although it’s a big church, it’s much smaller than I’d thought, perhaps because we’d just come from the Grande Dame, St. Peters. They bring you in thru the side aisles because the floor in the centre, while being reserved for services, is so warped it’s almost impossible to walk on. Big waves roll across the floor about 6-8” high. It’s bizarre to look at and must be uncomfortable to sit on. You wander around the church side aisles to the front, where you have the option of crossing in front of the altar or paying an extra few euros to pass behind the alter and see the altarpiece, probably one of the most expensive things I’ve ever seen. If you can’t tell, I went behind the altar. It’s a 2 sided screen probably 6’high x10’long. One the side that faces the church during ordinary services it’s a beautiful painting. On the other side, which is only turned around for special services, including the feast of St. Mark, it is solid gold embedded with hundreds of jewels (diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls) and enamelware. It’s divided up into inner and outer scenes, each depicting acts of the saints I think, and is so heavy a machine to turn it around had to be devised and built into the base upon which it stands. Since it was late afternoon when I was there, light was pouring thru the arched windows on the façade, thru the church and landed just short of the altar. It made the whole church, from behind the screen, dark and faded like a Rembrandt painting, showing only the very centre portion where the action, when it arrived, would take place. Balancing that sunlit emptiness with the elaborate screen all the while standing underneath gold mosaic… It was just overwhelming. (I’ve got goose bumps now, just thinking of it!) I wandered round to the front just as a mass was starting in a side chapel and got to hear them sing. It didn’t echo as much as I’d expected. (Just so you know, because I had to read it while standing there: Venice was in need of a holy relic or a patron saint in order to legitimize the church and gain valuable income from pilgrims, so they sent a contingent of men to Constantinople to literally dig up poor St. Mark and bring him back to Venice so they could dedicate their church to him. Who says history is boring?!)

I then took the carved stone and very steep staircase up to the “choir loft”. (Slick stairs too, worn, dangerous going down I noted.) The upstairs is the main bookstore/gift shop and a museum with access to A - the balcony overlooking the Piazza and B - furtive touches of the gold mosaic. Whee! No, I didn’t take a piece. It was difficult but I managed to exercise some self-control. The museum was mostly mosaics they’ve rescued from the church, presumably before they crashed to the floor, some sculpture and a rather large exhibit on tapestries and manuscripts. I skipped thru that mostly and ended up standing in front of scale drawings of the façade and the models of the façade. The drawings were the size of a full sheet. As in bed sheet. 2 of them actually; one of the façade, on of the backside of the church. They were so detailed… and the wooden models were crafted to show how the façade was constructed, which types of marble were used where, and how the dome is held up. I can’t imagine doing any of it in the 4th century let alone now. (even with cut+paste) So much detail… it makes me wonder if the simplicity of modernism is really nothing more than a reflection of an impatient society and lazy draftsmen. (that should piss off the architects!) I did walk out on to the balcony and it is indeed the best view of Piazza San Marco as well as the grand canal, but I much preferred to stand in the light pouring thru the archways. Do you remember that vintage photo of Grand Central Station, where you can see the light cutting thru the darkness of the station? It was like that. And I was standing in it. sigh...

We had a nice dinner together, Melanie, Hippie and I in a piazza near the B+B. A jazz band was playing in the piazza just around the corner, but we could hear it perfectly. They played maybe 2 songs and then went on break until after we left. Nice food, good wine, a quick stroll to the water taxi stand I was waving good bye to them from the boat. The city was lit up; people were strolling to and from dinner, sitting on patios with friends. The water was dark and calm all the way to the train station where I boarded and left Italy again.