Fall Travels--Part 3: Venice!

 

Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute on a stormy day

This is the third blog covering our recent trip to northern Italy. The first part can be found here and the second here. 

As I’ve said before, we like to do a bit of research about places we will be visiting. For Venice, one of our sources was the novels by Donna Leon, an American author with a series of crime novels set in Venice. I got a tip from the novel The Anonymous Venetian: it’s best to get a seat in the front of the train from Padua to Venice, as this avoids having to walk the length of the platform once the train arrives—at least, this is what one of her characters did. 

Well, her character ended up dead—shot—by the time the train arrived, but that was, after all, in a crime novel. Still, just in case, we rode in the third car. And arrived safely! 

It was quite a treat to step off the train (after walking the length of those last two train cars, of course) and be greeted by the dome of the church of San Simeon, straight across the Grand Canal. And our joy was in no way diminished by the realization that this sight had thrilled travelers for decades!

 

Chiesa di San Simeon Piccolo, right across from the train station!

Once over our awe of simply being there, we followed the canal to the nearest bridge, crossed over, and walked a zig zag course through the city to our lodgings, just off the Grand Canal but on the far side of the island.

 

These narrow streets contain many secrets...

...some quite enchanting!

While the route looked intimidating on the map, in reality it was not far, and we had a chance to explore some less traveled areas. We both found the streets of Venice to be highly reminiscent of those in the Medina¹ of Fez: narrow pathways that had been trod for hundreds of years, confined between ancient walls of stone or brick, and occasionally tunneling right through a building, with exposed ancient wooden beams supporting the floors above.

        ¹The old town, the original core—la vielle ville—of an Arab city

 

Saint Mark's Square... even with construction and crowds, it's still stunning!

I went through some decidedly mixed feelings about Venice. I felt an overwhelming sadness… At one time, Venice was a mighty empire, controlling territories both inland and along the Dalmatian coast of the Adriatic Sea as far away as Greece. And today, it’s mostly just a spectacle for tourists; yet another location for name-brand chain stores. (Or, as another character in The Anonymous Venetian put it, “We used to have an empire, now we have this… Disneyland.”)

 

The "ladybugs" of Saint Mark's Cathedral--the doms--in the early evening.

A detail from the cathedral: the winged lion, symbol of St. Mark and the city of Venice

Signs of the former empire are everywhere, particularly in the magnificent palaces along the Grand Canal. And everywhere, they are crumbling, sinking, becoming irretrievably waterlogged. That part is very sad.

 

Magnificent buildings from another era; today, hard to keep your feet dry!

Yet there is a uniqueness to Venice that continues to make it attractive. It was an empire like no other, and is still a city, a place, an idea that has no equal.

 

The iconic Rialto Bridge, built in 1591

Us, on the Rialto Bridge (sometime after 1591),

And no cars! Many city centers have banned the automobile, but there are always exceptions: residents, delivery trucks, taxis. But there are NO cars in Venice. No bicycles, no scooters, no mopeds. There’s people walking, and there’s boats. And the things that come in by boat get carried to their final destination by people walking. And where else in the world does that happen? (Well, the Fez Medina, but there it’s donkeys, not boats, carrying goods!)

 

The "sports car" of Venice.

Delivery boats, bringing toilet paper and bottled water. (And hauling away the garbage!)

We hear often of how rising waters spell the end of Venice. And we did see canal water lapping at the thresholds—and sometimes well over the thresholds—of once-palatial residences. But high water is nothing new for Venice; indeed, Ms. Leon dealt directly with it in one of her novels, Aqua Alta (High Water). We had our own aqua alta experience in St. Mark’s Square. I thought the water flooding the square was the result of the nighttime rain, until Paula pointed out that water was jetting up between the flagstones. A quick check with a tide table showed we were approaching high tide during a new moon, with a tidal range of more than a meter (very high, for the Mediterranean! Something to do with being ‘way up at the northern end of the Adriatic, I think).

 

Aqua alta in St. Mark's Square. Note the portable bridge...

In this part of the city, no portable bridge! During aqua alta, remember to bring your rubber boots.

Anyway, I came to understand the use of those portable walkways I’d seen: they helped the tourists get to the cafés on the other side of the Square! We would see these walkways, and water lapping over walkways, in other parts of the city, too. Another example of how far Venice has, er, fallen.

 

Ah, but it's not all crowds and flooded walkways!

Canals and bridges, bridges and canals. That's the Bridge of Sighs, right in the middle of the top photo.

 

From the lagoon, looking north: those must the the snow-capped Italian Alps!  (Off on the right...)

         The Islands in the Lagoon

Of course, it was essential that we take a ride through the Grand Canal, a service provided many times a day by public transportation by the bus-boats called vapporetti. Turns out a ride costs €7.50, a bit stiff for one-way. Naturally, there is a daily pass, for €20. But would we really take that ride more than twice (the break even point)? Our dilemma was resolved when we learned that the pass was also good for the boats that cruised the lagoon, and visited the islands of Murano (of glass-blowing fame) and Burano (of colored-house and lace fame). So we bought two-day passes for €30 and planned to spend the next day on the water. 

The public boats actually stop at several islands in the lagoon. There are many other islands, some requiring special tours or a private boat to visit, but we spent our time on Burano.

 

Nearing the island of Burano..

On the way to the dock.

Arriving by boat (and how else can you arrive to an island with no airport?) presents a colorful scene, as each house is painted a different, vivid color. Legend has it that these colors helped fishermen returning on a foggy night to find their own home; now I expect it’s done to help guide the tourists.

 

Beautiful lacework in a store on Burano.

A typical "street" on Burano.

Laundry and a smooch on another Burano street.

 

Would I go back to Venice? Maybe. I’d go back for a minimum of two weeks, to have time to explore lesser known areas and get a better feel for the city. In our few days there we, like everyone, started with the high points: the Rialto Bridge, St. Mark’s Square, touring the Grand Canal. But one night, while Paula felt like resting, I went out in the dark wetness to wander. There were few people about—who’s going to go out in the rain, anyway?—so I felt I had the place to myself. 

The similarity to the Medina was strong in the darkness, as I wandered the narrow deserted streets; until my path was interrupted by a canal. Perhaps a tall arched foot bridge allowed me to continue; or maybe my path truly was blocked and I had to turn around. And that’s when I felt the real charm, the uniqueness of Venice.

 

Chiesa di San Giorgio Maggiore, seen from the boat in the lagoon.

   Next up: The forth and last part of our Italian trip: Prosecco and Turin.