When it comes to souvenirs the most famous apart from the obligatory Gondola keyring is the Venetian mask. These are sold in their thousands to tourists from stands and hawkers at every opportunity. I can understand the Venetians fascination with the mask because Venice itself is the ultimate mask.
Venice hides in its lagoon, behind its waterways, it hides behind the faded grandeur of the Grand Canal.
Venice hides behind its Baroque facades and Gothic mansions.
We clambered on board our ferry keeping in mind that this was the one before last we could catch to reach the airport in time. A huge disappointment as this was a closed ferry with only a small window at the front from which to take pictures from and the rest of the windows were covered in watermarks from the spray caused by other boats.
One advantage though — at this stage we were the only people on the ferry at this time.
Due to this restriction, it really was a flash tour of the Grand Canal — impressions only — having said that it is not possible to walk alongside the Grand Canal and, to my knowledge, there are only two places where you can sit at a restaurant and dine overlooking the water.
Some of the grander hotels have a room with a view and small balconies — heaven knows what their room supplements are! So we were stuck with what we got.
I did manage to capture some of the atmosphere — once again there are some beautifully painted buildings and buildings of amazing proportions and stunning architecture. One cannot help but imagine what Venice was like in its heyday and who created and lived in buildings like this.
Having girded our stomachs with food and drink — well, ice cream and water — we set off in the general direction given to us by our very helpful gesticulating Italian Policeman.
Our route took us out of the heat and the seething masses of St Mark’s Square and into the shade of the maze of narrow backstreets that exist between and behind the main waterways. It takes some time for your eyes to get used to the lack of light.
Venice is similar to another famous canal city — Amsterdam — where the only way you can build is up! The backstreets are narrow — often one person wide — and I am sure some of them never see the light of day.
As you can see, we are walking in half light — at least on this street we could walk side by side.
One can only imagine the marketing strategies that you would have to employ if you had a business here to get people to your doorstep.
If Venice on the canals was chaotic — on land was far worse! We were woefully short on research and needed to find directions to our departure point for the ferry that went up the Grand Canal to the airport. The Italians are hopeless at directions.
The ticket officer for the ferry line we were using sent us in totally the wrong direction. She sent us back into St Marks square — over the narrow canal bridge and into the hordes of tourists which flock here in the summer.
All of my senses were telling me we were going in the wrong direction and Mr P had to agree with me that something was wrong when I fished out our basic map and said we should be going that way not this way.
I took refuge from the heat of the sun under the arches of the Doges Palace while Mr P went off in search of someone who knew their way around and to get us some sensible directions.
We were on a mission — to get the real flavor of Venice in an afternoon. If we liked what we saw, we would come back and spend more time exploring.
Venice has an undeniable reputation for being one of the “must see” cities in Europe — the famous floating city — or the famous sinking city — or should that be stinking? It is a city of water and of gondolas, rich in history and culture and once the trading center of Europe.
Our ferry took us along the north coast of Venice and around to San Marcos, past all the canal outlets and gave us a good view of what Venice was like behind the scenes. Once again we got reasonable seats on the ferry and I was able to take photographs out of the side windows as we motored past. I was surprised to see that there was room for greenery on the main island — this canal looked particularly shady and inviting.
We were up, breakfasted and out of the hotel on schedule. First stop, petrol station to fill up the car before leaving it at the airport. Go to the airport petrol station which is unmanned at that time on a Sunday morning and refusing to take foreign cards of any description — which means cash only. One problem with this — it only takes 20 euro notes — the five euro note slot is blocked — wonder if someone else tried to put their card in it?
We are told of several other petrol stations in the area and make our way to the first, the second, the third — all have the same problem — one petrol groups computers have obviously crashed overnight or are off-line for some reason. There is utter pandemonium as people get more and more frantic trying to fill up their cars — at the end there is a convoy of about 30 cars all trying to do the same thing — all of them with flights to catch.
We fill ours up until it will take no more — pass two and a half Euros credit on the pump to the next guy and make our way to the airport — our valuable time is ticking away. We park the car and run for the ferry terminal. The English woman in a hat is about to take on Venice!
During the day long drive back to Italy and to Venice we discussed the big question — should we relax and wind down for a couple of days or should we tackle Venice?
We were still not sure quite what we would do when we approached Venice and its well known fragrance assailed our senses — that was not a pleasant smell. We had been warned about this olfactory assault in advance — but to experience it full on was quite nauseating.
This did not lessen as we approached our destination for the next two nights — the rather grandly named Hotel Villa Marcello Giustinian. After checking in and talking to some other guests it was clear that at this time the hotel was downwind of Venice itself and Venice was the place to be.
Continue reading → Hotel Villa Marcello Giustinian: Rest Days
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