Venice

 

Venice is a place that has always held an appeal to me, a place to visit at some point.  An Italian jewel on the Adriatic coast, a destination on the Orient Express back in the golden days of luxury train travel that various nations and operators are trying to re-create (though not, it appears, dear old Blighty).  A major Mediterranean cruise destination all year round, depositing on most days tens of thousands of loud Americans, manically smiling Japanese and wealthy Chinese, all frantically scrambling through the narrow streets to get the obligatory gondola trips (and squabbling over queue jumping), madly snapping selfies with or without sticks to hold their iPhones, and blocking the bridges (and everyone else's chance of crossing the canal) while they do so.  Meanwhile harassed tour guides, waving little flags and/or umbrellas, yell incoherently in multiple languages as they try to keep their groups together and interested in the commentary.  Little back street bistros and bars, selling enticing plates of sea food snacks, pastas and aperol spritzers, sometimes surprisingly affordable and sometimes ludicrously expensive -  as a rule of thumb the closer the place is to one of the tourist hotspots (like St. Mark's Square for instance) the pricier the place will be.  Go to a little back alley, look for one packed with customers speaking Italian and the better and less expensive the place is likely to be: catering for the locals is always better value.  Street hawkers and stalls, mostly staffed by Indians and Tamil and Malays nowadays, flogging the usual selection of replica football shirts from Italian and Spanish clubs, fridge magnets, a variety of copied traditional face masks from the balls the city is famous for, and assorted tourist tat at exorbitant prices further block the narrow streets.  And let's not forget the bigger stores, the international outlets like Starbuck's, and Nike, Chanel and Desigual and the rest.

All life is there, for good or ill.  But there are quieter places, often stumbled across as you try to get from one tourist attraction to the next and avoid the cruise-ship crowd.  Within a ten minute stroll of the Sta. Lucia rail and bus terminus there is a small courtyard-cum-though lane, perhaps a hundred metres long, with narrow tenement buildings four and five storeys high, small balconies and high shuttered windows open and net curtains flapping in the light breeze: apartments all.  There were small gardens before the front doors, packed with trees some the height of the buildings, their boughs overhanging the balconies and providing more shade from the hot Adriatic sunshine.  The hustle and bustle of the island city was muted by the surroundings, and few people were passing through (mostly locals with shopping bags and  the odd lost - or more adventurous? - tourist).  As fine a place to live as I have seen,,,,,

At the end, it opened out into a slightly wider square, in the corner of which an unobtrusive door opened into the Leonardo da Vinci Museum.  It's a fascinating place, full of copies of the great man's paintings with plaques explaining their histories and techniques and the finer points of their composition.  Another section is dedicated to his scientific studies, including a big replica of his extraordinary Vitruvian Man figure that explains perspective and its relationship to the human figure, a separate small cabinet with half a dozen mirror walls that allow you see dozens of reflections of yourself from different angles, a 360degree view of yourself (without moving a muscle).....I felt quite dizzy.  Then there are exhibits describing his medical experiments and discoveries - the first to accurately map the system of blood vessels, veins and arteries that keep us allive, for instance, and the musculature system that keeps us moving - and the primitive tools (saws, scissors, pliers and so on) that enabled him to conduct his research....  The upper floor is dedicated to his engineering feats and gadgets: the first parachute, the first tank, the first machine gun (no, really!) are replicated and explained, as is a bridge that could be scaled up to cross rivers and streams, and easily assembled and dis-assembled without a nail or rope in sight. There are half a dozen small scale models that challenge you to build it yourself by copying the way the spars slot together on the full-sized replica....  I spent the best part of two hours wandering around, entranced by the man's genius and achievements in his 67 year life (for comparison I am 72 and apart from my kids have achieved bugger all really).  I can't recommend the place highly enough.

Opposite the museum, another discovery: back in Renaissance times Venice was the home of several schools and centres of learning, and here was the art scuolo.  From the outside it simply looks like just another of the big churches and basilicas that are scattered throughout the island. Go through the main doorway and you are in a cavernous open space, with a dark tiled floor, stained glass windows and paintings, dark and indistinct, lining all floor walls.  It's impressive, but I felt disappointed.  To the right, next to the obligatory book and gift shop, a marbled staircase leads to a wide landing and thence to a second floor - and here is the magic.  The upper floor, reached by a further impressive central marble staircase and a similar size to the ground floor, is much brighter, better lit and I suppose with clearer pigmentation in the windows.  Again, the tiled floor is impressive, and the seats lining all four walls and facing into the central space offer the chance to sit and take in the beauty of both the architecture and paintings mounted throughout.  The jewel in the museum's crown is a separate room leading off from the main space next to the stairs that houses a selection of works by the Italian master Tintoretto.  Central to the collection is a huge work depicting The Crucifixion, his most famous painting, and I have to say I've never been more impressed by a work of art.  Unlike most depictions of Christ's Passion that are typically dark and gloomy (as suits the subject matter), Tintoretto's is in brighter colours that paint a vivid scene.  The figures contained are superbly worked: the mucles straining and sweat standing out on the torsos and faces of the men straining on the ropes as they drag one of the Crosses upright and the agonised expression on their victim's face portray as no other depiction of the scene I've ever seen the sheer brutality of the action.  We sat for perhaps half an hour just looking at this painting, and absorbing its complexity and, yes, beauty.  Quite extraordinary and worth the admission price on its own. 

We made copious use of the vaporettos (the water buses) that criss-cross the canals and the outlying lagoon to the other islands: I hadn't realised the city was simply the largest (and man-made) central island. A three day City Pass ticket cost 40 euros amd provides unlimited journeys on the water and land buses, trams and trains serving the rest of the city, including those on the mainland.  Our airbnb rental was in the mainland suburb of Venice Mestre, and the number 12 bus that stopped right outside the building whisked us across the causeway from there to Sta. Lucia in not more than 15 minutes.  From there we were able to hop on and off the vaporettos as we liked, or stay on (depending on the route: there are several to choose from) for the length of the Grand Canal that twists through the island's heart past all the major landmarks like the Bridge of Sighs, the Rialto bridge (with its covered market stalls and shops) and Saint Mark's Square with the Basilica and Doge's Palace, and thence across the lagoon to the Lido (home of both a sandy beach and Venice Film Festival, Leonardo di Caprio's favourite), Murano with its glass factories and artisan blowers (free demonstrations and tours of the workshops) that produce stunning glass ornaments, vases and tableware, and Burano with its streets lined with pastel coloured houses (every one a different colour) housing family businesses of lace making, cafes and bistros.  The vaporetto to cover all three of them makes up an enchanting afternoon, and we chose the hottest and sunniest day of the week for our tour.  The home made pizza and cold (local) beer for lunch we had at a tiny cafe on one of the Murano waterfronts (the island has its own smaller canal system) was probably the best meal we had all week.

We had a great trip.  Our flight deal on Ryanair was ridiculously cheap, even by O'Leary's standards, and landing at Treviso thirty kilometres or so away from Venice was no problem: it gave us the opportunity to try out an Italian regional train service into Mestre station (ten minutes walk from our airbnb rental) and it was fine.  We also used the rail service for a daytrip to Verona an hour and half ride away, which was a fun day out.  It's a nice city, with a colloseum that looked in better nick that its better known Roman equivalent, a street market next to it (at least on the day we were there: some excellent cheese and chorrizo sausage snacks a highlight), designer shopping, and a beautiful central Old Town square surrounded by its own array of small bistros and containing another open-air market.  Verono is also, of course, the setting for Shakespeare's classic Romeo & Juliet, and the city's government is unashamedly cashing in.  Close to the Old Town square is a small courtyard surrounded by medieval buildings: one of the small balconies is "identified" as Juliet's (on what basis I have no idea).  Tickets to view cost 40 euros bookable only in advance, for which you are sent a QR code on your mobile.  You join the queue - when we were there this was a good 100m long - and eventually your code is checked and scanned by security and you are allowed in in groups of half a dozen, given five minutes to take your pictures and selfies, then shepherded away for the next group.  We gave it a miss.

Venice met my expectations completely.  It's a beautiful, atmospheric place, with some stunning sights and excellent shopping and dining options.  Public transport is varied and sensibly priced and, let's be honest, iconic (even though we missed out on the gondola trip). Mestre, on the mainland. is quite different, and seems to be the area in which the large immigrant population are housed: there were many kebab houses, Indian, Chinese and Arabic cafes, bars and restaurants.  It's a grubbier, grimier part of town but for all that has a charm of its own, with many lovely old buildings (including our old and solid apartment block) and a superb street market that we spent an hour so exploring (and ended up buying a tee-shirt, over three kilos of assorted local cheeses and salami sausage that made packing to come home challenging - but we managed!).  Our accomodation was also considerably cheaper than we would have paid on Venice island itself, but although in an old and shabby looking block was very well sized, comfortably furnished and with a kitchen and two bathrooms shared with other guests, enabled us meet and talk to people visiting from southern Italy and France - it added to the fun of the trip.

I can't wait to go back!