On the morning of April 3rd, we awoke to hear the clanging of the bells and wondered at the timing. It seemed a long and loud peal for the simple half-hour mark we had just reached.
We found out later in the day it was due to Pope John Paul II's death, and throughout our day in Venice the bells followed us, pealing loudly at the 15 and 30 minute marks. On the hour they rang only the time.
We gathered our things for our day's excursions and headed out East, into the Canareggio district of the city, intent on seeing that area before we needed to check out at 11AM, then wandering the rest of the city and catching a train out of the station bound for Bologna at 18:02.
We set out through Canareggio and took pictures of local doors, pets, and people. Capturing images that are not visible anywhere else in the world. Hopefully I will get the chance to upload some of these soon. They show the colour and temperament of the city better than my words ever will.
Waiting
The Morning News
Archway
We found, on our walks, a supermarket (the only we had seen in the city) and we decided we would return to it before we left town to do some much-needed grocery shopping. Our supply of breads, meats, veggies and cheeses for lunch was dwindling and we would need more for our travels across northern Italy to Pisa and Firenze (Florence).
After our walk through the Canareggio area, we returned to the hotel and readied our bags, then left them near the desk and checked out, telling them we would return for them before our train that evening.
As we were checking out, we overhead a conversation between a bearded American traveler about our own ages and an associate of his, and heard them mention a promising hostel in Florence, "Florence Inn". We resolved to check that place out if we wound up in Florence during our travels, and this led us later to discover one of the warmest, and most enjoyable of our hostel stays.
After we had finished our arrangements with the desk, we set out into the southern portion of the city, the only part we had yet to explore, and made a large loop around and back through its heart, to cover all new areas and see new places.
As we set out, we found ourselves captivated by the smells from a local Kebap place (not what we think of in the States, with little things on sticks, Kebaps are actually sandwiches, served by cutting thin-sliced meat from a long rotating skewer directly into a heated pita pocket. They are fantastic.) and we stopped for lunch, and after, some of the fantastic Italian Delicacy known as gelati. Gelati is the best method of service Ice Cream in the world, creamy and soft, almost mousse-like in texture and full of strong and lingering flavours, it is difficult for me to walk past any gelati place and not buy a scoop of stracciatella or cappuccino, even if I'm already carrying on in my hand.
Of course I had to introduce this fantastic dish to 80, and we ordered small amounts to keep from setting off her allergy to milk. As a child with a bad case of bronchial asthma which triggered off of dairy for many years, I know how horrible food allergies can be, and we have been taking care not to aggravate hers, but still let her try the best and boldest of the European specialties, many of which are cheeses, butter-pastries, and cream-based-desserts. It's been a tough balancing act, but we've done well so far.
We intended to reach San Marco Square (named for the Patron saint of Venezia) sometime early in the afternoon, and so found ourselves on the southern tip of the town, which offers a fantastic view of the southern islands and the city behind you, on a small dock. Due to some repairs being done to the very tip of the area, we couldn't walk strait through, and so found ourselves stopping in the middle of a conversation between a quiet young blonde fellow named Eduardo and a swarthy and garrulous American named Navine.
They were discussing the places they had seen and would see, and I soon found myself jumping into their conversation. Navine was a fascinating fellow and a nice guy, and happily shared advice on the places he had been and asked questions about the area of Germany we had visited. We sat on the water and 80 slowly fell asleep while we talked about everything from the contrasts of pre-and-post-war architecture in Germany, to the beauty of San Francisco and the west coast.
80 in Venice
Before we left Navine recommended we visit the San Marco bell tower. The 6 euro cost, he said, was more then worth it, since you can see the whole city from up there.
We left them on the bank still watching the taxis and ferries weave their busy web south of the island and continued our walk, arriving in San Marco within an hour and quickly jumping in line for the bell tower.
At the top, we were amazed and overjoyed by the great view afforded us of the entire city/island. The day was very clear and we could plainly make out landmarks near our hotel and across the entire skyline of Venice.
After we returned to the earth, we took turns entering the basillica (a bag limitation meant we couldn't enter together, each had to hold the others bag) and we marveled at the intricate mosaics which cover the entire interior surface of the cathedral.
After San Marco we continued on through the city and saw one of the common sights of Europe that I had missed in Paris -- a poser! Posers are people who adopt certain stances or poses in public places, often as a form of entertainment for tips. Many play the part of statues for the amusement of tourists near public buildings, and this was the form ours took. He had mounted himself about a meter in the air on a cylinder and was wearing all white paint and a white robe and holding a peacock feather. He would adopt a pose with the feather and wait long enough for the crowd (fast moving between attractions in this location) to rotate enough that few had seen him move, then tap an unsuspecting passerby with the feather and resume his pose, shocking tourists and amusing those sitting in the cafes and watching him interact with the crowd. We left him a tip and got a picture with Adrienne.
Poser!
We continued on and viewed the well known Ponte de Sospiri -- the Bridge of Sighs. It is a haunting and beautiful bridge, its visage made more chilling by knowledge of how its name was acquired. The bridge sits between the sentencing house and the primary jail of Venezia, and the prisoners who were condemned to sentences were ushered across it into the waiting prison beyond. The small barred windows of Ponte de Sospiri afforded them their last glimpse of the glory and splendour of Venice and the waters and islands beyond before they entered the darkness of the prison.
After we had viewed the most well known points of Venice, we contented ourselves with walking back through the center of the city, viewing Rialto Bridge and then continuing back to our supermarket to shop for food. As it turns out, 80 must have been starving, because we wound up buying a significant portion of the store. Among our purchases were three bottles of Bellini, called the cocktail of Venice. It's a local drink that the locals likely never touch, but we were intrigued and we put one of the bottles to good use, as you will hear in a moment.
We finished our shopping then headed to our hotel and grabbed our bags. At this point, we split up. 80 headed back to the internet cafe, to search for a list of hotels and hostels in Pisa, and I headed for the restaurant where we had enjoyed our lovely dinner the night before, to order us a pizza to go.
These tasks completed, we met at 5:30 on the steps facing the Grande Canal, just in front of the train station, and savoured our last few minutes in Venice, complete with delicious pizza and the slightly-sweet but very nice Bellini.
I have a tradition of collecting sand from the beaches of the waterfront locals I visit overseas, and I had found myself puzzled about Venice. There is no sand to collect, but it is most definitely the ultimate city on the water. So it was that I set out to capture the local environment anyway. Our (thankfully screw top) Bellini bottle empty, I clambered down the steps to the water's edge and filled the bottle, then resealed it and we headed for the train.
If I ever have children, when they ask me why there is one bottle full of murky and mysterious water sitting among the bottles of sand, I will tell them this: "That bottle contains the lifeblood of one of the most magical cities of the world."
Next up: Pisa. ("Taking over my sister's job") or ("Green Men give the best directions--in Italian").
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