Ahhh Venice!!!
After our wonderful couple of days with Pam and John in Rome, Barbara and I were up early on Saturday morning and finding our way by Metro back to Roma Termini. We’d booked seats on the train to Venice and actually managed to find them without any serious problems. Right on time the train pulled out and we settled down for three hours. This was a long weekend and the train was full of Italian families heading off for a spring break, with lots of beautifully dressed and animated little kids with toys and crayons and games provided by their parents in the hope of occupying them on the journey. Also on board, were tourists like us and lots of American and English backpackers. We chatted to a young American student who came from New York and had never been abroad before. Believe it or not she was part of a college tour engaged in “Vatican Studies”. We assumed her professor had figured out a way to holiday in Italy once a year.
Outside we could see orange tiled towns flying by, interspersed with olive groves and vineyards. We passed through Bologna, Florence, Verona and Padua and finally Mestre where we alighted, only to find we should have gone on one more stop. Still the next train was only five minutes away, and soon we were pulling into the Venice station. A minute later we emerged into bright sunshine, with sparkling waters and boats of every kind. Being old Venice hands (this was our fourth visit) we headed straight to the Vaporetto ticket office and bought a 48 hour pass. Then we were disembarking at Santa Maria Del Giglio and hugging Fritha and Anthony who were waiting on the jetty. It took no time at all to find our way down a couple of narrow alleyways to the Hotel Torino, to check in, shower and change into summery clothes. Then it was out again and looking for a place for a
late lunch of bruschetta, panini and sandwiches, washed down with Italian beer or Pinot Grigio.
We spent the rest of the afternoon just wandering about, across the beautiful, and tourist packed Piazza San Marco, then plunging into that network of tiny streets, across canals with gondoliers plying their trade, drooling outside shop windows offering Gucci and Vuitton, Boss and all the other fashionable brand names of clothing and leather bags and Venetian masks and delicious ice cream, old books and smart shoes. You could spend a fortune here, but it costs nothing to look. We emerged onto the Grand Canal and walked across the beautiful arch of the Rialto, looking at more shops, and Anthony photographing everything that moved. Below the bridge, gondolas, motor boats, water taxis and vaporetti hurried up and down the canal, carrying passengers to the cafes and bars and restaurants lining the Grand Canal.Late in the afternoon we stopped at a bar on the edge of a little square, with a hotel and an old church opposite. There we enjoyed more wine and beer, and were entertained by a group of strolling musicians who played “Somewhere My Love “and more romantic Broadway numbers. It was quite delightful, but in the end we ha
d to pay them a couple of Euros to go away.
That was just in time for the bells of that nearby church to peal six o clock, and every other church in the city joined in.
We
wandered off down more laneways and alleys to a restaurant that our friend Pam had recommended called Goldoni’s. The walls were covered in photographs of stage and film stars, Italian and others, including our Nicole.
Dinner was pasta and pizza and fruit salad.
We saved coffee for later on, walking back to the Piazza San Marco where the side
walk cafes were starting to fill up, and their orchestras were tuning up.
On one side of the Piazza, the famous Cafe Florien still does business after some hundreds of years, but tonight we chose Quadri’s on the opposite side. A waiter in an immaculate white tux and white tie, served coffee on a silver tray, and we settled in to listen to the orchestra playing classical pieces, and some Broadway pieces.
As the evening progressed, and the orchestras on either side of the piazza took turns at entertaining us, we moved on to more Pinot Grigio or beer, and finally a bottle of chilled Prosecco, (Italian champagne) which was served in tall v sha
ped flutes on the silver platter.
We danced and watched other people dance, until around midnight, then wearily strolled back to our hotel, pursued by African street sellers intent on selling us cheap handbags.
On Sunday morning we slept late. Fritha and Antony slept even later so Barbara and I set out alone to explore the city on the other side of the Grand Canal . We wanted to see the church of San Giorgio Maggiore, and the adjacent Fondazione Giorgio Cini, a very old Benedictine monastery, now restored and containing some amazing paintings and the biggest library on art in Europe. The building is one of the earliest in the Palladian style, with colonnades and arched windows all around the cloisters.
A guide showed us around the place, including the gardens, the refectory dominated by an huge painting of the Marriage Feast of Cana, and the old library, with its distinctive smell of old books.
The church of San Giorgio Maggiore, also designed by Palladio, is best seen from San Marco, right across the water. Its huge dome and adjoining bell tower, dominates the horizon. Inside there are three aisles and many chapels and great paintings by Tintoretto among others.
Later on we walked to the area called the Giudecca, which is where Venice’s Jewish community once lived.
Then back late in the afternoon to meet up with Fritha and Anthony for drinks and dinner. They had been exploring the canals on a gondola. We found a lovely little outdoor bar with vines and herbs growing everywhere. Then on to dinner at a nearby trattoria. After that we enjoyed coffee at the Cafe Florien and watched the crowds in the Piazza San Marco. We decided on an early night and went to bed at around eleven.
We spent our last day in Venice doing the tourist classics. A visit to the church of San Marco and stood craning our necks up at the gold leafed domes with their biblical stories picked out in mosaic tiles. Outside, the Piazza was jam packed with tourists and holidaying Italians, almost crowding out the pigeons. This was Italy’s national day and part of the piazza was blocked off for a parade. The main players were arrayed in uniforms of all the services, including Alpine troops in feathered caps and mountain climbing backpacks. There were also men in ceremonial uniforms from the past, three cornered hats and plumes. Above the piazza they raised the flags of Italy, Venezia and the European Union.
We fought our way through the crowd and went inside the magnificent palace of the Doges, the Ducal Palace.
Once again we gazed in awe at the grand staircases with gilt painted plasterwork above us, and great salons with paintings adorning every wall. We passed through ante rooms and senate rooms and council chambers, each one more spectacular than the last.
Then, all too soon, it was time to collect our luggage and check out of our hotel. We had to be at Marco Polo Airport by mid afternoon, so we said goodbye to Fritha and Anthony and took a fast boat on a forty minute ride away from this beautiful timeless city. As I said, this was our fourth visit to Venice, and we count ourselves so fortunate to have been able to do this again. It would be greedy to wish we could go back again, but there is no harm in dreaming is there?
After our wonderful couple of days with Pam and John in Rome, Barbara and I were up early on Saturday morning and finding our way by Metro back to Roma Termini. We’d booked seats on the train to Venice and actually managed to find them without any serious problems. Right on time the train pulled out and we settled down for three hours. This was a long weekend and the train was full of Italian families heading off for a spring break, with lots of beautifully dressed and animated little kids with toys and crayons and games provided by their parents in the hope of occupying them on the journey. Also on board, were tourists like us and lots of American and English backpackers. We chatted to a young American student who came from New York and had never been abroad before. Believe it or not she was part of a college tour engaged in “Vatican Studies”. We assumed her professor had figured out a way to holiday in Italy once a year.
Outside we could see orange tiled towns flying by, interspersed with olive groves and vineyards. We passed through Bologna, Florence, Verona and Padua and finally Mestre where we alighted, only to find we should have gone on one more stop. Still the next train was only five minutes away, and soon we were pulling into the Venice station. A minute later we emerged into bright sunshine, with sparkling waters and boats of every kind. Being old Venice hands (this was our fourth visit) we headed straight to the Vaporetto ticket office and bought a 48 hour pass. Then we were disembarking at Santa Maria Del Giglio and hugging Fritha and Anthony who were waiting on the jetty. It took no time at all to find our way down a couple of narrow alleyways to the Hotel Torino, to check in, shower and change into summery clothes. Then it was out again and looking for a place for a
late lunch of bruschetta, panini and sandwiches, washed down with Italian beer or Pinot Grigio.We spent the rest of the afternoon just wandering about, across the beautiful, and tourist packed Piazza San Marco, then plunging into that network of tiny streets, across canals with gondoliers plying their trade, drooling outside shop windows offering Gucci and Vuitton, Boss and all the other fashionable brand names of clothing and leather bags and Venetian masks and delicious ice cream, old books and smart shoes. You could spend a fortune here, but it costs nothing to look. We emerged onto the Grand Canal and walked across the beautiful arch of the Rialto, looking at more shops, and Anthony photographing everything that moved. Below the bridge, gondolas, motor boats, water taxis and vaporetti hurried up and down the canal, carrying passengers to the cafes and bars and restaurants lining the Grand Canal.Late in the afternoon we stopped at a bar on the edge of a little square, with a hotel and an old church opposite. There we enjoyed more wine and beer, and were entertained by a group of strolling musicians who played “Somewhere My Love “and more romantic Broadway numbers. It was quite delightful, but in the end we ha
d to pay them a couple of Euros to go away.That was just in time for the bells of that nearby church to peal six o clock, and every other church in the city joined in.
We
wandered off down more laneways and alleys to a restaurant that our friend Pam had recommended called Goldoni’s. The walls were covered in photographs of stage and film stars, Italian and others, including our Nicole.Dinner was pasta and pizza and fruit salad.
We saved coffee for later on, walking back to the Piazza San Marco where the side
walk cafes were starting to fill up, and their orchestras were tuning up.On one side of the Piazza, the famous Cafe Florien still does business after some hundreds of years, but tonight we chose Quadri’s on the opposite side. A waiter in an immaculate white tux and white tie, served coffee on a silver tray, and we settled in to listen to the orchestra playing classical pieces, and some Broadway pieces.
As the evening progressed, and the orchestras on either side of the piazza took turns at entertaining us, we moved on to more Pinot Grigio or beer, and finally a bottle of chilled Prosecco, (Italian champagne) which was served in tall v sha
ped flutes on the silver platter.We danced and watched other people dance, until around midnight, then wearily strolled back to our hotel, pursued by African street sellers intent on selling us cheap handbags.
On Sunday morning we slept late. Fritha and Antony slept even later so Barbara and I set out alone to explore the city on the other side of the Grand Canal . We wanted to see the church of San Giorgio Maggiore, and the adjacent Fondazione Giorgio Cini, a very old Benedictine monastery, now restored and containing some amazing paintings and the biggest library on art in Europe. The building is one of the earliest in the Palladian style, with colonnades and arched windows all around the cloisters.
A guide showed us around the place, including the gardens, the refectory dominated by an huge painting of the Marriage Feast of Cana, and the old library, with its distinctive smell of old books.
The church of San Giorgio Maggiore, also designed by Palladio, is best seen from San Marco, right across the water. Its huge dome and adjoining bell tower, dominates the horizon. Inside there are three aisles and many chapels and great paintings by Tintoretto among others.
Later on we walked to the area called the Giudecca, which is where Venice’s Jewish community once lived.
Then back late in the afternoon to meet up with Fritha and Anthony for drinks and dinner. They had been exploring the canals on a gondola. We found a lovely little outdoor bar with vines and herbs growing everywhere. Then on to dinner at a nearby trattoria. After that we enjoyed coffee at the Cafe Florien and watched the crowds in the Piazza San Marco. We decided on an early night and went to bed at around eleven.
We spent our last day in Venice doing the tourist classics. A visit to the church of San Marco and stood craning our necks up at the gold leafed domes with their biblical stories picked out in mosaic tiles. Outside, the Piazza was jam packed with tourists and holidaying Italians, almost crowding out the pigeons. This was Italy’s national day and part of the piazza was blocked off for a parade. The main players were arrayed in uniforms of all the services, including Alpine troops in feathered caps and mountain climbing backpacks. There were also men in ceremonial uniforms from the past, three cornered hats and plumes. Above the piazza they raised the flags of Italy, Venezia and the European Union.
We fought our way through the crowd and went inside the magnificent palace of the Doges, the Ducal Palace.
Once again we gazed in awe at the grand staircases with gilt painted plasterwork above us, and great salons with paintings adorning every wall. We passed through ante rooms and senate rooms and council chambers, each one more spectacular than the last.
Then, all too soon, it was time to collect our luggage and check out of our hotel. We had to be at Marco Polo Airport by mid afternoon, so we said goodbye to Fritha and Anthony and took a fast boat on a forty minute ride away from this beautiful timeless city. As I said, this was our fourth visit to Venice, and we count ourselves so fortunate to have been able to do this again. It would be greedy to wish we could go back again, but there is no harm in dreaming is there?
No comments:
Post a Comment