"This is life." Part 3

Venice – Feb 26

Part 3 of the 5 part series on my trip to Italy. Please forgive me for taking a tremendous amount of time to post this.

The morning of Feb. 26, a Tuesday, Kitty, Arlieke, and I said our goodbyes to Florence from the seats of a bullet train hurtling its way across the countryside and through mountains towards the great canal city of Venice. By the way, hurtling, in this sense, is a train filled with passengers clipping along the tracks around 230 kilometers per hour. I had to look up the conversion for those of us still using the Imperial system of measurement: ~140 mph a.k.a. Fast.

My mind wandered as the blurred fields and mountains swept passed the window. Stone houses dotted the fields, while villages and small towns blanketed the feet of the mountains. Sooner than I thought possible, the train slowed and began to cross an expanse of track elevated over the sea. A glance out the opposite window to my right showed the blue-green waters hugged by a distant shoreline. I moved my stare back to my side of the tracks: more blue-green water, shimmering in the sunlight.

Blue-green waters shimmering in the sunlight.

Across the neck of water, the train stopped inside the station. With bags in hand, we stepped off of the train and into the most wondrous city my eyes have ever had the privilege to behold. Blinking the sun away, I took in the city one breath at a time from the steps of the station. A sturdy, stonework church stood to our left, the first canal of the trip separated us from the rest of the cityscape, and, to our right, the waterway opened up to the sea beyond. My feet were rooted to the steps, a minute, even two, passed as I stood on the steps smiling at the brilliance before me.

A sturdy stonework church

The San Simeone Piccolo near Santa Lucia train station

The weight of my duffel bag on my shoulder brought me back to the list of priorities: baggage storage, then explore the city. We deposited our bags in the station, promising a 5€ payment later in the afternoon before we were to check into the hotel.

We returned to the steps, took another breath of the sun-filtered sea air, and continued on to buy tickets for the public transport around the canals, let’s call it a Canal Bus (the Italians have a much better word for it, I’m sure). The Bus, though in appearance cumbersome, proved to be quite agile as the captain guided it along the busy waterway. Crossing from one side to the next, the Bus made regular stops: local Venetians, bright-eyed tourists like myself, enamored couples, and the occasional group of I’m-too-cool-for-school teenagers.

The waters of Laguna Veneta

Looking out on the Adriatic Sea

The Bus gathered speed as it left the isolated canal: we were now on the wider lagoon, the Laguna Veneta. Broad steel ships gently swayed at their docks, smaller fishing boats headed out for less crowded waters—we were headed back to the city canals. Our final destination would be the famed Piazza San Marco.

A view of the Grand Canal of Venice

Ancient structures faced the channel; greeting the Bus each time it crisscrossed the watercourse. For me, these magnificent buildings had faces, but were nameless. Our time in Venice would be short, less than 24-hours—this meant most of these architectural feats would have to stay unnamed.

An unnamed lighthouse on the Grand Canal

Our first view of Piazza San Marco

The Canal Bus lightly bounced against the floating dock. Soon, the tide of people pulled us toward the Piazza. We passed the Bridge of Sighs—an artifact from a time when prisoners were locked away from the crash of the waves and the light of the sun, the small windows offered a final glimpse of the free world outside the stone and iron to many condemned criminals.

Bridge of Sighs

Richly dressed gondoliers dotted the path nearest the channel, beckoning to the crowds. Masked figures, dressed to the nines, posed on wooden boxes: a euro for a photo, more if they were silver-tongued. The Piazza San Marco unfurled to our right: the intricate basilica to our right, the neck-craning campanile to our left, and the main expanse of the piazza extended farther to the left (the “L” shape, but turn the “L” backward).

Campanile of San Marco

The decision was made to take the elevator to the apex of the campanile. A short queue later, we ascended: the city unfurled beneath or silent gazes. To our right, the maze of alleys and canals spread across greater Venice; to our left, only La Giudecca and Lido di Venezia besmirched the endless horizon of the Adriatic. Under the great bells of the campanile, emotion runs rampant: awe and amazement, joy and wonder, and others without proper names to describe their volume. The feeling of a place fills you up, bubbling over and spilling out: small laughter, beaming grins, and the Oohs and Ahs of pure enjoyment.

View from the Campanile: horizon of the Adriatic

View from the Campanile: maze of greater Venice

View from the Campanile: greater square of the Piazza

We descended, finally stepping out into the greater square of the Piazza. Pigeons swarmed the plaza, gathering around food-offering tourists and beating a hasty retreat from sly children planning their best pursuit. Wielding a bundle of breadsticks, we were soon surrounded by the birds: some perched on our shoulders, while others fastened themselves to backpacks and the tops of heads. The bravest, or possibly greediest, of the pigeons settled themselves on our wrists and hands pecking at the crumbs in our palms.

Later, after stumbling across an article filled with fun facts about Venice, I found that feeding the pigeons in Piazza San Marco is an illegal act. We had become unsuspecting criminals and laughed the entire time. I had given one of the breadsticks to a small boy, he smiled and gave an endearing, “Grazie.” Thank you. That’s me, incriminating small children one breadstick at a time.

We had fed the pigeons, and now it was time to find ourselves a bite to eat. Winding our way through the streets away from San Marco’s, we found a small bistro near one of the canals, bought a slice of pizza, and sat down to eat on the steps of a bridge, looking directly through the window of another pizza establishment. Suddenly, instead of cheese and tomato sauce, the restaurant had found a new ingredient for their pies: pigeon. The panicked bird flew in through the open door, over the counter, and into the window we were sitting in front of. Flapping frantically against the glass, the pigeon was in over its head. Pizza production came to a standstill as the group of workers puzzled themselves with the best way to humanely remove the creature from the shop. Five minutes later, after the short scuffle between pizza girl and pigeon, the bird flew from the shop. Luncheon and a show.

Have you ever walked through Wonderland? The flowers speak, the caterpillars blow smoke, and the cats disappear with a smile. Obviously you’ve never been to Venice. The light shines between the buildings. The waterways sparkle as sunlight dances across the waves created by the gondolas and vaporettos cutting along the water. The mundane becomes magical as the ancient city sweeps you away. Storefronts stare you down from paper-maché visages: masks laughing and crying, fantastical beast masks with fur and feathers, long noses and broad cheeks—hundreds of masks meant for the great celebration of Carnevale.

It is a wonderment usually found it dreams, brought to life by centuries, each Venetian soul adding to the greater memory of the city.

We found our way to Ponte di Rialto, crossing the Grand Canal. Our rambling soon brought us back to the train station. We collected our bags and walked down the street passed the sturdy church to our hotel. The Casa Gerotto Calderan offered a second-floor room with a view of the stone courtyard below. From our window, we spotted a gelato stand; it was time for an afternoon snack.

View from the window of Casa Gerotto Calderan

2€ and a short walk to a nearby park later, I found my gelato cup empty. For grief sake, it tasted like brownies. It didn’t stand a chance. If you find yourself in any Italian city, make sure to add gelato to your diet. Remember, calories don’t exist on vacation.

Sunset in Venice: priceless.

With the light slowly fading, we decided to walk back toward San Marco’s to find something for dinner. The streets bustled with tourists and vendors. While Kitty and Arlieke inquired about souvenirs, I stepped into a maskmaker’s workshop: masks hung from the ceiling and lined the walls. The husband and wife duo stood at the counter as I wandered around the shop. Soon, the woman approached me, smiling, and explained that she was the maskmaker, or mascherari in Italian. In English, she explained that the traditional Venetian masks were crafted from the Italian Comedie. She explained that there was a set of characters commonly used for the masks; any characters outside of the set were fantastical creations of the craftsman.

A long-nosed creation caught my eye, I pointed to it, and she took it down and handed it to me.

“The Captain,” she smiled. “Try it on.”

I fastened the mask to my face and looked at my blurry portrait in the mirror.

“Now you’re ready for next year’s Carnevale!”

I left the shop with my Captain mask wrapped tight ready for travel and met back up with Kitty and Arlieke. Near the Piazza San Marco, we found a suitable restaurant. I ordered the salmon gnocchi with a glass of sauvignon blanc, a spectacular decision. Flavorful and light, just enough to leave me completely satisfied.

Ponte di Rialto by night, the path back to the hotel.

After dinner, we continued on through the lamp lit plaza. Circling around the heart of the city, our path led us back to the Casa Gerotto Calderan. Our train would leave Venice at 5:20 AM, giving us a few hours to enjoy our hotel comforts. I slept deeply, rising quickly in the wee hours of the morning. Lanterns lit the street as a light rain fell. The city of wonder would soon be behind us, we carried with us a few souvenirs and a memory to last a lifetime, touched by the great canal city of Venice.

Part 4 and 5, Verona and Milan respectively are coming soon. Adventure on, mes amis!