Fabiola, Bogus, and I were in Venice once, 35 years ago, as part of a pretty hard core road trip in an old VW bus. We had started in Germany, moved through Switzerland, and eventually got into Italy. Looking at the map it seemed that I could take the autostrada to Milan and from there go to Venice (a mighty long detour it seemed to me), or I could take this other road across the hills and head directly to Venice. A no brainer, right? What I did not know was that the "hills" were the Dolomites, one of the roughest mountain ranges in the Alps. So there we were, climbing, climbing, and climbing and later descending, descending, and descending through one of the scariest roads I have ever seen (actually, I have seen plenty of other scary roads, but this one is still vividly clear in my mind). Eventually we made it to Mestre, in the middle of fog as thick as pea soup, spent the night in a camping place that was closed for the winter, and the following morning we drove into Piazzale Roma, parked the bus, and walked and walked through the city until we were almost dead with exhaustion. We liked it just fine, and Faby got to chase after the pigeons in San Marcos, but we didn't have a muzzle for Bogus so we could not board the vaporetto and visit the islands. The following day we moved farther south, on what ended being an epic trip, and I made a mental note that Venice did not have much to offer to kids and dogs.
This time my good luck was back, and I arrived by train to Venezia Santa Lucia with sun, relatively pleasant temperature, and a 48-hour pass for the network of vaporettos. I have decided to treat myself for the next two days, and booked a room in a palazzo right by the Gran Canal (the room is fine but, alas, my window gives to one of the narrow calles and not to the Gran Canal). But then again, I didn't come this far to stay in a room, so after dropping off my backpack I took to the calles on my way to the vaporetto station. Venice is just about perfect right now, with enough tourists to make it lively, but not so many that they dilute the life of this most peculiar city. Locals (mostly elderly ladies it seems) are going on about their business, and the tourist-traps are open and full of color. It is a pleasure to move through the maze of walkways and bridges, and even though I have always been boastful of my sense of direction I have to confess I veered several points off the compass in reaching my destination.
The vaporettos have different stations, and you need to know what you are doing before you line up for boarding (there might be as many as four boarding platforms at any given station), but once you figure out the trick the ride is a perfect joy. The laguna is crisscrossed by lanes marked by poles, which to the uninitiated seem like obstacles placed on the path of dozens of small vessels moving at high speed from one place to the other.
My first stop was on the small island of Burano, famous for its lace. I imagined a small fishing village, but it is in fact developed with a dense number of colorful tiny houses (just about what you would expect if Disney had created a small version of Venice). I was hoping I would find a quaint trattoria where I could have a simple grilled fish, but was disappointed and had to satisfy myself with a simple lunch of crackers and cheese, at the base of The Leaning Tower of Burano.
My second stop was Murano, famous for its many glass factories and beautiful art pieces made of glass. My parents treasured a glass centerpiece someone had given them as a wedding gift, and I believe it was made in Murano. Murano is very charming, and could again be a small version of Venice but more genuine than Burano. There is the added bonus that walking through the glass shops is like visiting a number of small art galleries, each with fabulous original pieces created by master glassblowers.
One of the challenges facing the tourist is the paucity of accessible toilette facilities. Unlike in the United States, here you pay to use the bathroom (50 cents, one euro, or 1.50 euros), and such facilities are often found near the transportation hubs. Not in Venice and its surroundings, however. The city supports twelve such facilities over the whole city, and they are hidden pretty well. The other option is to stop at a bar and have a coffee or a beer, which considerably increases the cost of the bathroom run, but pretty much condemns you to repeat the ordeal an hour later. Yes, you guessed it right, I was beginning to feel the call of nature, but my tourist instincts prevailed and I took the long way back to the city, just so I could approach Piazza San Marcos from the Gran Canal. Superb!
No comments:
Post a Comment