I hate it when the weather forecast is correct. They had forecasted a 20% chance of rain by 10 am, and it arrived like clockwork. Fortunately I was carrying my umbrella with me, so besides slightly damp feet I was able to ignore the inclement weather.
But to start at the beginning, come 9 am I was out there exploring the labyrinth of calles and campos, enjoying the city as it came to life (Venetians are not early risers). There is a sense of excitement as you emerge from a corridor no wider than you shoulders into a campo with an old church on one side, a small bar on the other, and a shop that offers whimsical masks for carnival. I think I could have done that all day and be extremely happy with my visit to Venice. But then it started raining and I thought it might be a good idea to retire to a museum. I ended visiting several, two of which were palazzos in the grand scale: Palazzo Grimani and Casa d'Oro. The former was built buy one of the Doges (the rulers of the Serene Republic) and without being "royal" was a mighty nice place loaded with statues and paintings. One of the most distinctive ornaments were rectangular, oval, or diamond-shaped slabs of the most beautiful rocks the Doge could get his hands on, which were embedded on the walls as if they were paintings (clear sign that the Doge was a rock collector and would have had a happy life as a geologist). The Casa d'Oro was a rich palazzo built along the Gran Canal, and the owner must have had a similar rock collecting hobby because the floor of the ground floor is a fabulous mosaic of the rarest rocks. This floor is famous because it gets inundated during acqua alta and light reflections on the thin layer of water create an incredible display (I saw it in a video at the museum).
That reminds me, the Venetian structures along the canals do not have a lot of wiggle room to accommodate a storm surge plus a high spring tide, so for the time being Venice has built an impressive set of "gates" on the entrance of the laguna that are lifted when there is a risk of acqua alta.
Under a steady rain I walked along Riva degli Schiavoni to the Naval History Museum. I was hoping for a nicely laid exposition of the maritime power of Venice but was disappointed. The museum has wonderful examples of cannons and other weapons, and very cool models of all sorts of galley ships, war ships, and cruise ships, but the whole collection does not tell a coherent story.
Having had enough of museums for the time being, I jumped on a vaporetto and headed for Lido, one of the three long barrier islands that partially block the mouth of the laguna. I imagined it would be something like Murano, and almost died of fright (literally and figuratively) when a big bus rumbled past the disembarkation dock. There are cars here! Not only that, but there are wide boulevards imported directly from Paris! turns out that the Lido of Venezia is a top European tourist destination, where people come to enjoy the sun (not today), the sandy beach, and the good life in swanky hotels and B&Bs that one finds all over the place.
Back in the vaporetto, I headed for the Galleria de la Academia, one of the well-known museums of Europe. Juan should be proud of me as I walked through one hall after another, loaded with the masterpieces of Venetian artists. I have to say, however, that there was a very limited number of themes, and all of them were religious in nature. Once you have seen the Madonna and Child represented multiple times, you start being a bit jaded and put more attention into the expressions of the main characters. In some representations everyone is so serious (it reminds me of Irvan, who doesn't like smiling when taking selfies), or the baby is too fat, or Mom has a squinty eye, or ... but I should stop this heretic musings.
By then night had fallen (at about 5 pm), so I treated myself to a walk across the Rialto Bridge and its glittering shops, the charming restaurants along the riva of the Gran Canal, and some of the bigger calles where tourists like to linger. Listening to the babel of languages around me I have come to the very non-statistical conclusion that most of the groups still walking under the night drizzle are Spaniards, who are probably just warming up for a night out in the town!
I think that is it for this particular trip. Tomorrow Thursday I will take the train to Milan, spend the night at an airport hotel, and at 6:30 am Friday morning will head back to California. All good things must come to an end, sigh.
Finis
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