The first day we arrived was a bit exhausting. I realized that I had lost my passport as soon as we boarded the Vaporetto, or the bus-boat as I kept calling it. I thought I could either be upset, or I could enjoy the realization of a dream I ‘ve had for many years. I decided on enjoying Venice and worrying about the Passport on Monday. As I ride the fast train back to Siena I am sure that I made a good decision.
Our hotel was in the Rialto Market area and we were surrounded by tourist traps. Despite all of the craziness of the street vendors, flashy restaurant hosts attempting to lure you in to their eatery, gaudy souvenirs and obnoxious tourists, it was still Venice and it was beautiful. Some of the great things about Venice are its aimless streets and hidden alleyways that can make you feel completely swallowed up by crowds or allow you to feel as if you are in your own little world of fresh laundry hanging in the sun and little Venetian enjoying the wonders of childhood. The first day in Venice was all about the craziness. The hidden streets that I decided to brave in order to escape the tourists always spit me back out into the crowd. Dead end after dead end I never escaped the touristy areas of Rialto and San Marco. As the sun set and all of the beautiful city lights started to turn on I realized why people said I couldn’t enjoy it on my own. Everywhere I turned there were people in love. They were everywhere: holding hands, passionately kissing, enjoying a moonlit gondola ride, or sharing a plate of spaghetti. It just didn’t end and it made me miss Steve so much. But after walking for over 10 hours I was too tired to dwell on it and I went to bed excited for another day in the Venetian sun.
I can’t say whether the second or last day was my favorite. On day two I was able to see the Venice people talk about when they say the 85% of the city is not touristy. I had purchased an unlimited three-day pass for the Vaporetto so when I found out that my passport had not been turned into the Venice police I decided to go for a ride down the Grand Canal. I originally planned to take it all the way to the end of the line but when they called out the Giardini stop something told me to get off. This was probably the best decision I made this weekend. The walkways were not jam-packed with visitors and as I turned a corner I came across a tree-lined street that was so completely unexpected it took my breath away. The street was like an arts district with different kinds of art studios, museums, and gardens. The second good sign was when I saw locals walking around eating gelato. We’d had some pretty disgusting (yes, ACTUALLY disgusting) gelato the night before and we were traumatized about gelato outside of Siena. But I love to follow the locals so I went with my instinct and it was another one of those moments that made me want to cry. I ordered pistachio and lemon (my favorite, but unconventional combo) and I’d argue that it is the best gelato in Venice. I sat on a chair just around the corner from the gelateria on a street abundant with hanging laundry and I was in a heaven.
Laundry hanging on a clothesline (especially in Italy) is one of my guilty pleasures. I find it so romantic that there are people in the world that take the time, whether by choice or not, to wash their laundry and wait a day for it to dry.
After two hours of wandering through the quite streets of the Arsenal neighborhood I came across one of the biggest art shows in Italy this summer. It was called ILLUMINAZIONI. I didn’t actually go in because I was running short on time but I was able to check out some of the free exhibits that added to the glory of my day.
While I waited for my friends to call me for dinner I sat on a bench in a tiny square where an old lady was singing something Italian with her friend. I wanted to listen but I didn’t want them to think I was eavesdropping so I sat a bit away from them. The old man that was sitting on the same bench greeted me with a “Ciao” and we started talking. He was Venetian, 85, and a widower. He met his wife in Paris while she was working for Christian Dior and they moved back to Venice to get married. Her name was Liliana Sofia and his name was Bepi. He told me bits and pieces of his life and continued to get surprised when I told him I was married. He kept forgetting and after I reminded him he would tell me how he loved my eyes. Despite going in circles with our with my broken Italian and his old-man northern-Italian speech we managed to have a wonderful conversation during that hour on that bench beneath the trees. I was so happy I was alone because I know if I hadn’t he would not have talked to me and I wouldn’t have had the time of my life.
Our group met near the Arsenal neighborhood and I showed them around the little streets and tiny canals. I suggested that Gaby as a local merchant if he could point us in a direction of a good restaurant. She did and we went to Paolo’s I have no idea where we were but I did what I feel you are supposed to do when you are in Italy. I had the Primo Piatto Specialita. Spaghetti with tomato sauce, clams, shrimp, and mussels. It was probably the best spaghetti I’ve ever had. All we could do was sit, eat, drink wine and soak it all in. I had brought my friends to heaven and we were all in love with this new city.
After dinner we walked along the Grand Canal towards San Marco and enjoyed the last minutes of sunset. I had mentioned the romance earlier and this is where it definitely came in. These old cities transform at night. The lights go on, the bands start playing in the squares and everybody seems to be in love. And if it wasn’t for the wonderful friends that came with me I would have felt a little lonely. Maybe it wasn’t the exact company I would have wished for, but they were a great second best. We spend the rest of the evening in San Marco’s Square listening to a variety of live jazz bands, drinking wine and taking pictures.
After a seedy boat ride along the not so pretty side of Venice we made it back to the Rialto Bridge and walked back to our hotel to shower and knock out.
San Marco
Grand Canal
The last day was just like the second, only shorter. I did get to show Gaby and Alison around the Giardini area and took them to ‘my’ gelateria. After some more shopping and exploring we were ready to go home to Siena.
In the end Venice was everything I expected and was nothing like the city people warned me about. I loved it so much and I cant wait to go back.
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