Our Last Day in Venice

It's not raining! YAY!!! Even though we had a wonderful time yesterday, we slogged around in our ponchos with our jeans and jackets thoroughly soaked, looking like drowned rats. It is FANTASTIC to see sun this morning.

Our mission today: see a Palladio villa. There is one in Malcontenta, not far from Venice, so we headed for that one. We took a boat to the mainland, and a bus to the little town, which is totally surrounded by industrial waste parks. We got off the bus and hiked to the villa. It was out of site until we came around a corner, and then THERE IT WAS! Tucked behind some trees - one of the most famous architectural structures in the world, by our favorite architect. My heart started to pound, and David broke into a run.

We ran to the facade, but there was a moat there, so we walked the length of the property to the side, but the moat was there too. We turned around and headed the other way, and found the access road, and galloped towards the gate.

To our disappointment, the gate was locked, and the building was closed to visitors until May, so we were kept at a tantalizing distance from this building we so much wanted to see. We took photos from every which way through the gate and on the road, and figured we were glad to have seen it anyways.


Taking the bus back to Venice was an adventure too. We had checked the bus schedule, and planned to take the 5 o'clock bus back to Venice. But we got back to the bus stop only to find that the bus we expected to take was not running on Saturdays. EEK! It was 5 p.m., and the next bus wasn't scheduled until 10. We were contemplating our options when a cute little old Italian man came and sat in the bus shelter next to us. I summoned all my Italian, and asked him if there was another bus to Venice before the 10 o'clock. He explained no, but we could take the bus to the town of Mestre, where he was going, and transfer to another bus to Venice. AND he said he would make sure we got on the right buses. What a nice man. I made clumsy conversation with him in Italian. He said he spoke two words of English: Tony Blair. I thought that was hysterical.

The bus to Mestre came, and he herded us on board and sat behind us. I continued talking to him in Italian, as best I could, and he was such a sweet man, asking me all about our trip, and our homes. When we got to Mestre, he directed us off the bus and told us where to go to get the connection to Venice, and what bus number it was. It's been great to be able to practice my Italian, and when I converse with the natives - even in really bad Italian - they are very sweet and friendly and helpful.

Since it was our last night in Venice, we decided to really splurge on something special. I had read that there was a classical concert in the Venice concert hall, called "La Fenice," which means the Phoenix. David being a classical musician and all, it seemed really fitting. The place was magnificent, and all of Venetian society came out in their finery to the theater. We were in jeans and sweatshirts.

The first two musical pieces were "modern," which to me meant a bunch of unmelodious, unpleasant noise.... David disagreed. But the last piece was a soothing Brahms piece, which I enjoyed very much; David, not so much. But they could have been banging on pot lids for all I cared, since the hall was sooooo magnificent.

This theater has burned down and been rebuilt twice in it's 250-year history (thus its name - the Phoenix), the last time being in 1996 from arson. We noticed that the place was lousy with dozens of Venice firemen in full turn-out gear, very visibly standing around everywhere - inside and outside of the building.

To round out a completely perfect day, we did something that had been recommended to me by Shannon Essa, who wrote the book "Chow! Venice," and with whom I had been conversing through email since I bought her book.

Here's what Shannon wrote:
"Usher in one new day in Piazza San Marco. At midnight, the Marangona – the giant bell in the Campanile – will ring, stunning everyone still left in the Piazza into silence. It’s a sound that you’ll remember forever."

We went and sat in St. Mark's Square, and snuggled up and waited for the midnight bells to chime. There was a full moon coming up in the dark night sky right behind the campanile, and with Venice's unnatural quiet due to the complete lack of cars, it was very dreamlike. First, soft bells started ringing on our right, in the clock tower; and minutes later, huge, deep loud chimes - the Marangona - from the campanile on the left. It was absolutely enchanted. We felt suspended in ethereal ecstasy until the bells stopped, and then walked slowly, silently back to the hotel.

No one could ever ask for a better day than this.

Venice in the Rain

We had a funny thing happen last night.... Our room is on the second floor, and has huge floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall that open onto a square area like a roof. Other rooms open off the other three sides of the square, and there is an access door from one of the corners, so it can be a fairly public place. When we were in the room and awake, we left the windows open and got a lovely cool breeze. But we closed them for security reasons when we went to bed, and during the night it got extremely warm in the room. Last night, before we turned in, I asked the man at the front desk if there was a way to turn on the AC, because our room had been really hot the night before. He looked at me like I was from another planet. "Open the windows!" he shouted in disbelief. David and I looked at him with saucer eyes, and I stammered something about wondering if it was safe to leave them open all night, and he exclaimed, "OF COURSE!" We couldn't run up the stairs fast enough, and collapsed into the room in hysterical laughter. He's going to think Americans are really, really stupid.

* * * * *

We did it again this morning... No wake up call, NO WAKE UP. The maid knocked on our door and said it was our last chance to have our room cleaned. We thought that was rude, since we thought it was about 8 a.m. But it was 1 p.m.... The sleepy twins strike again.

Despite our late start, we made the most of a very rainy day in Venice.

Since we had missed breakfast at our hotel, we stopped at a cute little cafe near our hotel and had cappucino and tramezzini - little sandwiches. David had tuna and egg, and tuna and tomato, he said they were very salty ('in a different way, but good' - whatever that means). I had prosciuto and gorgonzola. Yum.

David had honed in on a bookstore near the Piazza San Marco, so we headed over there first. On the way, we passed a McDonald's (sacrilege!) But DW was still hungry, so he stopped and ordered a 'Big Tasty.' Oh ya, it was $6. And it wasn't that good. AND the $3 small coke was flat. I think the Gods of Venice were giving him a message - what the heck are you doing eating at McDonald's???

After that little 'snack-cident,' we headed on to the bookstore. David was in there for a LONGGGGGGGG time.

(David's comment: It would behoove one to know at least one other language than one's one, because I found books on architecture and art in Italian that I had never been aware of because they are not printed in English. I entered the "architectura" section, and I was overcome at the selection. Annie kept coming back to see if I was ready to go. She was nice about it, though.)

While waiting for David, I went in all the stores in a two-block area; I bought some jewelry. I had a sandwich and a cappuchino. I went in to check on him - he was still browsing.

I found the Basilica of Venice and spent some time in there (praying that David would come out of the bookstore. I lit a candle.)

I patted a wet doggie who was keeping company with his person, an artist, in the plaza.

I looked in all the restaurant windows at the interesting fish.


I watched a very cute little boy play with his father.

Still, no David.

Finally, I decided to go find him and suggest that since it was 3:30, and the bookstore was open til 8 but the churches closed at 5 or 6, that perhaps we should go see something and come back to the store. But David was just coming out as I was going back in. He did buy me a really nice book on labyrinths for my birthday, and a book on the Finnish architect Alvar Aalto for himself. He's a sweet boy.

And by the way, he's really coming along with his Italian - he says he uses sight, sound, and context to figure it out.

Off we went to find a vaparetto (canal crossing boat) because we wanted to go to a neighboring island to see Palladio's church, Il Redentore. Mind you, it was raining 'gatti e cani' (cats and dogs), and the canal was a bit rough. The boat was crowded and we had to stand up - we couldn't figure out how the Venetians keep from falling down - even while holding their little dogs - since we were like a couple of drunken sailors.

The church was beautiful. David says it was 'Palladial.' Can't argue there. Planned by Palladio, this church was built between 1570 and 1580. In 1576, a deadly plague spread among the population of Venice. The doge then dedicated this church to the Redeemer, in return for mercy on his people. A statue of 'Faith' rising above the façade can only be seen from the canals.

Inside, it was stark clean white, so unlike the elaborate decoration in St. Mark's or St. Peter's, it was startling. But incredibly calming and beautiful.

We thought we'd head toward the place I most wanted to see - the Frari. We took the boat back across, and kind of wandered a bit to find it, but finally did, at about 6:00, and I was sure it would be closed. But NO, the doors were open; again, God looking out for us.

The church was built by the Franciscan Friars in the 1300s - hence the Frari - and it was incredible in there. Titian was buried there, and his monument was, well, monumental.

David remarked, 'Titian's grave is separated from the rest of the church by a wrought iron par-Titian.' That boy is a laugh a minute.

There was a Titian painting, the Assumption of Mary, over the main altar that was breathtaking. It was painted in 1516 and is the piece that made Titian's reputation in Venice.


There is also a statue of John the Baptist by Donatello, carved in 1438, that I found really beautiful.

In the sacristy, there is a triptych by Bellini painted in 1488, and the light was exquisite. And the artist has my favorite drink named after him!!!!


The magnificent choir stalls were built in the 1400s.


I had not seen this place in earlier visits to Venice - so I was very thankful to see it now. It was truly a magnificent, sacred place.

We decided to head in the direction of our hotel and look for a place to eat dinner. We found a cute little place right next to a canal - it only had about 9 tables. David ordered his 'usual,' spaghetti pomodoro, and a steak. (He says it was "beddy, beddy goooooood." So much for getting better with his Italian....) I ordered gnocci with 4 cheeses, and it was really good. I didn't want an entree because the pasta was so good, so I defied Italian convention and ordered another dish of pasta - this one handmade papardelle with mushrooms. Yum.

We walked back via the Rialto Bridge, and met a family from New York's upper west side at a music store (David and the other man - both of whom were musicians - had a good talk about music.)

At the top of the bridge, a man was playing Hungarian renaissance folk tunes on the lute - right up our alley. We listened for a while - it was haunting on the dark bridge in the rain. David bought two CDs from the guy.

Home to the hotel after a few wrong turns in the little alleys. Tired, and happy. Again.

A fantasy birthday.

Wow - we are in VENICE - my favorite place in the world! And it's my birthday!!! YAY!!! God must be Italian, because I am in paradise.

It was a beautiful 3-hour train ride in this morning thorough the beautiful Tuscan countryside. But then you enter into another world.... from the train station, you take a boat to St. Mark's Square (David said 'What, no cabs?' No CARS at all, honey....), then another ''local'' boat to the stop nearest your hotel. For us that was the Rialto Bridge.

Now, our hotel is only maybe 8 blocks from the bridge, but in Venice, there is no such thing as a direct route. There are tiny little alleys and streets that are a few meters long, and very few are marked, and the Venetians don't know any of them but those in their own 'hood. So we kept going, dragging the luggage over the ancient cobblestones and arched bridges, and kept asking every local we met. Most said they just didn't know, a few pointed vaguely in one direction or another, and finally a couple of guys really knew. It was a relief to see the hotel sign.

Our hotel is in the actual house that the artist Canaletto lived in. Canaletto is the artist who is most noted for his detailed landscapes of Venice of the 18th century, like this, one of his most famous:


The first thing we did was go into St. Mark's Basilica, which is unbelievable; my favorite church of any kind in any country, and I've seen more than my share in the past few months! It's all gold mosaic and incredible inlaid marble floors - absolutely breathtaking.

For its opulent design, gilded Byzantine mosaics, and its status as a symbol of Venetian wealth and power from the 11th century on, the building was known by the nickname Chiesa d'Oro ("church of gold"). Over the high altar is a baldacchino on columns decorated with 11th-century reliefs; the altarpiece is the famous Golden Pall, Byzantine metal-work of the year 1105.


The ceiling is a mosaic of bronze, gold, and jewels.



After leaving the church, we walked around the entire perimeter of St. Mark's square, looking in all the expensive jewelry and glass shops.

I was particularly attracted to this store window, because of the color of the glass. David observed that it is exactly the color I have painted my living room, and now he understands my inspiration. Boy howdy, would I love to have that chandelier in my house!!!

We had a date to meet these two ladies we had met on the train to Florence - Helen and Carolyn - at 6 in the square to go on a gondola ride. I told them on the train that gondolas hold up to 6 people for the same price, so it would be only half as ridiculously expensive if we went together -- only $68 a couple for a half-hour instead of $135. They said they weren't planning to do it themselves, but they jumped at the chance to do it with us. We really like them - they are from Seattle - a little older than we are, and just very sweet. So we set off in search of a gondola in one of the small more romantic canals. David located this boat, and then its gondolier, and we were off.

It was a first gondola ride for David and the 2 ladies, and they were suitably wowed. We glided silently down those narrow, jade colored canals, passing these incredible ancient palaces on both sides, going under bridges so low the gondolier had to duck. And we timed it so the sun was just going down and the sky was all pink and violet. Unforgettable.



After that, we went to the famous Harry's Bar, where Ernest Hemingway hung out. They invented the famous cocktail, the Bellini (proseco wine and peach nectar) and I've always wanted to have one there, even though they are $20. So David took me for a birthday drink. It was all waiters in white tuxes and very rich patrons - we kind of stuck out with our sneakers and sweatshirts. And the maitre d' told us we'd have to sit at the bar if we weren't going to eat. While we were sipping our three-ounce cocktails, we're pretty sure we saw I.M. Pei, the famous architect, come into the joint and be ushered to a private table. For a couple of architecture buffs, THAT was pretty cool.

Two fantastic Bellinis later, and 30 euros poorer, we strolled out, happy to have done it just to say we had.
We drifted back to our hotel, and stopped at a little restaurant up the street, and sat outside. We were the only diners, and it was fun to watch people walk by, even though there weren't many people at this point.

All in all, I'd say that was one mighty fine birthday.
They don't get much better.

Firenza - Tuscany at its finest.

We arrived in Florence on Monday - after an uneventful (but for me, stressful - Thanks to David for calming me down.... ) train trip. I'm not real comfortable with train travel anyway -- due to a childhood incident on the subway in NYC -- so I was tense to begin with. There are about a zillion tracks in the Rome train station, and I wasn't sure how to find our train, or whether our ticket was okay, or where our seats were, or a million other things to worry about. We actually did sit in the wrong car, and were abruptly asked to move when the seats' real owners arrived. So I was really happy when we were seated in our correct seats, and the train pulled out of the station.

We were sitting across from two really nice women from Seattle, Helen and Carolyn, who also booked through Air France, so we had a nice talk about our trip. And two hours later, we all arrived in Florence without incident.

Our hotel - the Argentina - is nice, nicer than the one in Rome, actually. And it is a block from the Arno River (which David has nicknamed the Open Sewer; what a cynic. It's really okay. It's a dark color, but doesn't smell or anything.) The first afternoon we were here, we walked along the river, and down to the famous Duomo, which is quite extraordinary.

Then I think our jet lag caught up to us. We took a 2-hour nap, had dinner, and then came back and went to bed, and didn't wake up until 1 p.m. Tuesday!!! We felt better though.

After the big sleep, we went to the Ponte Vechhio (Old Bridge), where David enjoyed a $13 (!) gelatto.

We started to walk to the Piazza Signoria, and along the way, we stopped at a bookstore and spent 2 hours looking at maps and posters and handmade paper, and David bought an exquisite huge hand-painted map of the world circa 1600 for his son Austin, who is graduating from college in May with a history major. After about an hour, I sat in a chair and watched David studying the maps - he was obviously blissed out - and it made me so happy to see him having so much fun. The owner came over to me with tears in her eyes, and told me she was watching me watch him with such love and happiness in my eyes at seeing his delight that it touched her heart. He told me that it was his happiest moments of the whole trip, in that store.

We spent so much money there the owner is our new best friend.

On the way back to the hotel, David got an Italian haircut - very chic. The barber was cute as a button, but boy, did he need a haircut.


Wednesday
Today, we had a wake up call to prevent a repeat of yesterday's marathon snooze-a-palooza.

We headed by bus up to Fiesole, a really sweet little town on a hill looking down over Florence. We toured the 1,000-year-old church, and walked a VERY STEEP path to the top of the hill, where there is an old convent.

From the top, we had an amazing view of the Tuscan countryside. It was kind of foggy, so we could just make out the Duomo in the distance.

At the top of the hill, we stopped for lunch at a wonderful little outdoor cafe, where we were the only ones there. We sat under the loggia, which was draped with ivy and surrounded by flower boxes filled with colorful blooms.

And we had the best darn meal of the entire trip. We ordered white wine, and David ordered carpaccio as an appetizer, and I ordered fresh asparagus in puff pastry with a mild cheese sauce. David says it was soooo good that he will never eat carpaccio in the U.S. again.

Then we had the second course - for David, a homemade pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and I had the risotto with porcini mushrooms and cheese. OH MY GOD - it was heaven on a plate. David's pasta was a bit too spicy for him though.

Next came the veal with wild mushroom sauce, and grilled vegetables. Again, amazing. Follow that up with a dish of fresh strawberries, and two cappuccinos, in an unbelievable beautiful hill top location in Tuscany, and you have perhaps a perfect experience. It was really extraordinary.

The price for all this gustatory fabulosity.... a mere 81 Euros, or about $105. In my opinion, worth every euro. I've had a few meals in the states that cost that much, and weren't anywhere near as good, or in as fantastic a location. A definite high point of the trip, so far.

Lots of famous dead guys.
This afternoon, we went to Santa Croce church, where there are graves of Dante, Michelangelo, Rossini, Machiavelli, Galileo - a virtual constellation of famous Italian dead guys. You could tell they are important, because their monuments were HUGE elaborate marble and gold things. Wow. This is Michelangelo's:


And this is Galileo's:


The church was built from 1294 - 1442. It's like a museum of famous artists and architects. There is a Chapel of the Novitiate decorated by della Robbia, and a Cloister of the Dead, designed by Brunelleschi, who built the dome of the Duomo.

I just love the churches in Italy; can you tell?



Tomorrow morning we are taking the train to Venice - my favorite city!!!
And it's my birthday - doesn't get any better than that.

Will try to write more when we get to the magical city on little islands.

The Pope's Here? duh.

Rome -$1,000. Bus to the Vatican on Sunday morning - 5€. A Chance Encounter with Il Papa - priceless.

We had read that the Pope makes public addresses on Wednesdays, so we figured we wouldn't get to see him. So here it is, Sunday morning, and on our 'to do' list was the Vatican and the Colosseum. We figured we'd take the bus to St. Peter's, see the church and the Sistine Chapel, and then go to the Colosseum, which is open later. We'd get there when we got there, we figured.

So we had a leisurely breakfast, took the bus to the Vatican stop, got off and started poking along the street towards St. Peter's, looking in the stores, chatting, dawdling. We came out of one store, and we heard someone talking over a loudspeaker in Italian - 'probably the Pope, ha ha!' we joked and poked ahead.

Then we came into view of St. Peter's Square, and it was jammed with thousands of people all looking up to the right.

Sure enough, there was the Pope at his window with the carpet hanging out. We just looked at each other, dumbstruck, with the emphasis on dumb. Here these multi-thousands of people rushed over to St. Peter's and probably waited hours to see him, and we just strolled in.

We were excited to hear Benedict speak in 6 different languages - all fluently, it sounded like. (Even though I don't like this Pope, and David thinks of JP2 as "the REAL Pope," he is the Pope, for cripes sakes. And we WERE at his house.) It really was pretty exciting. Thousands of people cheered every time he started speaking in a different language - their language.

That was the good part. The bad part was that all those thousands of people wanted to get into the church just like we did, and the line was unbelievable. We figured it would be hours before we got in, and then it would be jammed. So we decided to take the bus back around and see the Colosseum. It was a very good idea. There wasn't that big a crowd there (probably because everyone was at the Vatican!!!) so we only waited in line about 10 minutes - much less than we had been warned.

That is one heck of a big stack of old stones. Incredible, really. We wandered around for a long time trying to take it all in.

Mid-afternoon we figured we should head back to the Vatican, since it was David's last chance to see it. It's all the way across the city, so we took a bus and a subway to get there, that took almost an hour. On the subway train, two men got on right beside us, one with a clarinet and one with an accordion. They played a spirited song while the train rolled - and I thought it was very charming and gave them some coins. David considers accordion music to be the work of the devil. HE wanted to pay them to stop playing.

We waited in line about 20 minutes to get into St. Peter's - also not bad.


There's nothing like walking into a place like that - you just look up with your jaw hanging down. David's reaction: 'If this doesn't make you convert, nothing will.'

First we looked at Michelangelo's Pieta, right there in the first chapel. Magnificent. Then we were walking towards that incredible Baldaccino, when all these men in black suits started herding everyone to the sides - we happened to be right in the front line. Nobody knew what was happening -- the tiny little nun in front of me asked, was the Pope coming??? Very strict crowd control, very hush hush.

Then a line of altar boys started filing in from the side of the church; dozens of them, followed by dozens of priests, and cardinals, and then a guy in a gold robe and big hat.

David is sure it wasn't the Pope, and it probably was the head bishop of Rome or something. It was still pretty darned exciting. They all filed in, chanted around the Baldaccino, filed the length of the church down one side and up the other, right in front of us. So here we stumbled into another unusual and exciting thing in St. Peter's. What it it they say, God takes care of the imbeciles?

The one bad thing: the Sistene Chapel was already closed for the day, so David didn't get to see it. Next trip to Rome...

When we left, we realized we hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. We stopped in a little cafe down the street from St. Pete's - David called it the Pope's Bar and Grill. "Self-service" - reasonably priced, right? A small plate of fish, carrots, ravioli, and two cappuccinos -- €29 -- $40. Ouch.

From there, we took the bus back to Castel St. Angelo and walked over to the Piazza Navona, through all these tiny little stone streets. It was dusk, and whenever we passed a church, we stopped in. Even the small obscure ones were magnificent.

In the square, we stopped at one of the cafes for coffee and desert. The maitre d' charmed us right into the place, and promised us it would be paradise. It WAS wonderful, sitting there as the sun went down, watching the sights and sounds in this famous piazza. David said, "EVERYONE from the United States should come to Italy!!" I couldn't agree more.

One young man was sitting on a bench across from us, playing his guitar; it was beautiful. David said it sounded just like the way his dad plays. We had a wonderful time, and tried not to cringe too much when the bill for 2 coffees, a dish of strawberries, a slice of almond cake, and one glass of the house wine was €42 -- about $58. We definitely paid for the atmosphere today. But we decided we were worth it.

We took a cab back to the hotel, because we were weary from so much walking - we had a really nice cab driver who played along with my clumsy halting attempts at Italian.

Tomorrow morning we take the train to Florence.