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.