Four Island Lagoon Trip, Chinese Gnocchi and Fat Cats

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Yesterday's rain came a day late, which is today. So when we left our accommodation on Campo San Margherita at 7am, it was a lovely combination of dark, cold and wet. I'd gotten us up just after 6am in another futile attempt to get moody and misty photographs over the canals in the early morning light. But by the time we finished getting lost, the wind was up, the rain was down and we were not feel inspired to be creative at all. However we did manage to get rainy shots of a fairly empty Piazza San Marco, which is great because most people get really boring photos with lots of sunshine and blue skies. Or so I keep telling myself.

We walked up to Fondamente Nuove via Calle Varisco to get photos of it (the narrowest alley in Venice) in daylight. Situated on the waters edge, Fondamente Nuove was extremely windy and people were hiding in a cafe just to get warm. Glyn and I bought day travel passes for the Vaporetto (that's water buses to you) at €20 each.

The lagoon that Venice is situated in is home to many islands that were once heavily populated. If you read Glyn's blog, he will tell you there's around 124 islands in total, but neither of us have any idea where he got that number from and it's late, so we can't be arsed to check it. If you really care, Google is your friend. The Vaporetto took around 40 minutes to get to Burano which is one of the most further away islands. I only got shouted at by one Italian for leaving the door open on the boat - somehow I got it in my head that the door would close itself. Glyn sniggered at me.

Burano is known for lace making and multicoloured buildings, not just subtle pastels like you usually get, but totally hardcore primaries: shocking pink, lime green, glow-in-the-dark orange, sunflower yellow and sky blue to name but a few. There were also some dull colours including cow-shit green, turgid brown and pavement-pizza yellow. I bet the habitants of those latter homes are a laughing stock. The reason for the multi-coloured buildings dates from ye olden times so that fishermen coming home in the fog could find their homes easily; apparently it can get extremely foggy in the winter. As it was peeing it down, we practically had the place to ourselves and got some nice shots of the colourful buildings framed by a grey sky and reflected in the soaked pavements. The canals were quiet and the boats were covered.

We stopped in a cafe to get warm and have a hot drink. Glyn had some local food that he wasn't sure what it was but liked it. A black cat sauntered past in the rain and I shot outside to meet it. I managed to get some fuss from this soggy cat as it sheltered from the rain under some flood platforms stacked in the nearby square. Like all the cats I've seen in Venice, it was a pet with a collar and rather chubby, but Italian food is rather carb heavy so it's not their fault.

After photographing washing pegged out in the rain outside brightly painted homes, we decided to visit the Burano Museum just to get out of the rain. The museum movie quite possibly is one of the longest museum intro movies in the world and now Glyn and I are experts in the field of Burano lace making. It was quite feminist in places, (which for us was unexpected in a small and quaint island) as lace makers were traditionally female because they were not allowed to be academically educated and so the film portrayed women saying the reason they weren't allowed to be educated was because it would show up their dim brothers. The lace was pretty amazing but is a dying art as it's very time consuming and making it super expensive. Glyn spent too long staring at an extremely crap painting in the museum just for comedic effect and it took a lot of effort as I failed to notice for some time. I guess you had to be there....

The rain wasn't letting up despite the weather forecast insisting it had stopped. We walked down to Mazzarbo, another island connected with a footbridge; the highlights were a soggy vineyard and crumbling church that was boarded up. The only reason to visit this island was to add to our tally for the day. And to do a Pokemon raid at the church we couldn't enter.

Returning to Burano, we took the practically empty number 9 Vaporetto to Torcello. My guidebook claims that this island once had a population of 20,000 and I struggle to believe this as its tiny. If this is true, everyone must have known each other extremely intimately. The population is now around 60 and we saw but a fraction of that, plus four cats, two goats, three sheep and three rabbits. Plus some birds that I thought were white chickens but Glyn disagrees. The cats were a bit grubby but satisfied looking, all being somewhat rotund.

The Ponte del Diavolo (Devils Bridge) was the first place of interest which is a small very old bridge that has no railings. There were a few restaurants and a monastery that cost €5 to enter but we weren't that bothered and were content to wander about instead. Not that there was much wandering to do as it was one street - or canal. We stopped at the only cheap looking (but not that cheap) cafe with outdoor heaters and a shy cat. Glyn had an expensive seafood dish in an edible bowl. I had a disappointing tiramisu that took ages to arrive, I suspect because it was being defrosted. To be honest I have had far better in Huddersfield. I expected better from Italy.

The next Vaporetto took us back to Burano and we decided to wander around it again now that the rain had stopped and the sun was making a slight effort to light up the multi coloured buildings. It was a lot busier this time, filled with fair-weather tourists taking selfies. Glyn liked them a lot. Ahem....

Oh and there's a leaning tower in Burano. Glyn wants to know why Italians can't build vertical towers? Why do they end up lurching dangerously to one side? Naturally tourists were posing in a manner so that they appear to be holding up the tower in their photos. Glyn dissed this and then we took a photo of him doing the same. We're not in Rome, but it is the same country and we are tourists, so it's expected of us.

The boat to Murano was rather packed as it was full of tourists returning to Venice, so it was a stampede to get on and win a precious seat. Murano is known for its glass making and had we arrived earlier we may have seen it being made. As with all places around Venice, there are canals instead of roads and these were lined with glass vendors and restaurants. The glassware ranged from cheap tat to high end, ridiculously expensive works of art. Some were extremely huge, others most unusual and completely non-traditional: totally not what we were expecting. It was a nice place to wander around. We briefly stopped at a cafe so we could use the loo. I got a decent tiramisu and glass of wine whilst Glyn had the most ridiculously thick and strong hot chocolate on the planet. By this time it had gotten dark and we took the Vaporetto back to Venice, travelling through the main canals to Ferrovia in Cannaregio so that we could walk through Santa Croce and San Polo in the hope of seeing places we'd not seen before. As it was very dark, we didn't see much.

Our penultimate stop was an Italian Chinese restaurant where my food was very different to Chinese I get in the UK but Glyn's wasn't. I've never had Chinese gnocchi before, but I would love to again. The prosecco was also a decent price for Venice, so I was happy. I had to warn Glyn that the toilets were most unusual - a cross between western and squats; I wasn't sure what to do but it was very low with no seat, with no foot plates either. Glyn wondered how people with arthritis manage in countries where toilets like this originate. And so our romantic weekend in Venice continued.

The short walk back to our accommodation was extended due to it being Venice, so we had to go the wrong way for a while. The square was still a bit noisy with the bars open but the shops shut. Glyn spotted that the takeaway across the alley from the door of our accommodation sold Bellini - this is something my Mum told me to try although I suspect she expecting me to be sipping it from a glass at a fancy pavement cafe, not guzzling it from a bottle whilst in bed as I write this blog. It's nice though and a lot better than the cheap fries Glyn had from the same establishment.

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Photos

Burano
Venice

Fancy glass in Murano
Venice