Ciao belli, I am back with yet more words to ruin your brains with. I will warn that right now I am extremely tired as I am typing this up, so it may not be quite as descriptive, but hopefully you will still sense the enthusiasm I have for this damned place.
I have just realised I have been in Italy for exactly one month. I rock.
Also, kudos to those of you sending emails, proper job. Made me laugh.
Right, back to this gosh darned travelling malarkey…
So, I’ve done Verona and Lake Garda, Portogruaro, Strada del Vino, Slovenia Caves & Castle, which means that the only ones I have left to write up are the Islands of the Lagoon, Treviso and, of course, Venice. As far as I remember we did Treviso on the Saturday, Venice on the Sunday and the Islands of the Lagoon on Monday, however because I’m not 100% on that I’m just going to write up my recollections of the trips in a completely different order. I can do that because not only am I the author, I’m also the editor.
Oh, and yet another random insert here, there is one thing that is bad about this place, that due to its proximity to the Venetian Lagoon there are billions of mosquitoes around and I am clearly the tastiest thing to ever visit as I am like a relief map of the sodding Himalayas. Not good!
Ok, time to describe Treviso now, another Venetian city that I couldn’t help but fall in love with. Perhaps I’m just a fickle person, but each place I went to felt impelled to love and Treviso was certainly no exception. I had quite a lot of background knowledge on the place because I had researched it for ‘homework’ during training, it has a great history of which I’m not going to go into really. All I will say is that the arrogant person that I am that I couldn’t help but feel incredibly smug when I knew more than the guide. These official city-guides are awfully cheeky though - this one got paid €96 for one hour and was totally awful. I actually wouldn’t mind doing guiding - it might be a good way to stay living abroad in the future…
Back to Treviso - it is home to the United Colours of Benneton (yawn), and has many big shops (yawn again), but it is also built around four main rivers and is in some ways a mini-Venice with canals fanning out too. I think, however, to compare it is a little unfair to the place because it is unique in its own way. The architecture here is so novel that I am constantly impressed by it and love the fact that all of the ancient buildings are lived in as normal homes that they can be normal.
For me the best part of Treviso had to be the Duomo di San Pedro, or St’Peter’s Cathedral. I thought, with my slightly sad sense of humour, that it was absolutely hilarious - for if you approach from behind the cathedral has a round dome and the architecture is absolutely incredible, typical renaissance styling, intricate and ornate detail. If you go to the front of the Duomo, however, you will find that it has neo-classical arches and pillars, pretty much in concrete, or at the most white marble. Now why may this be, I hear you ask. Well…Napoleon conquered the Veneto in 1797 and with Treviso decided, being the froggy frog that he was, that he didn’t like the Venetian architecture and it needed to be updated to his liking, which at that time, as I mentioned, was neo-classical Romanesque arches and pillars. This was probably at the time he was posing for that camp statue in Corsica... Anyhow, the thing was that all these wars he kept on having were rather costly and quite simply he ran out of money so only the front was finished. So, the moral of the story? Well, there are a couple, firstly don’t invade Russia and catch syphilis, secondly, don’t use French builders…
Treviso had a market, which is why we are offering the trip to our guests, it was quite markety, I actually preferred it over Portogruaro as it was more colourful and I have the tastes of a child…ooh, shiny.
I must confess that I was also particularly flirtatious, yet again, but this time not with the lovely Janica (and she has a boyfriend), but with one of the female reps from another tour company coming with us. To be fair - it clearly isn’t my fault - I’m surrounded by these damn women and have to put up with nothing but talk of shoes and nails, bags and all kinds of other tripe, so amusement must be gained where possible and sadly for me that often comes from acting like a damn fool. For Rickers, I think the phrase I’m looking for would be “Heroically foxed and full of good intentions…” Anyhow, it was all harmless flirting which is the fun kind, made all the more amusing by the bitchy comments from the girls that I work with…
Treviso finished and we were meant to go to the Islands of the Lagoon that afternoon however there had been a monumental cock-up. The reason for it is rather complicated, I will do my best to explain, I can only apologise that my entries are so long-winded, but I won’t lie, this is a vanity project and it’s partly for me.
Right, traditionally when people talk about the ‘Islands of the Lagoon’ they mean three in particular, that is Murano, Burano and Torcello. Murano is famous for it’s hand-blown glass which is ornate (and incredibly expensive), Burano is famous for it’s hand-made lace and colourful houses whilst Torcello is best known for having the oldest building in the Venetian Lagoon and Atilla’s Chair. This year, we’ve knocked Murano (glass) off the programme, because it has become somewhat of a ghost island - China now produces fake Murano glass by machine and sells a lot of it worldwide, whilst nowhere near as many people train as glass-blowers, as a result the island is all but a wasteland with many factories closed down and the remaining trips being little more than a 5 minute demonstration followed by half an hour of people trying to sell you the glass. As a result Thomson’s decided to get rid of this island and in a fantastic coup got San Francesco del Deserto, of which I will describe more in a minute.
Firstly though, I will start with Burano. It is beautiful, the houses are all painted different colours, the original Italian myth being because centuries ago when the fishermen would come home they would know which house was theirs, although God alone knows how much they had to drink to forget that. It is also covered in lace factories and the girls on the trip found this awfully exciting whilst I had to wake myself from the coma. A big plus point for all the islands is that it feels flipping cool arriving by boat, especially with the aviators on casually saying ‘Ciao’ to bella bambini. Not that I did that mind, I was too busy gawping at the brilliant central piazza and its leaning church and the amazing view that was available across the lagoon. As I’ve said before, it almost gives me some kind of faith in life and the world that places this beautiful can exist.
The next island, Torcello, is fabulous, with practically no-one living there, but the formidable church of Maria D’Assumpta (I think that is right). It dates back to the 7th century and is pretty good to look at from the outside, terracotta coloured bricks, a huge steeple tower (although square rather than pointed as in England), however it is inside that is the most amazing. It is the one place that I have been in all this time abroad that has actually shut me up just by walking in, I don’t know whether it was the combination of religious respect or just the beauty alone, but my mouth couldn’t utter a single word. It was a similar feeling to when I went to the Vatican; I was humbled by the craftsmanship and the ability of man to create something like this. I also, not for the first time that day, had stirrings within me that almost made me feel slightly religious - perhaps it is because I do love visiting places of worship or maybe it’s just because there is such peace and tranquillity and they can be a haven against the rest of the world. Even for someone who talks as much as me, in fact, especially, it is nice to have a place of silence.
The front nave is devoted to the largest mosaic I have ever seen, I don’t know its size in football pitches (well-known to be the universal measurement for anything big, well, that or double-decker buses), but it was huge. It illustrated man’s descent into hell (not particularly uplifting) as well as the Virgin Mary with child and the disciples. I think part of this wonderment comes from knowing that I could never imagine, let along begin to make, something of this grandeur, ability or scale myself. What I mean by that is that I know that I have strengths, be it languages or music (to a certain level), but I have no ability to create art, or for faith, and yet this church was an incredible testament to both.
Outside of the church is a chair hewn from rock that has become smooth from being sat on for centuries - supposedly Atilla the Hun sat there, however this has since been disproved and it is more likely it was just the Bishop’s Chair, yet once again, as always in Italy, there is a miracle/legend behind it. It is said that if you sit on the chair you will meet your spouse within one year (not necessarily marry within it), or if you are married (and female) you will be pregnant within one year. Goodbye to singledom…!
After Torcello it leaves one place and that is San Francesco del Deserto, so named after St Francis of Assisi who set foot on the island in 1220. The miracle/legend here is that when he planted his staff into the ground upon landing it grew into a magnificent tree. I’m not quite sure how if he found it difficult to walk anywhere else afterwards or if he just made a new staff out of the tree…I don’t know. Anyhow this island is now inhabited by four Friars of the Franciscan order and they run the island, you cannot get there without an invite from them and it is a working monastery.
The first impressions of coming to the island are one of intrigue because all that pokes out above the tops of the cypress trees is part of a tower and other than that it is just possible to see beautifully maintained gardens/grounds. So, we pulled in, in our boat, to the entrance of a canal, hopped off and made our way to the entrance of the monastery. The day was incredibly hot and as a result there were thousands of midges around, however you can’t really swat them away as St Francis was the patron saint of animals and it is a tad offensive to go killing loads of them on the home-turf of his followers.
We were met by a friar in traditional brown robes, who showed us around the monastery/church/cloisters and whilst he only spoke Italian and we had our guide, Rosie, translating for us, it was incredibly informative and interesting. The grounds were incredible, there were wild guinea pigs (patron saint of animals, remember), who were very entertaining and made me giggle a bit (in a respectful fashion, of course). The building dates back to 1229, however it has been changed many times of the years, most dramatically when the Frenchy fella, Napoleon requisitioned the islands as a barracks for 50 years. The cheek!
Anyway, yet again it was a moving experience and one that I will not forget - this island of peace and beauty only 15 minutes away from Venice with people with nothing more to live their lives by than faith (and tourist money). I will have to go back there, it is absolutely magnificent.
Right, I was going to write about Venice, but I simply don’t have the strength right now. Many thanks again to those of you good enough to email in or comment, love you all very much, even the smelly ones. More will come soon…
Up yer bum,
Monty xxx
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