Day 16: Last Hurrah in Venice

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Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Basilica at Last
Determined to see the basilica, I got up early and walked to San Marco’s square before the basilica’s open time. Not surprisingly, there was already a line formed. In true American fashion, I cut in line behind a large family. I would be their long lost cousin they didn’t know about. The line moved swiftly, pausing only when inspectors issued scarves made of the same paper as hospital gowns to women revealing too much leg or shoulder.

The fight was totally worth it. The entire ceiling and many of the walls were decorated with Eastern mosaics, glittering with gold. Using my handy (and free) Rick Steves audio tour, I roamed the church and its extra rooms for about an hour; the basilica website tells you a ten minute tour is average. A pathway through the church is roped off, so all they need to do is drive the cattle through.

The basilica is free to enter, but the extra areas, like the treasury, reliquie of Saint Mark and museum charge admission. I went into the reliquie and gazed upon an altar housing a jar that supposedly contained the remains of a real saint. This Mark was supposed to have written sections of the bible. The area also featured a gold alter piece which really demonstrated the craftsmanship of the Byzantine Empire. Gold plates were stamped and then painted with enamel, then decorated with pearls and gems.

I had to climb a seriously steep set of stairs to get to the museum. Where normal stairs are 6-9 inches in height, these steps were about 12 inches, giving my legs a killer workout. Upstairs, I leaned up against a balcony the overlooked the entire church. It was impressive. The gold mosaics glittered and the army of ants (aka tourists) marched in uniform below. There were some displays of old mosaics which had been removed centuries past and preserved; not thrilling. The museum also housed the original bronze horses that stood atop the balcony, now replaced by replicas. The horses portrayed a kind of energy that really brought them to life. I suppose that’s why the Venetians stole them from some Eastern country, and why Napoleon stole them from Venice, and why Venice stole them back again.

Visitors could actually step out onto the balcony overlooking San Marco square and walk around the corner to face the Doge’s Palace and the lagoon. Below, I watched lines of people snake through the square for entry into the basilica or clock tower and the musicians at the cafes warm up for the lunch crowd. It was cool to stand there, where Venice’s powerhouse politicians would address the crowds centuries ago. It occurred to me that I should make an announcement. Something like, “Would the owner of a red Honda please come to the customer service desk?” I don’t know If the joke would have been properly understood in the city with no cars.

Museo Storie Navale
My next stop was the Naval History Museum, just down the waterfront from the piazza. I took the lazy way and boarded a boat headed in that direction; it probably saved me two minutes. Getting off at the “Arsenelle” stop, I was amazed. There was hardly anyone to be seen. From the top of a bridge, I looked in the direction of San Marco’s square. The end of the souvenir stands another bridge away marked the boundary for the mass of tourists. Without all the clutter and people, I walked freely down the promenade. The neighborhood is primarily private property of the Italian Navy, so there isn’t much even for non-military locals in this area.

The naval museum offered the best value for admission anywhere in Venice, €1.55 for five floors of maritime artifacts. And it was completely uncrowded. I zipped through in an hour, but boat lovers would probably spend much more time looking through the collection. There were many pieces of ships from the 1600’s, and even more models of various ship designs from that era. Much like the Correr Museum, these pieces really showed off ancient Venice’s pride for its navy and rank in the Mediterranean. There were many pieces from the world wars also, which didn’t interest me as much as the older relics.

Super Secret Promenade
East of the museum is a huge pedestrian street lined with cafes and bars and completely devoid of tourist crowds. Why didn’t I find this place before?! There was no shopping, but you had your pick of lunch spots. I sat down at a little place and ordered a big salad and a coke and watched the few people pass by. Large and gaudy private yachts were tied up on the wall, their uniformed crew moving about while the owners were off playing in the city. A giant cruise ship left the harbor, its balconies crowded with passengers who looked like they were already partying the way you can in international waters.

Zippy Trip Through the Lagoon
I barely had time to get to the lagoon islands and do any real damage, but I was going to try. Unfortunately, I would have to skip the cemetery island, which appeared uncrowned and would have been a nice place to picnic if visiting during lunch time. My two stops were Murano, the glass island, and Burano, the lace island.

There are several stops in Murano, and I took the first, walking through town to another dock where I would catch a boat to Burano. The main street was lined with shops and studios, all eager to sell. I stood back and watched a crowd huddle in the doorway of a glass studio, where the artisans heated and shaped the glass. I guess I’ve been spoiled by the overly creative people in the Seattle area, having seen several glass demonstrations on my home turf. But these visitors had never seen glass manipulated in its molten state before, and their “oohs” and “aahs” were amusing but not out of place. While waiting for the boat to Burano, my sunglasses broke. The little screw had come out somewhere. I entered a glass jewelry shop and mimed my situation to the shopkeeper, wondering if she had some kind of pin that could hold the glasses together. Her patch job was pure skill, and now I had a piece of custom Venetian craftsmanship to take home with me.

Lace on Burano
I got to Burano in time to visit the museum, which was included in my expensive Venice museum admission card. The lace museum was small, displaying many lace pieces from the 1700’s to present day. It would have been cool if there was a display actually explaining lace making, but maybe that is one of the many secrets Venetians like to keep for themselves. The only full piece of clothing displayed was a ceremonial gown worn by some royal person. It was exquisite, with pearls and hand-stitched embroidery. The whole visit took about ten minutes, maybe 15 tops. On my way back to the dock I ducked in several shops. The work really was beautiful, but expensive. I settled on a handkerchief with my initial.

Glass on Murano
Murano was closing up shop by the time I got there, around 5pm. Instead of trying to find the glass museum, also covered by my expensive museum pass, I decided to stroll back through town to my starting point. I popped in some of the shops which were open, but nothing stood out to me as a must-have. Originally I intended to buy some glass jewelry, but to be honest, some of the work looked exactly like what I could buy for a fraction of the price at Pike’s Place Market in Seattle. And then I found a little glass container in pink. It would be perfect for serving milk with tea. I paid more than I probably should have, and left Murano, triumphant.

Last Night Out
I unloaded my goods at the hotel and prepared to have one last hurrah before I left the city. My intention was to take the boat up to the train station and then cruise the canal, ending the evening with an overpriced wine at one of the San Marco cafes. But a little self-serve cafeteria near the train station caught my eye. Realizing my hunger, I investigated, which didn’t get me far. I had no idea how or what to order. So I asked the girl in front of me how this whole thing worked. Luckily she spoke English and even ordered for me, since all I could do was butcher the words on the menu. I ended up with fettuccini with real ham and a light cream sauce, berry mouse for dessert and a tiny bottle of white wine to top it all off. All this for under €10. The guide book said the train station neighborhood was no good at night, but I was totally at ease, and happy; I was going to have a real dinner.

Dinner for Three
The girl and her friend invited me to join them at their table. The one who helped me in line was French and also spoke both English and Italian. Her friend was Chinese and spoke her local dialect along with the generic Mandarin, English, and French. I spoke only English. We chatted about stereotypes, language, and travel as we ate. My dinner, by the way, was delicious. I was amused to find that while American women are considered easy in Italy, French women are considered easy in China. I guess if you’re a female tourist someone somewhere is going to assume they can charm their way into your pants.

Unscheduled Excursion
After dinner the girls returned to their hostel and I went back to my hotel, eventually. The boat I usually take to get back to my neighborhood changes its route after 10pm. I did not know this. So when we started to go away from Venice back to Murano, I was a little panicked. I was supposed to leave in the morning, not be stranded on an island in the lagoon! All the people working the vaporetti speak English to some extent, and I was assured me that the boat would return to Venice and stop somewhere in the general area of my destination. From that point all I could do was sit back and enjoy the ride. The lagoon is beautiful at night. Lights glow and reflect long ribbons in the water, which are occasionally interrupted by a midnight speed boater.

After an hour detour, I did make it back to the hotel. By that point I was too tired to pack. I set my alarm for an earlier hour and passed out completely.

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