Venice, Italy - Welcome to Waterworld!

---

Venice, Italy

Welcome to Waterworld!

Venice, or Venezia to the Italians, is of course famous for its canals. There are about 150 of the buggers, splitting up nearly 120 islands, all connected by about 400 bridges. There are no cars in Venice. Instead, water taxis, waterbuses, and the world-famous gondolas sweep along its myriad of canals. Unique in Europe, Venice is the only major city that still functions without the use of roads. If you want to get anywhere in Venice you have to get in a boat or else walk.
Arriving in Venice around noon, we disembarked from the Sprit of Dubrovnik, the high-speed ferry that had delivered us from Poreč, Croatia. Our trip to Venice was going to be a real whistle-stopper; we had a mere five hours to experience all things Italia!


After Jodie and I, together with our fellow passengers, went through Italian customs, our guide took us across the Accademia Bridge (Ponte dell'Accademia) one of only three bridges that span the magnificent Grand Canal. We had no time to hang around and admire the view though, our guide, a tall Croatian woman carrying a distinctive white umbrella, was off in the distance, trying to shepherd two-hundred tourists through the narrow and very busy streets of Venice before we jammed up everything.
And then it started drizzling. From out of nowhere hawkers suddenly appeared selling umbrellas. A few people took up their offer, but most of us braved the rain in the hope that it would soon clear up.
Passing through downtown Venice, the first thing that struck me was the amount of grime on most of the buildings. Although architecturally beautiful, they looked like they hadn’t been cleaned for decades. We hurried on as the rain got heavier.
Soon we arrived at St Mark’s Square (Piazza San Marco), named after one of the Gospel writers. The number of people was phenomenal, as was the amount of pigeons. I’d always known Venice was famous for its feathered creatures, but seeing just how many still staggered me. They were literally everyhwere. In a money-making scheme, stalls sold seeds with which to feed them. And people did so in their scores.
“I’m sorry about the rain,” our guide said apologetically, before smiling. “But it is your fault! It hardly ever rains in Venice. You British have brought your weather to Italy! But the rain will clear soon. I promise.”


St Mark’s Square originated from the 9th century as a small area in front of St Mark’s Basilica. It was enlarged in the 12th century to its present size and shape. The square has always been the real centre of Venice. In the past, it was where all the important Venetian offices were located.
The Procuraties are three connected building on the eastern side of the square. The oldest of them, built in the 12th century, burnt down four hundred years later and had to be rebult. Today, some of the upper floors contain museums, but the lower floors are taken up by cafes and shops which stretch right along the square.
“Sometimes, in the autumn months,” explained the guide. “The tide rises, making water overflow from the canals. Everything becomes flooded. This square becomes a lake! But it is not much fun for the shops and churches.” I could well imagine. The problem minor floods caused back in the UK were stuff of legends.
With the drizzle easing slightly, we were led across the square to St Mark’s Clocktower, Venice’s most important timepiece. The outer ring of the 15th century clockface comprises of Roman Numerals, whereas the inside displays the twelve signs of the zodiac. To us, it was certanly a striking feature of the square. As we scrutinised the small detail on the clock, the rain stopped making way for some bright sunshine. Suddenlly, Venice became a very pretty city indeed.

The most striking feature of the St Mark’s square is the fabulous St Mark’s Basilica. Taking up pride of place on the western fringe, the basilica was built in 1063. It is one of the best examples of Byzantine architecture. Our guide told us that the church had in fact been based on two churches from Constantinople, now Istanbul.
The queues to get inside were horrendous, so as consolation, Jodie and I gazed at the fantastic sculptures and freezes that adrorned the exterior of the basilica. One sculpture caught my eye. It was of two bronze horses standing majestically on the second level of the basilica. The guide told us that they were called the Horses of St Mark, installed in 1254 but actually much older than that. The horses had been plundered from the Hipperdrome of Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade. The ones we stood admiring though were actually replicas put up in the 1990’s. The originals were kept in an exhibition room.
The square’s tallest structure is St Mark’s Campanile. Built as a bell tower for the basilica, it actually collapsed a few times before being totally rebuilt in 1902. At a hundred metres tall, the tower houses five bells, and offers a magnificent view of Venice. Like the basilica though, the long queues outside meant Jodie and I had to admire it from the base only. Time was not on our side on our first trip to Italy.
Beyond the Camanile, towards the mouth of the Grand Canal, were the columns depicting Venice’s two patrons, Saint Mark and Saint Teodora of Amasea. Mark is represented by the winged-lion, and Teodora is standing on the sacred crocodile of Egypt. The columns made up the official gateway to Venice and also served as the site for executions in times gone by.
Opposite the Campanile, and adjoinig St Mark’s Basilica was the Doge’s Palace. Built between the 14th and 15th centuries, the palace was the official residence of the Doge (Chief Magistrate or Leader of the Republic of Venice.) As we admired it ornately desined marble exprerior, our guide gathered us together again. “Now we go to the glass museum!” he said. “And this is something you will love!”
Visiting a glass museum was not high on my list of priorities. The thought of traipsing around a building full of glassware did not fill me with merriment. But Jodie wanted to go, and I’m glad she did, because what I witnessed inside the museum was nothing short of remarkable.
The Murano Factory was located just off the main square. We were soon in a room set aside for actual glass making. A man in his late fifties was waiting there stoking up his irons. When we were all in, the man removed a long metal stick with a large globule of red molten glass on the end. Without any fuss or ado, he then began pulling and shaping sections of the glass, until just a few seconds later, the unmistakable shape of a horse began to emerge. It was astonishing. And as we all watched, mesmerized by the man’s skill, with a deft swing of his hand, the object was placed on a nearby table. It was a majestic horse in full gallop. And the detail was amazing. I literally couldn’t believe my eyes and neither could everyone else. We all burst into rapturous applause while the glassmaker stood there looking slightly embarrassed.

We had a couple of hours to go off on our own. Jodie and I decided to go for some lunch. Heeding the warnings of the guide, we avoided the cafes of the main square, instead opting for what we thought was a reasonably priced café just along from the Grand Canal. By perusing the menu outside, we saw that pizzas were about eight euros each. Not too bad for a genuine Italian pizza, we thought.
We ordered one each, and I got a can of coke while Jodie got a half-bottle of red wine. The wine was exquisite, and while we were waiting for the food to arrive, we nibbled on some thin bread sticks. The pizzas were well worth the wait. Better than we could have imagined, and so cheap! What culinary sleuths we were for finding such affordable nosh in a foreign city.
And then came the bill. I nearly collapsed onto the floor. Over forty-six Euros (£31) for a couple of pizzas and a few glasses of wine! The can of coke was the worst offender. Five Euros it had cost. Daylight robbery. But we paid up nonetheless. The pizza had been almost worth the price. We left the café in search of the famous Rialto Bridge.

The Rialto Bridge is the oldest bridge spanning the Grand Canal. It has led a chequered history. Replaced by a wooden bridge in 1250, which included a movable central section so that tall ships could pass, the presence of the Rialto Market on the eastern bank meant an increased usage of the walkway. Soon shops were built on the bridge, which brought even more people and so inevitably, it eventually collapsed, once in 1444, and again in 1524. It was rebuilt in stone, finally completed in 1591. It is now one of the key icons of Venice. And it was packed with tourists. We were amongst the throng, fighting for a place at the edge to take a photo of the Grand Canal. It was like a rugby scrum.
After a beer (a bargain at 8 euros) in another water front café, Jodie and I headed back towards St Mark’s Square, snaking our way through the narrow streets of Venice. Numerous shops were selling beautiful face masks, but Jodie was more interested in the Italian fashion boutiques. One shop caught my attention. It sold nothing but ladies gloves. They were everywhere, adorned upon plastic hands that covered the entire shop. Soon we joined the masses on another of Venice’s famous walkways - the world-famous Bridge of Sighs.

The Bridge of Sighs is a small covered walkway that connects the old prisons to the interrogation rooms in the rear of the Doge’s Palace. Built in the 16th century, the name was actually coined by the British poet, Lord Byron in the 19th century. Byron also popularised the common held myth that the Bridge’s name was inspired by the sighs the prisoners made as they took one last look at Venice before being led to their execution. In fact, by the time the bridge was built, executions were seldom carried out in Venice. The vast majority of the prisoners housed usually being only petty criminals.
With our time almost up, Jodie and I wandered over to the two columns of St Mark’s Square, our meeting point for the next segment of our journey - a trip around the Grand Canal aboard a water taxi.
Fifteen minutes later, we were sat inside a motor boat with another dozen people. As we sailed through the main canal, the driver had to negotiate his way past other water traffic. It really was busy. And there seemed to be no rules on the canal. He who goes faster shall be lord! This was backed up a minute later when we were shunted from the side by another water taxi. After some heated gesturing together with some florid Italian from both drivers, we sailed on, with mercifully no sign of a ruptured hull.
Soon we passed by the Church of Santa Maria della Salute. There was an interesting story behind it. After the plague of 1630 had killed almost fifty thousand residents of Venice (almost a third of the total population) the Doge, Nicoló Contarini, promised to build a mighty church if the plague ended its deadly grip on the city. The following year the plague ended, but not before it had claimed the life of the Doge in the process. Nevertheless, work was begun on the church. It looked fantastic!
Look at that,” said Jodie. “A balloon poodle!”
I looked and saw what she meant. It was a giant pink sculpture of a poodle made to look like it had been formed from balloons. It seemed to be made out of glass or perhaps coloured metal. It looked bizarre. We later found out it was by the American sculptor Jeff Koons, who called his creation Balloon Dog Magenta. As it faded into the distance, our boat swung sharply to the right, not in an attempt to avoid a collision, but because we were turning off the Grand Canal onto one of the many side canals. Ten minutes later we were deposited near the ferry terminal for our trip back to Croatia. Our day in Venice was over. It had been well worth it.

---

Photos

00
On the Grand Canal

01
The Face of St Mark's Clock

02
St Mark's Basilica

03
Camponile

04
Pillar with St Mark - the Winged Lion

05
Doge's Palace

06
Glass maker - an expert at work

07
Welcome to the Masquerade!

08
Rialto Bridge - Packed!

09
The Grand Canal

10
Gondolas

11
Bridge of Sighs

12
Church of Santa Maria della Salute

13
St Mark's Horses