Day 27 - July 11 - Secret Itineraries Tour

---

I had booked us the famed “Secret Itineraries” tour of the Doges Palace. This was also the first time we would see San Marco up close. We were switching hotels today and before we checked out, I made Sam run up on the Academia Bridge and take my picture from our window, so I would always remember how close I had stayed to the bridge and to the Grand Canal.

Hotel Galleria held our bags, so we wandered unencumbered to San Marco. We explored the square, and watched the little robot men on top of the Torre dell’Orologio hit the clock’s bell when the hour struck ten. We headed over to the Bridge of Sighs and sighed at its unfortunate condition, covered as it was in advertising by the sponsors of its repairs. Then it was time for the main event of the day.

Our reservations got us past the line and into the Doge’s Palace. We waited for our guide, despite a small disagreement about where to wait, we managed to find our group. The tour was amazing. The history of Palace, the power that worked there, its jail cells, the legend of Casanova - this was my favourite tour of the whole trip. I loved hearing about the politics of Venice, and how the Doge was basically a figure head and prisoner of his own palace. I learned things I had never known to explore, like the fact that Venice was the first place in the world to develop a form of legal aid, where prisoners of the Palace jail who could not afford lawyers were given representation by the state, and how confessions extracted by torture were not valid to convict someone early in Venice. That the Palace had little slots where people could make accusations against others. It was neat to see the government’s seat, and to hear the stories of how the head bureaucrat was paid very well to avoid any sot of corruption.

The only problem with the tour was, it was hot. Very very hot. There is no air conditioning in the Doge’s palace, very little air flow, and lots of stairs and cramped spaces. That, of course, is most of its charm. Also, we had checked our packs before the tour, as required, and so had no water. The tour was 2+ hours, and only scratched the surface of what there was to see in the Doge’s Palace. When it was over I was ready to call it a day; Sam however was not.

We spent another hour and a half or so looking around, and in retrospect it was worth it. The painted ceilings were amazing, as was the art and history of each room. But it was very hot. And I was very tired. And probably a little snappy. And somewhere near the end of the palace, Sam started snapping back, and we had to sit down in a quiet little room for twenty minutes and talk out our fight. We agreed we were both tired and thirsty, so we went to the cafeteria and paid $5 each for a seven-up. We should have done that after the tour, and then proceeded to finish up with our exploring. After the seven-up we visited a few more rooms, refreshed, and headed back to Galleria to pick up our packs.

Sam was keen to see the Rialto bridge during the day and I was dying to go to a little journal store I had gone to the last time I was in Venice. Rivoaltus has got to be my favourite place in the whole world. The store is about the size of a closet, with a workshop upstairs. You go in there and the place smells like parchment and paper and ink. The woman who runs it has been making replicas of old style journals for years. As far as I know you cannot order them; you can only buy these journals when you go to Venice. Believe me, I will be back to Venice in my life if only to go to this store again.

The leather bound journals come in every colour imaginable. I had bought brown and burgundy last time and had filled them up years ago; I had been dreaming of a blue one. In fact, I had carefully avoided buying too many souvenirs throughout the trip because I wanted to buy three or four journals in this store. I walked in and was so excited, and was excited to show Sam. My grumpy mood from earlier cleared the moment I walked into this store. I found the perfect blue journal in seconds, then selected another leather one, and a third, hard-backed journal, as well as a small pen with ink.

We took it up to the cash and I told the women who makes the journals that I just love them, and had so enjoyed writing in the last too, and thanked her so much for making them. She seemed happy to hear that her lifes work made others happy. She insisted on giving me the pen and ink as a gift. I told her I’d be back in another ten years, and she said, in the mean time, I should “do good work” in the journals. Another wonderful memory from my favourite store in the whole world.

We stopped for some food at a good little cafeteria near St. Marks that Sam had read about in the lonely planet guidebook. I no longer have our notes so I can’t tell you which one, but pick up the lonely planet guidebook for the reference. The slice of re-heated lasagne was to die for. It was pleasant enough until a class trip came in to eat; at that point we decided it was time to go. We stopped at an English book store for new books, then we wandered back to our hotel, picked up our packs, and set off to the other side of Venice.

We took our first Vaparetto ride across the lagoon, to the tip of Venice. Our final place to stay was the B&B Venezia, a small, quiet family run place on the park. After our hectic time in Venice thus far, it would serve as a breather. We enjoyed a forty minute Vaparetto ride, exiting at the Sant’ Elena stop alongside locals with children and groceries. We found the place easily, and settled into our final stop.

We had dinner at the little pizza place in the park, where I caught my first glace of a young man, a local teenager of sixteen or seventeen who clearly has all of Sant’Elena wrapped around his little finger. I know his name and recall it clearly because of the number of people who greeted this guy or called out to him over the four days we stated there, but I’ve chosen not to use his name, just in case he or his friends come across this review online. Anyway, at this first encounter, this young man was sitting with a five or six other teenagers sharing a pizza. He sat at the head of the table with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He was a part of every conversation, and everyone deferred to him when he had something to say (which was not often). I’ve worked with a lot of young leaders, and this young man was one of the few who truly stand out - who you know is destined for great things. When the time came to pay, he collected everyone’s money - throwing in an extra couple of euro himself - and went into the restaurant to greet the servers, the owner and the bartender as he paid. Over the next few days I would see the boy leading a soccer game in the park, hanging out on a corner with a group of teens surrounding him; and greeting everyone in the community that he saw. I hope he stays in Venice, and in Sant’Elena. Venice needs leaders like this kid to hang around.

I had an enjoyable pizza watching the teen table. I felt like I was getting a sense of “real” Venice. Everyone says it doesn’t exit, but I saw it at a small pizza place overlooking the park in Sant’Elena, and I was so glad we had decided to stay there.

---