Venice
I loved Venice. It's one of the most beautiful, romantic places I've ever been. (Of course, I shared the city with the one person with whom I share all my romantic moments in Europe: Leslie.) I loved all the cities I visited for different reasons, but I have to say that Venice ranks just below the Greek islands on my list of favorite places I've visited. Leslie's guidebook said that, because everyone knows the city is gradually sinking into the marsh, there's a sense of impending doom in Venice. I didn't feel that at all; the city was vibrant and quite cheerful, but I could see why the book made that assertion. Everything there is so old; no large construction machinery could possibly be brought in to tear down old buildings and construct modern monstrosities, even if the ground could potentially hold their weight. The old villas look somewhat dilapidated after centuries of baking under the Italian sun, but it only adds to their beauty. The streets, even many of the main ones, are extremely narrow, some so much so that you nearly have to turn sideways to enter them. They twist and turn their way through Venice, essentially making it into one giant labyrinth. Even the best map-reader is bound to get lost at least a few times. Canals snake through the city, some big, some small, some lined with sidewalks, some running along directly next to building walls. Most roads (but not all) are connected by bridges where they cross the canals, but pedestrians had better be prepared to climb some stairs. If you're going to Venice, don't bring a rolly suitcase; the wheels will become more of an annoyance than an aid. To cross a canal you climb up the stairs, walk a little, then climb right back down. People making deliveries in Venice can't use trucks. They pull up to a dock in their power boats, load goods to be delivered into carts, and roll their carts along behind them through the narrow alleys to their destination. The carts look as though they could have been constructed during the early Renaissance. Even Venetian municipal workers look like they belong in another time; the brooms they use look like they should be props in period films set hundreds of years ago. There's a mysterious, other-worldly feeling to the city. It's the perfect setting for Poe's The Cask of Amontillado. It's the perfect place to celebrate Carneval. I absolutely loved it.
Leslie and I arrived in Venice around 8:30 am on Wednesday, February 23. We immediately got lost while trying to find our hostel; the directions we had were awful and we hadn't yet bought a map. After having to cross several bridges, stumbling up and down numerous flights of stairs looking like turtles hunched over in our huge packs, we finally stopped a woman and asked for directions. She actually led us all the way there; it was quite a nice thing to do. Leslie and I couldn't check in to our hostel immediately, but we did get to freshen up some in the lobby bathroom. I took the opportunity to remove the leggings I was wearing under my pants; it had been so cold in every other city we'd visited that I hadn't worn just one pair of pants in well over a week. Venice wasn't exactly warm, but it wasn't intolerably cold, either. We had procured a map from the woman working at the hostel and were deciding where we wanted to go first, when who should walk into the hostel lobby but Laura Whitney, Leslie's roommate in Lyon. It turns out she, a friend of hers from home, and another assistant, Laura Stiebitz, were staying in the same hostel, and we'd had no idea!
After making some small talk with them, Leslie and I set out for the Piazza San Marco, which is the city's most famous square. Despite the fact that it was nearly 10:30 in the morning, the streets were almost completely deserted. Everyone sleeps late in Italy, and things didn't start to open up until around 11. The Piazza San Marco was extremely impressive. Imagine wandering down narrow, windy streets lined with souvenir shops and expensive clothing stores and then suddenly emerging into a square so large you could probably fit at least two football fields inside. Three sides of the square were completely enclosed by huge, ornate buildings, with passageways built in on ground level so pedestrians can pass through. The Venetian government used to occupy the buildings; today there are several museums inside. The Campanile di San Marco and the Basilica di San Marco define the fourth side of the square. The Campanile di San Marco is a tall, red-brick bell tower; it's actually a 20th century reconstruction of a 1000 year old bell tower that fell in 1902. The Basilica San Marco is a huge cathedral with five enormous domes, built to house the bones of Saint Mark, the patron saint of Venice. Originally, Saint Theodore was the patron saint of the city, but because he was from the East, the Venetians decided that making him the patron saint of Venice would somehow make them seem inferior to the Byzantines. They thought about adopting Saint Pater, but they didn't want to share him with the Romans, so they settled on Saint Mark. The other interesting thing to note about the square is that it's packed full with pigeons. They're everywhere, and they're not afraid of people because a lot of the tourists feed them. At times walking across the square, you're literally shuffling through them.
Leslie and I went in the Basilica, which was quite impressive. Gold mosaics covered all five of its domes, and different color marble stones created an elaborate pattern on the floor. We also got to go upstairs and out on the balcony, where we had a spectacular view of the Piazza. Just off to the side of the Piazza San Marco, between the Basilica and the Grand Canal is a much smaller square called the Piazetta San Marco. The Palazzo Ducale, or Doge's Palace, stands on one side, and you have a great view of the Venetian islands across the water.
We took a tour of the Palazzo Ducale and the former state prison. The Palazzo was in fact not just the home of the Doge; several important government bodies had their meeting rooms there as well. The state court was even located inside. (Before Italy was united, Venice was actually an independent state with its own laws and its own rulers.) The Doge was the leader of Venice, but according to our tour, he had no real power and was not even allowed to represent the state. (We think that last part must have been a translation error.) The state prison was located just across a small canal from the palace itself and was connected to the palace by a covered bridge. The bridge was known as the Bridge of Sighs, because as prisoners walked across, they would gaze out of the bridge's extremely small windows and sigh as they got one last glimpse of the city outside before going to jail.
After lunch, Leslie and I walked to the Rialto area, where there's a large market every day. We got some gelato and crossed the Grand Canal via the Rialto Bridge, which is one of Venice's most famous bridges. Stores line both sides of it, most of them selling Venetian glass, Carneval masks, colorful pasta, and other souvenirs.
That evening we bought a bottle of Limoncello at a grocery store and went back to check into our hostel. We found out that our room was actually located two blocks away from the hostel lobby in a different building. Breakfast each morning was free; it was served in one of the cafes located in the same campo, or square, as the hostel. That first night, we shared our room with an American girl named Audrey. I referred to her as the anti-Audrey, because she was the exact opposite of my friend Audrey. I'll restrain myself from repeating the many asinine things she said to us and only say that Leslie and I were not very fond of her.
Later that night, after we had had some of our Limoncello (which we begrudgingly shared with anti-Audrey because we are such nice girls), we went out to a couple of bars. We managed to find one where you could get glasses of white wine for only 80 cents! I also had a really good drink called a spritz; I'm not sure of all the ingredients, but I was told it had white wine and apple liquor in it. At one point we met an Italian fireman who spoke a little bit of French; he taught us some phrases in Italian. Interestingly enough, you're not allowed to smoke inside any restaurant, bar, or public establishment in the entire country of Italy. I say "interestingly" because I've yet to meet a single Italian who doesn't smoke. The streets there are filled with people standing outside smoking. No smoking laws work in places like LA (or the US in general), where not very many people do smoke, but I don't see it lasting in Italy.
Our second day in Venice was the first sunny day of our vacation, and we were quite excited. That morning we walked to the ghetto of Venice. It was created in 1516 as a compulsory place of residence for the Jews. The term ghetto is thought to have originated in Venice; it comes from "geto," which means "to throw or cast," referring to foundries which were formerly located there. We also walked down to the Ponte Dell'Accademia, where another very large bridge crosses the Grand Canal. Actually, we'd walked across the bridge the morning before just after leaving the train station, but we were too tired and encumbered to appreciate it then. That afternoon, we went to the Museo Correr, a museum of Venetian history and culture. While buying a diet coke that evening in the grocery store, I ran into our fireman friend from the night before; it was quite amusing.
Friday was our last day in Venice, so we had to pack up our bags and check out that morning. It turned out to be the longest check-out process in the world. The little man who was working at the reception was hilarious, though; he actually asked us how much we thought we should pay.
Apparently it had rained the night before, and the Piazza San Marco was flooded! Elevated planks had been set up so the tourists could still get across. We spent most of the day just walking around, taking pictures and shopping, and then we caught our train to Florence that afternoon.
There are a couple things I neglected to mention as I described Venice. There is, in fact one modern building in the city, but only one. There is also an extremely confusing square that Leslie and I called "the square of death." It was located on the way back to our hostel, and it was impossible for Leslie and I to turn in the right direction after we'd passed through it. We got lost every single time.
Leslie and I arrived in Venice around 8:30 am on Wednesday, February 23. We immediately got lost while trying to find our hostel; the directions we had were awful and we hadn't yet bought a map. After having to cross several bridges, stumbling up and down numerous flights of stairs looking like turtles hunched over in our huge packs, we finally stopped a woman and asked for directions. She actually led us all the way there; it was quite a nice thing to do. Leslie and I couldn't check in to our hostel immediately, but we did get to freshen up some in the lobby bathroom. I took the opportunity to remove the leggings I was wearing under my pants; it had been so cold in every other city we'd visited that I hadn't worn just one pair of pants in well over a week. Venice wasn't exactly warm, but it wasn't intolerably cold, either. We had procured a map from the woman working at the hostel and were deciding where we wanted to go first, when who should walk into the hostel lobby but Laura Whitney, Leslie's roommate in Lyon. It turns out she, a friend of hers from home, and another assistant, Laura Stiebitz, were staying in the same hostel, and we'd had no idea!
After making some small talk with them, Leslie and I set out for the Piazza San Marco, which is the city's most famous square. Despite the fact that it was nearly 10:30 in the morning, the streets were almost completely deserted. Everyone sleeps late in Italy, and things didn't start to open up until around 11. The Piazza San Marco was extremely impressive. Imagine wandering down narrow, windy streets lined with souvenir shops and expensive clothing stores and then suddenly emerging into a square so large you could probably fit at least two football fields inside. Three sides of the square were completely enclosed by huge, ornate buildings, with passageways built in on ground level so pedestrians can pass through. The Venetian government used to occupy the buildings; today there are several museums inside. The Campanile di San Marco and the Basilica di San Marco define the fourth side of the square. The Campanile di San Marco is a tall, red-brick bell tower; it's actually a 20th century reconstruction of a 1000 year old bell tower that fell in 1902. The Basilica San Marco is a huge cathedral with five enormous domes, built to house the bones of Saint Mark, the patron saint of Venice. Originally, Saint Theodore was the patron saint of the city, but because he was from the East, the Venetians decided that making him the patron saint of Venice would somehow make them seem inferior to the Byzantines. They thought about adopting Saint Pater, but they didn't want to share him with the Romans, so they settled on Saint Mark. The other interesting thing to note about the square is that it's packed full with pigeons. They're everywhere, and they're not afraid of people because a lot of the tourists feed them. At times walking across the square, you're literally shuffling through them.
Leslie and I went in the Basilica, which was quite impressive. Gold mosaics covered all five of its domes, and different color marble stones created an elaborate pattern on the floor. We also got to go upstairs and out on the balcony, where we had a spectacular view of the Piazza. Just off to the side of the Piazza San Marco, between the Basilica and the Grand Canal is a much smaller square called the Piazetta San Marco. The Palazzo Ducale, or Doge's Palace, stands on one side, and you have a great view of the Venetian islands across the water.
We took a tour of the Palazzo Ducale and the former state prison. The Palazzo was in fact not just the home of the Doge; several important government bodies had their meeting rooms there as well. The state court was even located inside. (Before Italy was united, Venice was actually an independent state with its own laws and its own rulers.) The Doge was the leader of Venice, but according to our tour, he had no real power and was not even allowed to represent the state. (We think that last part must have been a translation error.) The state prison was located just across a small canal from the palace itself and was connected to the palace by a covered bridge. The bridge was known as the Bridge of Sighs, because as prisoners walked across, they would gaze out of the bridge's extremely small windows and sigh as they got one last glimpse of the city outside before going to jail.
After lunch, Leslie and I walked to the Rialto area, where there's a large market every day. We got some gelato and crossed the Grand Canal via the Rialto Bridge, which is one of Venice's most famous bridges. Stores line both sides of it, most of them selling Venetian glass, Carneval masks, colorful pasta, and other souvenirs.
That evening we bought a bottle of Limoncello at a grocery store and went back to check into our hostel. We found out that our room was actually located two blocks away from the hostel lobby in a different building. Breakfast each morning was free; it was served in one of the cafes located in the same campo, or square, as the hostel. That first night, we shared our room with an American girl named Audrey. I referred to her as the anti-Audrey, because she was the exact opposite of my friend Audrey. I'll restrain myself from repeating the many asinine things she said to us and only say that Leslie and I were not very fond of her.
Later that night, after we had had some of our Limoncello (which we begrudgingly shared with anti-Audrey because we are such nice girls), we went out to a couple of bars. We managed to find one where you could get glasses of white wine for only 80 cents! I also had a really good drink called a spritz; I'm not sure of all the ingredients, but I was told it had white wine and apple liquor in it. At one point we met an Italian fireman who spoke a little bit of French; he taught us some phrases in Italian. Interestingly enough, you're not allowed to smoke inside any restaurant, bar, or public establishment in the entire country of Italy. I say "interestingly" because I've yet to meet a single Italian who doesn't smoke. The streets there are filled with people standing outside smoking. No smoking laws work in places like LA (or the US in general), where not very many people do smoke, but I don't see it lasting in Italy.
Our second day in Venice was the first sunny day of our vacation, and we were quite excited. That morning we walked to the ghetto of Venice. It was created in 1516 as a compulsory place of residence for the Jews. The term ghetto is thought to have originated in Venice; it comes from "geto," which means "to throw or cast," referring to foundries which were formerly located there. We also walked down to the Ponte Dell'Accademia, where another very large bridge crosses the Grand Canal. Actually, we'd walked across the bridge the morning before just after leaving the train station, but we were too tired and encumbered to appreciate it then. That afternoon, we went to the Museo Correr, a museum of Venetian history and culture. While buying a diet coke that evening in the grocery store, I ran into our fireman friend from the night before; it was quite amusing.
Friday was our last day in Venice, so we had to pack up our bags and check out that morning. It turned out to be the longest check-out process in the world. The little man who was working at the reception was hilarious, though; he actually asked us how much we thought we should pay.
Apparently it had rained the night before, and the Piazza San Marco was flooded! Elevated planks had been set up so the tourists could still get across. We spent most of the day just walking around, taking pictures and shopping, and then we caught our train to Florence that afternoon.
There are a couple things I neglected to mention as I described Venice. There is, in fact one modern building in the city, but only one. There is also an extremely confusing square that Leslie and I called "the square of death." It was located on the way back to our hostel, and it was impossible for Leslie and I to turn in the right direction after we'd passed through it. We got lost every single time.