Abenteuer Zwanzig: Venice

The first thing I did when I got off my train in Venice was refuse the numerous offers of breakfast which were proffered to me by the young (male) french actor I had met on the train. Everywhere I went in Europe, I received such offers from such men. This was confusing and surprising to me, partially for the fact that in America I seldom have men offer to buy me anything, but mostly for the fact that, the longer I traveled, the more exhausted, unwashed, unkempt, and, honestly, homeless I looked. Maybe homeless-chic is the latest Parisian trend and men are clamoring for women who attempt to adhere to it..? Anyway, I digress. 

Venice. I was in Venice.

How can I explain Venice?

The city has a weird sort of magic to it. Not in the main tourist areas, and certainly not in Saint Mark's square, but when you get away from the crowds, when you get down the narrow alleys or the isolated channels...there's kind of a quite hum about the air there, a mysterious glamour in the chipping old paint and the dampening shadows. 

Venice feels like the first sentence of a mystery novel or the inside of a soap bubble. The longer you look, the more you feel like you don't see. 

(Thanks to "The Thief Lord"  by Cornelia Funke I am, of course, deeply biased towards this city. But I think it's not just me).

Anyway, Venice. I got off my train in Venice, said goodbye to my French companion, and set about my usual quest for breakfast. I spent some time exploring the streets near the train station.

In Venice, they sell these masks everywhere. Literally.

 When I finally got food, a croissant and a cappuccino, I was shocked to  find near-Swiss prices. I guess it made sense, for a tourist city, but still..I hadn't expected to find Swiss prices anywhere, and certainly not in Italy.

I'd heard on the usual tourist webpages that a vaporetto ride down the Grand Canal was a Venice must. Since this was also the easiest way for me to get to my hostel (on the other side of the city), I decided to see for myself.

The wait on the platform for the vaporetto gave me a really exciting view of life on the canal. 

Check out the gondolier

When we boarded the vaporetto (aka water bus, aka BIG boat), Gary was excited to see what he could see. I was excited to see the mountains. I'm going to miss the mountains when I go back to the USA.

 When I got off the boat, I was greeted by the sight of these fine ladies. There were several other people dressed like them, standing around and, I suspect, finding creative ways to  relieve tourists of their money.

 There were a lot of tourists. And I mean, a lot of tourists. Tourists as far as the eye could see.

Which meant there were also lots of souvenir stands, selfie-stick merchants, increasingly aggressive bootlegged-Prada vendors, bracelet-men, pickpockets, pigeons, and thieves.

Fortunately, my homeless-chic look protected me from having anyone assume that I actually had anything worth stealing.

I set off in search of my hostel. The maze of Venetian alleyways and canals meant that I spent several hours looking. This gave me a nice chance to see the non-tourist side of the city.  

 Eventually, with help, I found my hostel--a little arrangement on the second floor of an unmarked building at the end of a narrow, nameless alley that branched off of an unnamed courtyard easily reached by an unnamed street. The staff was amazed that I'd had difficulty spotting it.

On my way to Saint Mark's square, I found something even more exciting than my hostel--PIZZA. Cheap, enormously-portioned, vegetarian pizza, to boot!

 As I approached the Square again, the swarms of tourists reemerged. It reminded me a bit of Disney World, honestly.

The Bell tower of Saint Mark's basilica. It's not actually attached to the basilica.

First glimpse of the Doge's Palace.

The front of Saint Mark's

Likewise

The rest of the square

 After poking around Saint Mark's square for a bit, I decided to tour the Doge's Palace. It was remarkably beautiful.

The Doge's private gondola

View from the second level

 Inside, the decorations were...let's just say, elaborate.

Where the Doge's throne would have been.

 An interesting thing about the Doge: he was originally an elected official. The government of Venice paid for his lodging here, but very few rooms in the Palace were actually occupied by the Doge. The rest belonged to the government and were used for political meetings, trials at court, armories, and even prisons. Can you imagine living in a Palace above a prison?

I really enjoyed learning about the history of Venice on this tour--it's something I think I've never been exposed to in any of my history classes, which is weird because, as Venice was a sovereign state and one of the wealthiest and most powerful countries in the Mediterranean (not to mention a hub of music and art) you'd think schools today would at least mention it.

Venice was officially founded in 421, but people have occupied the area since 166 or 168. The first Doge was appointed in 700, and in 1172 the office of the Doge was made an appointed position--it became illegal for a son to become Doge after his father. Construction on the Palace as it is today began in 1483, about 200 years before Versailles was even conceived. 

 Doges ruled Venice until 1797, when Venice was conquered by Napoleon. Call me crazy, but I think that if you have a governmental system which lasts over 1000 years, you might just be doing something right.

 Of course, the Doge's reign wasn't always peacefully preserved. He had a vast network of spies which helped him maintain control even over other members of the government. He also had the most powerful armies and navies in Europe, a fact showcased by the Palace armory.

In the armory, the Doge had a vast selection of weapons from all over the world. He would display these to visiting dignitaries. No wonder Venice remained independent for so long.

The view from the armory window.

 After we went through all the rooms of the palace, my tour took me to the palace dungeons. Needless to say, they weren't quite as posh as the rest of the establishment.

To get into the prisons, you had to cross the "Bridge of Sighs" (named by, who else? Lord Byron. I keep running into Byron over here). This bridge had tiny windows that afforded passers-through one last look at the city of Venice before they were locked away in misery and darkness.

The prisons themselves looked about like you'd expect--tiny dank stone rooms with no furnishings or glimpse of sunlight. They were also quite damp and, I expect, would freeze in the winter and boil in the summer. 

Cheery place.

This picture. I'm proud of this picture. See the green streak and the pink streak at the other end of the wall? The "paranormal experts" on the horrible "ghost-hunting" shows I watch in the U.S would say that those stripes are ghosts. My mom, who knows a hell of a lot about photography, would say that a bug flew past while I was taking the picture or something. While I tend to agree that the bug explanation is more accurate, I do have to say: of all the places which would probably be haunted in this world , a medieval dungeon is a pretty good candidate. And isn't the shadow at the end of the green streak kind of person-sized?

And look at this place. Doesn't it just sort of scream "haunt me?"

After my fun in the (totally not haunted) dungeon, I went back out into the bright light of day. I fought the lingering gloom in my usual manner--food. 

In this case, real Italian Amaretto Gelato.

After ice cream, I did some more sight seeing.

The Basilica Santa Maria della Salute

Basilica San Giorgio di Maggiore. Apparently there are a lot of basilicas on the Grand Canal.

Saint Mark's, at a distance. They were doing renovations, like literally every other European monument is doing at all times. 

A fleet of gondolas

Our steadfast gondoliers.

I decided at this point to hop a vaporetto over to the island of Murano, which is famous for its glass making. It was getting late, so most of the shops (which all sold glassware) were closing. I did get to see a few pretty glass things.

All the stores were like this

The island of Murano

The church of Santa Maria e San Donato, from the twelfth century. There are supposed to be the bones of a dragon buried beneath the altar.

At this point, the sun was starting to set and I was starting to freeze. I decided to head back in search of food and, to alleviate the pain in my feet (at this point I'd walked so much that the insoles of my shoes had broken and fallen out), drink.

I wound up in a tourist cafe on the street that leads to Saint Mark's. Unfortunately, I had to sit outside. Fortunately, this meant I could watch all the people and boats passing by. It also meant I could order homemade vegetarian lasagne and, to my delight, this fantastic froofy orange drink called a Spritz.

After dinner, I went home, warmed up, and passed out. I was already exhausted--and my trip was only just beginning.