Visiting Venice
I didn’t want to leave Bergamo. But Venice was on the horizon. And even though I’d heard some mixed things about it, nobody told me not to go. Even if they had, I still would have gone. Because, well, it’s Venice.
A Sun-Splashed Arrival
Venice knows how to serve up an entrance. As the train approaches the city, which it does via a long, narrow strip of land, everyone squishes their faces against the train windows to try to get the first glimpse. When you do finally arrive at Santa Lucia station, de-board the train, and weave your way through the masses of people, you emerge into bright, bright sunlight, both beaming down from above and simultaneously shattering into a million pieces from being reflected upon the canal. It’s hard not to gasp.
To get to my hotel, I took a ferry that snaked its way through the Grand Canal, stopping on alternate shores every couple of meters or so. It took a long time, but there is so much to look at that it’s easy to keep yourself entertained. You know what was not entertaining? The old man whose family all found seats on the ferry, but because there wasn’t one for him, he decided to stand right next to me and strike up a conversation. At first, the conversation was pleasant enough. But as it progressed, it kind of started to go off the rails and get weird. It went on like this for a few minutes until he found out I was traveling alone and decided to offer this bit of wisdom: “You know, the thing about traveling alone is that the highs aren’t as high and the lows are much, much lower.” At which point, I pointed to a seat that had become available and said “There’s a seat open over there. You should grab it.” He went to sit down and I returned to my not-as-high-as-it-could-be experience of Venice, totally beaming.
The hotel I stayed at, Pensione Accademia, was small and quaint and totally adorable. My room was a tiny little single with a twin bed and a view of both the hotel’s garden and the Rio de San Trovaso canal meeting up with the Grand Canal. I threw down my bags and immediately headed for St. Mark’s Square. Again, once I’m within a short walk of where Annie Lennox once filmed a music video—uh, sorry, I mean: “one of the most famous churches in the world”—I have to see it immediately.
Where Annie Lennox Filmed the Music Video for “The Gift” (Or, As Everyone Else Refers to It: Saint Mark’s Square)
Okay, I’m going to just get this out of the way. Walking through Venice is a trip. It’s basically a succession of tiny lanes and small bridges, interspersed with expansive, gorgeous piazzas. Everything is really well labeled (at least in terms of getting to the major parts of the city), so that, paired with an occasional glance at Google Maps, makes it pretty easy to get around. However, the thing I found really challenging about Venice is how crowded these small lanes can get. And because the small lanes frequently open up to much larger spaces, it’s sort of like driving on a freeway, but getting off at every single exit and then immediately merging back onto the freeway. You’re constantly negotiating slipping into (and out of) the flow of human traffic. At its best, it’s fun and kind of like a game. At its worst, you feel like you’re in one of those ant farms for kids where all of the ants are climbing over each other to get through the tiny tunnels in the sand. Am I being a bit dramatic about this? Sure. But also, that’s why you’re here, right?
St. Mark’s Square is, as the poets have been saying for hundreds of years, totally rad. Although crowded and touristy, I spent quite a bit of time here. I just loved it. In addition to the visit on my first afternoon in the city, I came back for morning coffee at Caffè Florian (a magnificent café, decorated to the nines), my visit to St. Mark’s Basilica and Campanile (the giant tower), and aperitivo on my last night in Venice as the sun set and lit the basilica’s golden mosaics on fire. This is just one of those places that you need to see at different times of the day. So I did.
Two notes about the basilica and Campanile. Being at the top of the tower, overlooking Venice, completely took my breath away. I mean, I’ve seen great views before, but there is something about this particular view that left me at a complete loss for words. As I circled the observation deck, taking photos and admiring different views of the city, all I could think was, “I don’t think I can put this into words.” It’s really incredible.
Second, another one of those “my favorite part about seeing world-famous sites is getting to see them in context” things: after touring the inside of St. Mark’s Basilica, I went upstairs to visit the museum. At first, I found it kind of boring. It was like, uh, cool, thank for showing me how to make a mosaic and for miles of tapestries. But then the museum took this wild turn and all of a sudden, I found myself outside on the upper part of the basilica, behind the Triumphal Quadriga (better known as the Horses of Saint Mark), and right next to the golden mosaics at the front of the cathedral. It was totally unexpected because I didn’t even know that people were allowed on this part of the building. I spent a ton of time up here, taking photos, admiring the up-close view of the mosaics, and gazing out over St. Mark’s Square.
A Collection of Venetian Moments
Throughout my stay, I could watch boats as they merged into or out of the Grand Canal. Sometimes they honked. Sometimes they were blasting music. And sometimes their engines just churned the water into a froth behind them. It fascinated me endlessly.
One night, in my ongoing pursuit of vegetables, I went to a small vendor who was set up in Campo Stefano and bought fresh green beans, tomatoes, and a giant bag of arugula. I ate that, along with a side dish of veggie pizza and a bottle of wine, in the garden of my pensione. And, because I was within WiFi distance of the hotel, I was able to talk to my mom for two hours as the day turned into night. It felt really nice to get a serving of home along with my veggies.
One of my favorite parts of being in Italy is doing the mundane, everyday stuff. On the morning before the day I left, I went to a laundromat that was about a twenty-minute walk from my hotel. There was something so fun about heading to a random, not-well traveled part of the city with a chore to do. On my way, I saw lots of people who seemed to be going to work, and I even got to stop at an out-of-the-way pasticcheria that Michele recommended to me for a coffee and whole wheat croissant.
Fun fact: Sometimes, when I’m speaking with people in Italian and I have no idea what they’ve said and there’s a line of people behind me and I’m nervous, I’ll just pretend like I know what they said. This is exactly what happened when I asked what was in the whole wheat croissant at the pasticcheria. I really had no idea what the barista said when he responded, but I acted as if I did and confidently ordered it. Well, turns out that what he said was “this croissant is filled with the most decadent, delicious blackberry jam you’ve ever had and from this moment on, you will always—always!—hope that your croissants may be filled with decadent, delicious blackberry jam.” And he was right.
Last thing on Venice:
Naturally, I’m learning things about myself on this trip. I’ll say more about this in the future, as it’s still developing, but suffice to say, it’s been awhile since I’ve been so far out of my comfort zone. So, on my last night in Venice, I was trying to find someplace to have dinner. I had been making my way through a list of recommendations from the incredible Italian food aficionado Elizabeth Minchilli and on my final night, I was hoping to go to Zucca, a vegetarian restaurant that was pretty far from my hotel. They didn’t open until 7:30, so while waiting for them to open, I basically just killed a bunch of time (while getting hungrier and hungrier). When they did finally open, I found out they were completely booked for the night. I was bummed of course, but figured I would find something else wonderful on my way back to my hotel. But the closer I got to my hotel, and the more hosts that looked at me like I was crazy trying to eat dinner at their restaurant on a Friday night without a reservation, the more I lost hope. With each bridge I crossed, I became more sure that I was going to be stuck eating a bag of chips from the tabaccheria next door to my hotel. I was kicking myself for not making a reservation and feeling like I had really blown it on my last night in Venice. But then I came to Campo San Barnaba. This is a very special part of Venice for me because it’s where some of the most famous scenes from Katharine Hepburn’s love letter to Venice Summertime were filmed. (Cineturismo!) As I was almost to my hotel, I decided to make one last ditch effort and see if I could get into a tiny little restaurant Elizabeth had recommended in San Barnaba called La Bitta. I walked in and asked if I could have dinner. Ignoring my question, the host asked me to write down my name and phone number (I assumed so that he could call me in two hours when a table would be ready.) Instead, he immediately showed me to a little corner table right next to the window and with a lovely view of the whole restaurant. It wound up being a magnificent meal and reminded me why it’s important to relax and just allow the Universe to just do its thing sometimes.
