Ah - this is so enjoyable Peter!

I am really tempted to take up the Qantas double status credits offer that turned up in my email box yesterday and run off to Venice for all of January - but doubt that will happen.

So - I enjoy reading your thoughts, insights and commentary - and store them away for the time when the running away might just be possible.

I too reflect on the way we walk long distances, use public transport and willingly carry goods from supermarkets and small shops when we are staying in Europe - and yet here I am thinking it is too much trouble to go to the supermarket today because there is some event on and I might not be able to park without waiting ten extra minutes!

Second of December, and time to rattle the other end of the food chain, the one that’s about fish. So I took myself over to Chioggia yesterday. Chioggia might not be everyone’s cup of chi, but I enjoyed it. It’s pretty easy to get to – ferry to the lido, then the No 11 bus, which travels right down through Malamocco, to Alberoni. The bus drives onto the ferry, which goes to Pellestrina, right to the end, at the Pellestrina Cimetro, and then a ferry takes you to Chioggia. There are two buses that run in tandem, only the first goes onto the ferry at Malamocco, so if you take the trip, then the first bus is a good idea. The whole trip is one and a quarter hours. It’s not that scenic – mostly the road runs beside the sea wall, which, although a pretty amazing feat of engineering, completely blocks any view of the Adriatic. At the start of the journey, the bus goes past the beach at the Lido, countless little beach huts, looking like a rather well organised kraal, but a tad desolate in early December. I can’t help but see the contrast with Australia – we don’t have private beaches, so stake out your little patch of sand with a beach umbrella and a towel. A cooler of beer is a viable addition.

I stayed at Caldin’s Hotel, 55 euro for a room, and the heating was on full blast and most welcome. They don’t do breakfast – I’m a bit over hotel breakfasts in Italy, as they don’t seem to be good value – but the bar around the corner does the regulation cappuccino and brioche for two euro. And I ate at a waterfront trattoria, a plate of fritto misto, with fish, scallops, octopus and calamari, chips and wine for eighteen euro, including service. Good value, in a family run place, the owner’s little girl completing a jig-saw puzzle. Brava!

A couple of bonus things this morning. Watching the fleet get underway and head out – a crowded dock emptying itself in the pre-dawn hours. I remember watching the tuna fleet head out from Eden in southeast Australia years ago. We were sailing up to Sydney for the start of the Hobart race, smashed some rigging, and pulled into Eden for repairs. Anyone who thinks that tuna boats run on diesel fuel oil has got it wrong – the Eden fleet runs on beer, bunkered prior to sailing. Just about every crewman from the fleet was in the pub, and it was insane. Six or eight people at the bar on stools – or they were on stools until a guy strolled along, throwing them backwards in turn, drinks and all. This signalled the publican to appear with his Alsatian dog, barking its head off, to clear the bar. The unfortunate dog was on the receiving end of a couple of jugs of beer, reducing it to a whimpering wreck, particularly when the jugs followed the contents. The publican called ”Last Drinks”, and the fleet sailed.

The Chioggia fleet departed in a more sedate fashion, or maybe it’s the difference between early morning and late night – I like being around morning people, there’s always a sense of quiet. Maybe that’s why they exercise thoroughbred horses in the early hours. So the Chioggia early morning routine is a coffee and maybe a grappa or two to hold off the chill, stroll across the waterfront, let go fore and aft, and head out.

The whole main street of Chioggia is given over to a street market on Thursdays. Mostly clothing, but kitchen utensils, shoes, shopping trolleys, coffee makers, some cheese and sausages, and it is huge. It gives the lie to the oft-held opinion the “Italy is hopelessly organised”. The stalls were all in pre-ordained positions, and most comprised vans with huge, electrically erected, awnings. Park van, use remote control to open and erect awning – I’ve never seen them before. A little aqua alta to promote the sale of rubber boots, but nothing much to speak of. From end to end, the market must be about 500 metres, and there must be some sort of circuit that the market traders follow, from town to town.

There’s the fishing boat canal through Chioggia, and another that runs parallel, the one that features in photos. If you go there right now and expect to see it, you may be disappointed – the lagoon end has been filled in for 100 metres, and there is major work being done to restore the canal. It will be pretty special once it is completed, and there are other works being done there as well. There may be a euro crisis, but these public works still continue, and they are quite something. The hoardings around the construction works are fun – blown up photos from the 1930’s, showing sailing boats in the canal. A few years ago, there was a big stink in Melbourne when the city authorities imported a team of Italian masons to lay stone in Carlton. Melbourne’s apology for Little Italy – “what, don’t we have any decent masons?” (I have it on good authority that a second hand concrete batching plant has been converted in Carlton to make Bolognese sauce. In bulk – it is that bad.) The masons on the job at Chioggia are doing fine work, and it is something I notice all over the place – the care, what one may call love, that goes into so much work here.

The canal runs beside the fish market, a slightly smaller of the Venice market, with dozens of three wheeled motor trucks pulled up close by, with little refrigerated boxes on the back. I’ve been looking all over for razor clams, which we love, and have not seen them yet – maybe they are not in season, or the tide is not right for digging them. But there’s every other sort of marine vertebrate and invertebrate on sale. Including eel. Wich I do not love.

Back across the lagoon this morning, per ferry and bus. No rain, but a heavy mist, fishing huts appearing and vaporising, slight view of the Mose works at the entrances, dodge a Panamanian container ship at the Malomocco entrance, with the ship being in ballast. If it was at full draft, it may well have emulated Pepin’s fleet that was grounded near Malomocco in AD 809.

And to close on two nautical themes, or at least a nautical and a water theme, after all Venice is all about water. The water theme - Guiseppe, who represents the American owner of our apartment, just called by to kindly tell me that the tide tomorrow will be 135 cm at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and that’s the highest yet this year. That will have the sirens wailing at about 5:30 AM.

And the nautical note. There were a couple of naval officers in my favourite bar this evening. They were in full dress, epaulettes, shoes polished to within an inch of their lives, short naval daggers on golden chains, and they put on their long boat cloaks as they left. Talk about cute!

I tell you, if those young ladies served in the Australian Navy, our recruitment problems would disappear tomorrow.

enjoying your on-the-spot report!

Loved reading this info...I'm a foodie...throw in venetian restaurants that are a must. cannot wait!!! You are really making this so exciting for future visitors...thank you!!!

Wonderful to read that you are back.

Re the mention of the Venice in Winter article in the NYT, did anyone also see the mention of Watermark by Joseph Brodsky? A prose-poem about Venice. The NYT writer really raved about it. This is all unknown territory for me and I have it on order from Amazon. Anyone read it? Any comments?

<i>Liberty!
Fraternity!
Equality!
Dump the Austrians!
Oh stuff it; lets just make it “Gondola”. Everyone knows that.
OK, sounds like a plan.</i>
:-))

Too funny, Peter!!!

I am absolutely loving your report and taking notes for my next visit. I love Venice, anyway, but seeing it through your eyes is a quite different (yet, lovely) trip! Grazie!!

Looking forward to more.

Friday morning, sirens at 5:00 AM, four tones, do, re, mi, fa, meaning the aqua will be, well, alta. As it was, at 8:30 when I headed out, rubber booted. Eight inches of water in our foyer, but the washing machine is well elevated, two inches of water in the local bar, the Ai Artisti, chairs on the tables, but otherwise business as usual, cappuccino e’ brioche, 2.10 euro, which is the same price as it was two years ago. Campo San Barnaba with about six inches of water in it, and the people at the hairdressers all wearing their rubber boots.

Water in the bakery, but the ovens are above the waterline, so baking continues. Sump pumps churning, mostly pumping the water around in a circle, and deliveries not happening too easily, as boats can’t get under the bridges. It’s funny, you don’t hear any conversation about aqua alta, nobody is saying “Well, it’s pretty alta today” – it’s all just part of Venetian life. Closer to San Marco, it must be tricky, as it is lower there – and a few inches makes all the difference, whether the water stays below the Plimsoll line on your boots and you have dry feet – or you founder. A lot of people have thigh length waders, stand around the campo and read the local paper.

I thought the naval officers were men until you mentioned "young ladies." We found the female carabiniere officers in Florence to be equally gorgeously attired, with flowing waist length hair. British police and military personnel seem to follow different dress codes altogether!

There are some excellent photos of the aqua alta in The Telegraph online today.

lot of people have thigh length waders, stand around the campo and read the local paper.>>

sounds like a look that might catch on.

I bought some very cheap and fetching boots for DD when I was in Venice a few years ago. she's been complaining that they have worn out - excuse for another trip?

I sloshed around Venice in my stylish €15 knee high boots last weekend. Rather fun actually.

The Italian government, like that of the UK, is cutting funding for education, and the local students are not amused. Street demonstrations planned for Rome on the 15th December, and placards advertising the demonstrations are appearing in Venice. We are near a couple of the campuses of the University Foscari, and so we’ve seen a few preliminary rallies. If these are training rallies for the Rome event, then Rome will be pretty tame. Essential equipment for Venice rallies seems to be a packet of smokes, rubber boots, an iPod and a tray of spritzes to go, esporto per favore, in plastic cups.

I took a stroll through the Ghetto yesterday, and it’s pretty quiet. The kiosk was attended by the regulation two guards, and the main hazard for those guys would seem to be boredom. They were keeping themselves amused by playing cards, the aqua alta having reduced the crowds. It’s funny seeing Kosher gelato on sale, and the sign indicating that one does not break the Sabbath by waving one’s hand in front of the press button to open the door to the community centre.

The group of signs, the apology to the Jewish population of Venice and the names of the Venetian Jews who were sent to their deaths in railroad cars can still move me.

Hi Peter,

Enjoying your trip along with you. Keep your feet dry and keep writing!

gruezi

Dear Used To Be Our Master and Mistress

We have captured your house sitter, and she is safe for the time being.

Leave 4 tins of sardines and a can opener in a brown paper bag .. we'll tell you where the drop off point is when we work out how to phone you.

Oh, and leave 1 million euro, in used notes, also.

Signed: The Cats

PS Don't call the police.

YvonneT - you are too funny.

Exquisite, Peter.

DH and I too found the marble curtains to be mouth-dropping.

Good luck with the gatti...

Hi Peter,
I will be staying at 2878A (first floor), Calle Lunga San Barnaba in the Spring and would love to hear your thoughts on the apartment.

I suppose that when you return to a place, you can have the expectation that things will be the same, and certainly the geography of Venice is pretty static. In 2009, I had written, “Two years ago we were here, bought paper products from Legatoria Polliero, and forgot both the name and location of the shop. Paolo, a gentleman of about 70, has been making paper products seemingly forever, and by the look of his shop, his great great grandfather occupied the same premises, probably refusing service to Austrian invaders. There’s still no service as such, and Paolo gets on with his business while you browse his shop. You can stand in a corner and watch a volume being bound in leather, marbled end papers being applied, and the cut leaves being polished with graphite and an agate rubbing stone. It is very special to watch a master craftsman in action.

And then connection is made, and he is the most lovely person imaginable, the apparent mask of indifference hiding a person of great courtesy. I picked up a photo of him with his grandson, and he explained that while he has no English, his son has some, and his grandson, now eight years old, is fluent, like a bird, “e somigliare il uccello”. I envy his grandson, being bi-lingual. As we made purchases, he was at pains to explain “non fabbrica, artisan”, and he cut the wrapping paper on a guillotine. The fine objects that he makes and sells are certainly not factory produced, and he’s an artisan. Shopping like that is more than buying stuff – there’s a little relationship being started as well. ”

We returned today, and I sighted a card recording his death. He died in January of this year, and so a tiny connection for us has been lost. He was born in 1930, and so would have gone through some pretty tough times in post-war Italy, and was aged just eighty when he died.

We will miss him. The expectation that things won’t change is unrealistic after all.

Retired lady, my email address for now is venice dot two dot ten at gmail dot com.

Happy to take the conversation about this apartment off line, as they say .

Cheers

Peter

That was a poignant story about Paolo. I'm glad you had the opportunity to meet this artisan and gentleman.

My map lists some 56 churches in Venice, not including Murano, Burano and Torcello, and if you buy a Chorus Pass, you can have admission to seventeen of them for 12 or 13 euro. Otherwise it is 3 euro per, which can be a bit off putting. The map that comes with the Chorus Pass is one of the best maps of Venice in terms of finding the popular tourist sites, it’s a new publication and very easy to read. Besides the churches, all 56 of them, it shows places of interest like the Ghetto, and shows the vaporetto stops. It’s not so good for navigation – you’d need a street finder for that.

The most easterly church is San Giobbe, near the site of the former municipal abattoir, the most westerly San Pietro di Castello, not far from the football ground, home ground for Venice’s team, which sadly enjoys little success. And about a quarter of the way from abattoir to football ground is the Church of San Polo. The church is pretty dim, and when inside you can see people put their noses in, and decide that they’ll maybe spend their three euro on a coffee and brioche rather than yet another church. In the church proper, there is an OK Tiepolo the elder, and after that the usual group of dark oils showing various saints having a rough time of it.

The treasure of San Polo is in the sacristy. There is a Stations of the Cross, the story told in fourteen frames, almost like a documentary. This group of paintings did not find favour when Tiepolo the Younger painted it around 1750, and I think that the style would have cut across the conventional view of the crucifixion. Tiepolo painted no calm, placid, self-sacrificing demi-god, there’s no Father, Son and Holy Ghost in evidence here. We have a tortured, agonised man, being done to death for upsetting the Roman order of things, threatening the status quo, that “Render unto Caesar” phrase would certainly have threatened the taxation revenue, and overturning the tables of the money changers would knock a hole in synagogue revenue. Those moneychangers paid for the table concessions, were licensed, and entitled to make a buck on the exchange.

That Tiepolo painting, that first Station, sets the scene of what is to come, and outlines the way the narrative will be told. And so asking the mob, “What should we do, what’s a fit punishment” was always going to have the mob baying for blood, “yeah, let’s have a crucifixion, haven’t seen one for weeks”. Nobody was going to suggest a period of home detention, an ASBO, or a fine. And no magistrate was going to lose favour by asking the mob – every election campaign, 2000 years later, still brings up law and order as a issue. “Let’s get tough on Crime!” I’ve read an account of the municipal authorities of a fourteenth century Italian town paying for the right to disembowel, hang, draw and quarter a criminal from a nearby town. Getting tough on crime has a long history.

So there is no “gentle Jesus, meek and mild” portrayed in these Stations. It is all a very human story; I think not the way the people who commissioned the work expected the story to be told. They were not expecting a political statement to hang in the church, and so the paintings languished, unhung, for decades. The same goes for the ascent to Heaven. Mostly one see a most serene portrayal, Jesus ascending, maybe standing on some sort of little cloud, a bunch of angels in attendance, being drawn up to the light. Not in Tiepolo’s version. He has Jesus literally jumping towards the heavens, ascending completely under his own steam, a most athletic Jesus.

So the San Polo church may not be for everyone, but the Tiepolo works make it pretty special for me.

Peter - another hidden treasure uncovered. I'm marking it down for my next trip.

So sad about your friend Paolo - is the business being carried on by his family?

Ann, I'm pretty sure that the family is still running the business - I think that the woman who served me may have been Paolo's daughter. She looked about the right age. The shop is right beside the Frari.

Peter - thanks for telling me that.

I think I know roughly where it is as I got a lovely print of Venice from a nearby artshop, that now hangs proudly above our mantelpiece. it was very reasonable - in fact the frame cost more than the print. it always surprises me how reasonanly priced the handmade things often are.

now to find an opportunity to get back there.

Bloodshed in Venice – an on-going habit.

Of the first twenty five Doges, four abdicated, one became a saint, four were deposed, one was exiled, one was killed in a battle with pirates, three were judicially blinded, three were murdered and one, Doge Martin Faliero, was executed for treason. He was advised, per messenger, “You are condemned to have your head cut off within the hour”. He was duly beheaded, and I believe that his head was displayed between the pair of pink marble columns on the upper colonnade facing the piazzetta, as such was the way of things.

Severed heads are now not often displayed, but the bloodshed continues. Tourists, for some reason, like feeding pigeons in the piazza. The pigeons are slow moving, being full of bread and corn. Atlantic gulls are fast moving, mostly carnivorous, disdaining corn, and are not so often seen in the piazza. Except for this morning, when one seized a pigeon, carrying it over Florians, and killing and devouring the unfortunate bird.

Now, that will give Yoko and Izumi an interesting story and some happy snaps to show the folks back in Tokyo.

Yep, the bloodshed continues.

Hi Peter! I am really enjoying your posts. We will be in Venice on the 22nd - 25th. Just yesterday I printed and put for packing your scavenger hunt - can't wait to do it with my girls!

If you see us - mom, dad and 2 girls (13 and 8) wandering around with your hunt printed out - say hello!

The gondoliers are having a pretty thin time of it at the moment – when it is raining, and about 3 degrees Celsius, there’s not a lot of patronage. The romantic ride is not so romantic when the teeth are chattering. Gondoliers take it in turn to man the traghetti that will carry you across the Grand Canal for the princely sum of 50 cents, and yesterday morning we got lucky – our traghetto was “manned” by Venice’s only female gondoliera. I believe that she is German by birth, certainly of a Nordic rather than Mediterranean appearance, and fought pretty hard to obtain her ticket.

Steam powered ferries, vaporetto, first made an appearance in Venice in 1881, much to the alarm of the city’s gondoliers, who promptly took strike action. They have survived, and on Guidecca, off the Rio della Croce, there is a ex voto, erected by the Guidecca ferry oarsmen, thanking the Holy Mother for her kindness in ensuring that they were not entirely ruined by the steamers. I don’t know whether the piano accordionists that one hears on the Grand Canal, serenading a squadron of gondolas, contributed to the ex voto.

Peter, I read about the gondoliera [gondolieressa?] somewhere. What I have read suggests that it is generally a family affair, passed from father to son, so for any outsider, let alone a woman, to break into it is pretty special.

thank you for mentioning the ex voto - another land mark to add to my list of new things to see enxt time.

Unless Alexandra Hai has passed her gondoliera exam, you were rowed by Giorgia Boscolo (Italian, I believe). The German lady is employed by one of the hotels in a private capacity, so she does not have to have passed the exam.

Ann, I hope you have better luck finding the ex-voto than I did. If you succeed, let me know.

Peter- I'm really enjoying your report and the style in which you right it. Such interesting information. I'm definitely going to hit San Polo on my next trip. The Stations sound fascinating. thanks again for sharing with us!

grr..."write" it.

bert - if/when i next visit Venice, I'll be sure to try to find it, and inform you straight away!

We’ve just spent a couple of days in Rome. The usual chaotic traffic conditions, that would deter me from even thinking about driving there – but the Romans seem to do it well enough. Just about every car – the exceptions being the BMW’s with EU number plates, blacked out windows and police escorts – has minor dings and panel damage. It’s odd – in Australia, the smallest scrape on the car requires repair, but in Rome they don’t seem to matter. We took Lou’s mother to the airport, and there was a most helpful man, assisting people with getting their luggage onto the train. He had a jacket with “Crew” on the back, so obviously was some sort of official – or not. After helping many, he meandered through the carriage, receiving payment. Not a bad way of doing business, help people and then lay a little guilt trip on them.

We strolled along the Tiber, and it took all of about two minutes for a guy to ask us for directions. He was quite well dressed, in a good, panel-damage free, car, and he wanted directions to the Vatican. He asked us where we were from, said he knew Melbourne well, had stayed in the Sofitel in Collins street, worked in textiles, for Armani. He even had a catalogue of Armani products on the front seat. We were able to direct him – the dome of St Peter’s being in full view – and he was most grateful. He even offered us some sample jackets, which he said that he did not need, but we declined, as we were travelling very light. Such a well-mannered, kind man! I can’t understand how people complain about the shysters and rip-off merchants in Rome.

Campo Fiore for a coffee, and to watch the street market in action, a cappuccino securing table rent for nearly an hour. I had scored a free Fodors guide for Rome, from being quoted in their Italy book, and one piece of advice took my eye as we read it in the sun, a money saving tip. “Order your coffee or drinks from the bar before you sit down. Take your coffee, whatever, with you to the table, then return the cup or glass afterwards. That way you’ll be charged the much cheaper al-banco price that the locals pay.” I thought that this was advice that only the brave would follow, assuming that al-banco meant “ordered, consumed and paid for at the bar”, but I must have got it wrong. When I write my “Guide to travelling in the USA”, I’m going to advise that tipping is a quaint local custom that visitors can ignore, that it’s acceptable to pack up a hearty lunch for yourself from the breakfast buffet, and that you can ask for a doggie bag at an “all you can eat” place.

We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in Rome. I’m not really a B&B kind of guy – sharing “What are you planning to do today” across the breakfast table is not really me. So the Best Pantheon B&B was very good. It’s tiny – I think four rooms, and there is no common space. Well located, across the road from the Area Sacra, the old forum, and the Largo di Torre Argentina, cab rank and bus station close by, short walk to the Piazza Navona, an 8 euro cab ride from Termini. Maybe the only drawback might be that there is nobody in attendance after 1:00 PM, so you need to make arrangements if you are arriving after then. Breakfast is good – the full Italian thing, plus the option of eggs, delivered exactly on time. I’ll recommend it - http://www.venere.com/bandb/rome/ban...9,20101212,2,1

We’ve been to Rome a couple of times, maybe half a dozen days in total, and never really appreciated Rome. I suppose that it’s easy to concentrate on the big ticket sights, the Forum, Palatine, Aventine, Colloseo, Trevi fountain, Vatican, Spanish steps, and we’d never really got a handle on the geography of Rome, the seven hills and all. From Trastevere, we walked up the Via Garabaldi, and I suppose became acquainted with Italian, as against, Roman history.

The church of Santa Maria in Trastevere stands at the top of the hill. I’d never known much of the history of Italian unification, never realised that the Papacy was a military power in the 1850’s. And I suppose, while I’ve seen a lot of monuments to Garibaldi, how significant he was in Italian history. I think that all nations have their sacred, special places. For Americans, maybe it is Bull Run, or Gettysburg, for the British it is Dunkirk or Agincourt, for we Australians, it is the Gallipoli peninsular or Kokoda. Places that have somehow burned themselves into the national psyche, places of heroism. The top of Trastevere is maybe the same place for Italians, Garibaldi leading a doomed defence against French forces, mobilised to support the papacy. I’ve never walked across a battlefield before, and the church of Santa Maria was pretty well shelled by French forces – the remains of the defenders are buried in the mausoleum on top of that hill. It’s the equivalent of our Melbourne Shrine, for Sydneysiders, the Cenotaph, for Americans, Arlington. At the very top of the hill, there is a monument to Garibaldi. It is presently being refurbished, along with statues of others who were important in the campaign that created the Italy that we know out of a bunch if disparate states.

It made me think a bit, and to be not proud of my ignorance.

Loving this...

We got lucky in Rome – a couple of days of sun, after almost three weeks of rain in Venice, and took a long walk around the Boboli gardens, watched ducks and kids learning to row on the ornamental lake. In Australia, the contour interval on maps is 25 metres, in Venice a contour map would need intervals of less than 25 centimetres to be useful, and so it was a good change to have hills to walk up. And when you walk around any of the remnants of the old walls to Rome, you can get a good idea of why they are shaped as they are. Just about every part of the walls can be protected, with a clear line of fire from adjacent parts of the walls. Those Roman engineers certainly knew a thing or two about pouring arrow fire on siege machines.

We ate at Le Tamerici, near the Trevi fountain. The food there is pretty good – radicchio stuffed with blue cheese and potato, house made pasta with seafood, sliced beef served on raw spinach, and a good salad. We shared each course in turn, and appreciated that they separated the portions in the kitchen before serving. The tab, with wine, cover and service came to about 100 euro, which is about what we would expect to pay for the same meal in Australia, and we are finding this often. Even after converting currency, with the Australian dollar buying about 0.72 euros, the costs of food and lodging is about the same as in Aus. Some things – coffee al banco, are really cheap – never much more than one euro, and wine is cheap too. A spritz costs two euro, a hazard, as they are seriously alcoholic.

Back in Venice, the weather is cold and sunny – about 3 or 4 deg C, no rain, and so the skins of endangered animals are out in force on the streets. It’s funny, being in a line at the supermarket behind a woman wearing a 10,000-euro fur, who is arguing about a ten-cent discount. Maybe it is the collation of all those little discounts that procured the fur.

The student population of Venice is revolting. Well, perhaps not revolting, as they seem a pretty equable bunch, but there’s the whiff of revolution in the air. I think it is about funding for education, and so several hundred students stormed the Rialto Bridge, Venetian style. The demonstrators were equipped with banners, and a ghetto blaster the size of a fridge belting out reggae music. They paused on the centre steps on the San Polo side for some great photo opportunities, while leaving the side steps free for pedestrians and tourists – after all, this is Venice, and one does not aggravate the difficulties for tourists. The tourist euro, dollar, yuan, yen, pound, rouble or shekel must not be constrained.

They were confronted by a squad of at least eight riot police, also equipped Venetian style – plastic shield, a bored look and a fresh packet of smokes in case the whole show dragged on for too long. The demonstrators avoided the little lane where they sell plastic gondolas, plastic campaniles made in the PRC and AC Milan football shirts, and congregated in Campo San Giacomo di Rialto while one of their number mounted the statue of Gobbo. The reggae was silenced, the crowd was harangued, and as the bars opened, people headed off for a coffee or spritz. Overall, a most Venetian affair, no chairs thrown through windows or police being thumped. There’s a big student population here, but everyone runs into everyone else sooner or later, so one had better not misbehave.

It is presently being refurbished, along with statues of others who were important in the campaign that created the Italy that we know out of a bunch if disparate states.
_________________________
The idea that Baltimore could be at war with Washington, DC as an example of a city-state has always intrigued me. It puts into perspective the regionalism and maybe explains the weird signage-if you aren't a stranger, you shouldn't be lost!

Have you mentioned the scuoli in another report? I can't remember-sorry.

Still an exquisite report!

Enjoying your writing very much again, Peter - thank you so much. Helps keep me going while I wait to go back ! Lots of interesting info and insights as always.

I too love the Stations of the Cross in the church of San Polo.

It feels great having Venice bus passes. doesn't it ? For weeks after we got home last time I kept getting them out and admiring them :-) We don't even have Edinburgh bus passes !

This is just fabulous. Now I'm so sorry I'll have only about 48 hours in Venice and not enough time to do every thing Peter's done.

I especially love the description of artisan Paolo and his shop. Would you be so kind to give the name of it? This is exactly the sort of place I'd tell my DH to come looking for me in 2 hours as I'd putter about looking at everything...

Caroline, those bus passes are about the best souvenir you could take from Venice – a sense of ownership of Venice, and along with that, a sense of being owned by Venice, a requirement that one returns, to use up those unexpired trips.

There is a shroud of snow in the courtyard here, a snowy beard on the wellhead. It does look pretty magical.


Hiker Chick, Lagatoria Poliero – is in the Campo dei Frari in San Polo. You enter the church through a side door, into the trancept. Just before you enter the church, if you look left, you’ll see the shop. There’s lots of lovely things there – even on our third or fourth visit, we’ve found things we coud not resist buying. Lou keeps her water colour tubes in a box from there, I keep my loose change in a round box. Worth a visit, and a little off the general tourist trail. And the Frari is pretty special too – look for the bomb mounted on the wall, just to the right of the tomb held up by the four dark gentlemen. That tomb re-defines the concept of grotesque!