At 00:38, Greenwich Mean Time, 22 December 2010 we observed the Winter solstice. Well, I did not exactly observe it, as I was in bed. I think that being in Europe, experiencing cold, gives a new view of the solstice. The big celebrations, Stonehenge et al, occur at the Summer solstice, but it’s the Winter solstice that counts. If you’ve made it to the Winter solstice, not been too extravagant with the food that you’ve dried, smoked, or preserved, the cheese you made when the cattle were in milk, not burned too much of the firewood or peat that you’ve stacked and seasoned, than you’ve got a chance of seeing Summer. We went to Billa for smoked prosciutto instead, and figure that we also have a good chance of seeing Summer.

But even having the chance to see a little more sun is welcome.

We’re noticing Venice filling up with people. I remember as a child having one of those pre-Christmas, Advent cards with little windows, and if you were really disciplined, you would open a window a day, and see a little surprise. The four storey apartment block two gardens away is like that card, and at night we can see how it is filling up, shutters opened, more lights on, activity, children. It’s fun, a way of being connected in a small way to life here. I suppose it’s also proof of just how much of Venice is not occupied, apartments being bought by industrialists from Milan or merchant bankers from the City or Wall Street, all pushing up prices and de-populating Venice. I guess that we’re doing the same, we’re amongst the guilty.

Getting lost. If I had even just a single euro for every person I’ve seen in the last few days consulting a map and looking frustrated, I’d be able to buy No. 1 tomorrow. We’ve sat in bars and watched people try to navigate with an A4 page showing all of Venice, printed from Google maps. We’ve seen people ask for directions, and giving directions is a hopeless task. “Sempre diretto” is the most commonly heard direction, “straight on”. You can’t tell someone “20 yards down the calle, cross the bridge to your right, take the second sottoportego, cross the bridge, and take the fondamenta just in front of you. Turn right at the church, and it should be on your left”. A couple of nights ago, we saw the same couple, dragging their bags, pass us five or six time. Should one offer assistance? – assistance being useless unless one walks with them to their destination. Nope, we ordered another spritz.

But this got me to thinking. People will pay for guided tours, and I think that people would pay for a guide service. When arriving in Venice, the sight you really want to see is not San Marco or the Ducal Palace. The sight you really want to see is the front door of your hotel, apartment or B&B. Some of those lost souls would gladly hand over 20 euro, I’m sure, to see the sign of their hotel. It needs minimal equipment – a jacket with “Official Street Finder” on it - like the guy in Rome with the jacket saying “Crew” who extracted a euro from me for lifting a bag onto the train to the airport, very nicely done. A cell phone, and a decent map of Venice, maybe a Google maps enabled laptop for the tricky ones (like can you show me where 2741 Castello is – I don’t have a calle or fondamenta reference) and we’re in business. If Fodors did not prohibit advertising, I’d do it. I’d even do it for free – it would be fun. Call this number when you are on the steps of the Ferrovia S. Lucia, and away we go. Satisfaction maximised, aqua alta avoided, bridges minimised.


Guaranteed. Sort of.

That sounds like a great business idea! In fact, if you find yourself in Santa Croce on Christmas morning, I'll be the redhead dragging my bag past you with a map in my hand and a lost look on my face as we look for our hotel. But I figure that getting lost in Venice is much better than getting lost in Atlanta any day of the year.

Looking forward to your Bologna.

Happy Holidays!

Maestrette,where are you staying in Santa Croce? Happy to help.

We are staying at the Hotel Canal Grande in Campo San Simeon. One of the reasons I picked it was because it seems quite easy to locate. I'll save the wandering around the city lost for when I am not carrying luggage.

masestrette,

I've found Streetwise maps to be very good, very detailed. The Venice one worked quite well for most locations.

I've wandered a lot in Venice on two different trips. I only got really lost once. Trying to find one of the scuolo art sights. I did give up as I had a flight to catch.

Buon viaggio!

And happy holidays Peter! Great live reporting.

If you start a business with a name starting with an “i”, then Apple will take you to court – witness the fate of the Australian website that advised the places where alcohol could be bought cheaply – iGrog.com.au, which has now closed down after pressure from iApple, and I’m waiting for Apple to start pruning those tourist information offices, identified with a lower case “i”.

Same thing happened in Venice, a while ago. There’s a pharmacy in Cannaregio called “Alle Due Collone”, the Two Columns. Doubtless the proprietors were perturbed when a pharmacy of the same name opened in Campo San Polo – no franchise deal, no partnership agreement, no nothing. The sort of situation that would have Apple phoning their lawyers.

Legal action followed, and the San Polo establishment was forced to change its name – to “Alla Colonna e mezza” – A column and a half. The change is reflected in the stone tablet outside the pharmacy, which used to show two columns. Half of one column has been excised, as required by an ordinance of 1586. I suppose that in 1586, miracle cures like teriaca were sold at the Column and a half, now more modern miracles are promised – “reduces the signs of visible ageing”, “a lovelier complexion in fourteen days”, “moisturisation”, etc. Who says the days of miracles have passed!

Another miracle, quite a modern one. There’s a statue of Garibaldi at the end of Via ditto, in the gardens. The more interesting statue, though, is that of Giuseppe Zolli, who is at the base of Garibaldi’s statue, facing the down the gardens, while Garibaldi faces his Via. Giuseppe is the guy with cap, scarf (undoubtedly red), rifle slung, and quite a kind face. In 1921, the ghost of Giuseppe Zolli appeared and cause alarums, and even injuries. He’d been born in 1838, a follower of Garibaldi, and had promised Garibaldi that he would protect him, even after death. True to his word, after he died in 1921, he haunted Garibaldi’s statue. Ghosts in public gardens are a problem, driving away clients for flower sellers and ice-cream vendors, frightening horses and children. Zolli’s ghost has not made reappearance since the bronze statue of him was erected, guarding Garibaldi’s back.

Voila, problem solved. The truth not to everyone? – well, I don’t know. But that’s what the book says. And Zolli looks like the kind of man who would keep a promise.

Peter, I am enjoying your writing very much... thank you. If you again happen upon:
"an artist up the way in Calle Lunga, who combines vintage fabrics, Morris and Fortuny, photography and paint to crate interesting works"
I'd love his/her name.
Merry Christmas from rainy Vancouver,
Linda

Hi Linda,
The artist is Kim Hart,

website is http://www.kimhart.co.uk/

We like Van too, even if it rains.

Cheers

Peter

You can get lucky, and today luck smiled on us.

First piece of luck – a clear, sunny day, little wind, no aqua alta, the sun rising while the half moon was still in the sky.

Second piece of luck – discovering, or rather being pointed in the direction of – the garden behind the Palazzo Soranzo Cappello in Santa Croce, on Rio Marin / Fondamenta Rio Marin. It’s not all that far from the Ferrovia, over the Grand Canal. The Palazzo was built in the seventeenth century, and you can walk in through the front door, and straight out into the garden – the building is now used as offices by a government body. There is a set of statues of Julius Caesar plus eleven Roman emperors, an orchard, and pavilion with statues. The garden is laid out pretty much as it was when the Palazzo was built, and is quite romantic, a little overgrown. It is mentioned in Henry James’ “The Aspern Papers”. There are lots of gardens in Venice, mostly behind high walls, and it was fun to see one from the inside. It’s big – about 150 metres long, 80 metres wide.

You can just stroll in.

We walked back to Dorsoduro via the Ponte San Casiano, and looked up the canal at the blue boat moored there. People who have seen Francesco Da Mosto’s DVD series about Venice or his books, would recognise his boat. They would also recognise Francesco – as we did today, as we saw him load himself, his kids plus a few of their friends on board, and head off towards the Grand Canal. A cheery wave from the man, with his shock of grey hair. I guess celebrity means that people recognise you, and want to say Ciao to you – as we did.

Glad the acqua alta stayed away long enough for you to report of this interesting secret garden. Goggle turned up this description of some secret gardens in Venice.

http://geniuslocivenezia.blogspot.co...alendario.html

how interesting Peter. I love finding these sorts of places when I'm travelling, though I'm not always very good at it, as i get a bit bored. DH is much better at pursuing the smaller highways and byways, not always with success - you should see some of the places we have ended up! a particularly rough area of Barcelona springs to mind, not to mention the red light distict in Chania. fortunately there's not much chance of that in Venice.

ellenm - thanks for the link. I came across a link to a tour of private gardens in venice, but we have never been there at the right time of year. perhaps I'll have more success next time.

I purchased a lovely frame today from the shop you mentioned next the to the Frari Church. What a wonderful craftsman! I loved watching the gentleman work while we browsed his small shop.

Bologna.
I was probably a bit unfair in my comments about Dubai, the Freudian “Mine’s bigger than yours” style of architecture, because Bologna started the whole thing with building towers, big towers, Freudian towers. I saw an engraving in Bologna that showed about fifty towers, but now there’s only one intact tower, plus another tower that has developed a list to starboard of about four metres, so has been shortened to avoid collapse. I suppose that erectile dysfunction can even strike brick towers, and Sigmund would sympathise.

Bologna is a serious health hazard. Rome is hazardous because of the insane traffic, but Bologna is a hazard to health because of the food.



Food, glorious food!
Eat right through the menu.
Just loosen your belt
Two inches and then you
Work up a new appetite.
Etc, with apologies to ”Oliver”


Yep, there’s food to be had in Bologna, and we escaped with just slightly raised cholesterol levels. Food shops on every corner, and it’s good.

We stayed at the Abergo delle Drapperie. I’ll give the web address, because we liked it. www.albergodrapperie.com, and it is on a small street, Via Drapperie, very close to the Piazza Maggiore. Right next is a big building that seems to have combined a love of books with a love of food – it’s called “Eatily”. Via Drapperie is in part of the old Medieval market area, and that area still has lots of small food shops, a couple of fishmongers outside our door, vegetable vendors, a horse butcher, sausage, cheese, ham, tortellini, pastries, the full diet that would have your GP shaking his head and prescribing suitable medication. Yet Bolognese people do not appear overweight – a miracle that should invite sainthood for someone.

We visited the Basilica San Petronio, which has a brick façade, as the funds were never found to complete the marble works. The museum in the church is worth taking the time to visit – it has a couple of models of how the church was meant to look, both different, probably submitted as part of the architectural competition when it was either first constructed (1390) or for renovations (17th Century). Two other things that fascinated this engineer – a Foucault pendulum, demonstrating that the earth actually rotates (being able to see evidence of rotation is quite something) and a Zodiacal sundial, some 67 metres long, created by the astronomer Domenico Cassini in 1665, which traces the meridian line through the church. The axis of the nave, for those astronomically interested, points approximately NNE by E. The noon sun shines through a tiny window in the apse, illuminating the meridian line. Dominico’s instrument, that he used to trace the line, is in the museum.
The church of San Stafano is really a cluster of churches and temples, with cloister attached, a religious campus. One cannot escape the feeling of antiquity – it dates from the eighth century, with 11th and 12th century cloisters.

We liked the statue of Neptune in the Piazza Maggiore, and liked it even more once we understood what it was all about. In 1563, Giambologna wanted to make a statement about the power of the Pope. It won’t work if you use a statue of the current Pope, because when he dies, then it becomes a bit meaningless, just another statue. But allow Neptune, ruler of the waves, as the pope rules the land, and it will work. Place cherubs at Neptune’s feet, representing the big rivers of the continents known at that time – the Ganges, Nile, Amazon and the Danube – and this assumes a degree of geographic knowledge on the part of the Bolognese people.
Lou wondered what the meaning might be of the four neo-mermaids at the base of the statue, gushing water. Were they maybe meant to indicate the fecundity of the oceans surrounding the continents, or of the continents themselves? We don’t know, but the mermaids were certainly most generous, expressing water from appropriate orrificii.

Piazza Maggiore will be interesting on New Years Eve. There’s a stage, set up for rock music, properly braced mosh pit, lights, the full catastrophe. The fountain has been fenced. And a giant, soon-to-be- bonfired rooster was being erected. I’m talking of a fowl about fifteen metres high, with a weeks collection of cardboard, straw and other combustibles making up the form, the whole edifice supported on a metal armature, with aluminium crown. Kentucky Fried Chicken Bolognese is going to happen, and what a sight it will be. We need a web cam!

When you order a coffee in Bologna, they serve a small glass of soda water with it. That’s a new one for us.

We had a meal at Ristorante Teresina, Via Oberdan, 4. It was good. Fish entrée, tagletelle Bolognese, wine, coperto et al, and 50 euro. The place was packed, our order was lost somewhere between dining room and kitchen, and I liked the way they handled it. The maitre d’ put a couple of pieces of cheese on a plate, with a little confit, I think maybe a confit of persimmon, and had the waiter deliver it to us. Sort of an unspoken acknowledgement that they’d caused us to wait a little, and very deftly handled. A great meal, and we’d go there again when we next visit Bologna.

I’d read somewhere I think on Fodors – about Giorgio Morandi, a Bolognese artist. I’d thought that Morandi had spent about 30 years painting still lifes of the same set of five bottles, and thought that, as we had an hour to kill, we’d look at his collected works, for a laugh, a joke. Anyone who can do that has to be a bit of a joke, right?

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the collected works of a single artist displayed so well, showing the development of his art, his way of viewing the world, almost a view inside his brain. It’s great. I’m pretty ignorant in art terms, uneducated. And so it was a complete revelation for me to be able to witness how someone changed over the course of about four decades. Pretty special, and so I consider myself lucky to have seen that exhibition.

My grandfather was a minor artist – more accurately described as a painter rather than artist, and I have a number of his etchings. My grandfather made etchings almost as though he was drawing, pencil sketches on a copper plate. Morandi’s etchings are geometric, the density created by hatching, cross hatching, and multiple hatching, to create light and shade. The way that straight lines can become three dimensional is something that I don’t understand, but Morandi certainly understood.

Having that hour to kill was amazing luck!

Peter, thank you for that link to Kim Hart. Very much like her Venetian stuff, and your continuing report.
Cheers,
Linda
In sunny and cold'ish Vancouver

And, thank you for the mention of Foucalt's pendulum, which sent me scampering to do a Google search. Is this the one you saw?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEk2jAoCu8U

Happy New Year.

From HOT and windy melbourne.

Yvonne, that's the one that we saw.

Next scientific adventure, now that we know the world rotates, is to prove that it is round.

Cheers

Peter (about 4 degrees here!)

This a real time report from your correspondent in Venice, safe behind well sandbagged windows.

The sound of explosions can be heard, a street battle of sorts, munitions provided by the Mini Mart in Campo Margerita, where the shelves have been stripped bare of explosives. The firing seems to be concentrated on Fondamenta Gherardini, west of the Ponte Pugni – surely a fitting retribution for those grumpy green grocers, with the flashes from the explosions lighting up most of the south face of the campanile of the Carmini, which may be serving as an artillery observation post. I think I can see the wires from the field telegraph strung down the face of the campanile from the O.P. Or maybe it’s just the lightning rod.

The heavy ordinance is answered with the rattle of small arms fire coming, I think, from the south of Calle Lunga San Barnaba, single shot sniper fire, and occasionally repeating firearms, the occasional shotgun blast. I expect the battle to move east as the evening progresses, to the Piazza, where a concert themed on “Love” is to be held. With reasonable good fortune, it will sound like the closing parts of 1812.

Bang.

Crash.

It may sound threatening, but Venice is ramping up for Capo d’Anno.

Continuing to follow you (I'm a sort of stalker!) We're going back in 2012.

Happy New Year from 'ere, Pete and Lou!

New Year’s Day – Venice 2011.

We went to the Piazza for a look at the New Years Eve celebration put on by the Commune d’ Venezia, had a gelato, and ran away. I can’t believe that a shouting disk jockey, every second word being “allora”, with exhortations to kiss somebody, is the best that Venice can provide. No live music, too stage managed, people saying happy things while reading them from a script. The patrons of Florians, drinking tea, looked somewhat bored. I understand that the disk jockey is a leading radio personality in Italy; in which case, he must owe his job to having the dirt on Berlusconi, maybe some raunchy photographs of the PM. So we decamped to Campo Margerita, where the local civil war was continuing.

It could have been Dublin, the Rising, Easter, 1916, Patrick Pearse leading the defence. The boys manning the mortar battery on the steps of the Scuole Grande d’ Carmini kept up a sustained barrage, despite cracker attack from the lads at the Ex Scuole dei Varoteri, and Madigan’s bar coming under small arms fire from the crew at the adjacent pizzeria. The staff at Madigans are to be commended, Daniel Manin would have been proud of them, for the way that they continued to serve spritzes despite the odd grenade rolling in the door, fizzers and whiz-bangs exploding behind the bar. All the while the bar maid maintaining a conversation on her mobile phone, pouring spritzes one handed.

The cost of spritzes doubled at midnight, maybe a reflection that it was a holiday, maybe a surcharge for the fact that glasses were unlikely to make it back into the bar, or maybe it was an ammunition levy. Hostilities became one-sided when the pizzeria pulled down the shutters, and Madigan’s ammo was exhausted. The smell of powder drifting across the campo, the occasional “whoomph” of H.E. in the distance.

The combatants settled their differences after running out of crackers, but not running out of alcohol, by singing revolutionary songs, a guy on harmonica, and a couple of blokes on acoustic. Revolutionary songs like “Blue suede shoes”, “Twist-a and shout-a”, “Happy Birthday”, “Jail-a House-a Rock”.

A most good-natured bunch of people, I wish them all, I wish everyone, Buon Anno and Augeri. New Years Day is pretty quiet, a lot of shutters not yet opened, even at 1:30 PM.