It's Sunday morning in Venice. Rose Ann, Phil & Carole are exploring a museum and I'm sitting quietly alone in the Venetian flat owned by the Gilbertson's university colleague from Stockton. I needed some down time, and it feels good to be here listening to the sounds of Venice. It's pretty quiet right now. During the weekday we hear lots of commercial boat traffic because this residence is located mere feet from a small canal that offers easy access for delivery people to park and unload their wares for the many small businesses in the neighborhood. I can hear church bells, a neighbor's radio, the lapping of small waves against the canal's boundary. Occasionally a gondolier navigates this canal and must be describing the neighborhood to his customers. The sun is shining brightly through the big windows on the tiny deck of our bedroom.
Since we arrived Wednesday morning the weather has been as close to perfect as imaginable. The temperature hovers around 70 during the day, and except for some occasional haze the sun is always shining. The nights are cool enough to snuggle under several blankets. Not a drop of rain yet. Venice is obviously filled with water, churches, and history. It's old, has been grand (still is to us), but according to the books it's decaying. Global warming raises the water level, and time wears away the structures of the city built centuries ago. Venice's origins date back to the 9th century when Romans fled from the barbarians seeking safety, and with careful planning the city was engineered around the waters of the Adriatic Sea and Po River. The city's main thoroughfare is the Grand Canal, and we can see it just a block from where we live. Gondolas, vaporettos, small boats and large, even cruise ships ride the waves to explore the area. There are islands surrounding Venice, and we have briefly explored three of them--Murano (full of glass factories), Burano (lace capital of Italy), and Torcello (home to only 20 people plus an amazing cathedral filled with mosaics).
The home we are in might be called a walkup flat. It's on the second floor of a three story building, and Phil's friend's mother lived here many years until her recent death. It's a two bedroom unit with a long hallway, and a living room, dining room, kitchen, laundry room, and two bathrooms also exit off the hallway. It's sunny and bright with many windows and filled with books and pictures. Her pictures of dogs and cats are heartwarming. The living room gets minimal use from us. We're either out in the city, sleeping, eating, or planning our next day's itinerary. There are no cars in Venice, so we walk from the house to get to a boat. The boat-busses are called vaporettos, and we are located between two vaporetto stops. We walk through a maze of dead-end alleys and major walkways. Some are barely three feet wide between three story buildings. Others are broad open campolos, usually a huge square in front of a neighborhood church. Business districts feature separate shops for bread, gelato (one of Italy's greatest contributions to the world of ice cream), clothing, and restaurants--many of the open air variety. Did you know about carneval in Italy? I didn't. Like New Orleans and Mardi Gras, the Italians--especially the Venetians--celebrate carneval beginning shortly after Christmas until Lent. They love to wear masks, so there are mask shops all around. The masks are made of cloth, plastic, plaster of paris, even glass.
The Rick Steves books serve us well, and even though the Gilbertsons arrived only a few days before us they serve as guides. Phil reads and studies, and he has a great sense of direction. We've walked miles and relived centuries of the city's history. This afternoon we'll see the palace established by the early doges who ruled the city-state of Venice. Then we'll travel to an outlying church that is hosting a Norwegian choir. On Friday night we went to an outdoor restaurant right on the canal in a beautiful location. Phil had called to reserve a table for 4 at 8:00 p.m., but our day's travels had extended longer than we planned allowing us no time to get back to our residence to rest and cleanup for dinner. So we showed up at 7:00, hungry and tired but an hour early. Phil approached the man who looked in charge of seating and began to ask if a table might be available early. We were shocked at his response. Evidently he saw our Rick Steves book and said in Italian accented English--"You must be Philippi Gilberti, and you have come here because Rick Steves recommended me. My name is in your book, and your table is ready for you right now." Thus began a wonderful evening with great food.
Venice is a great place to be if you appreciate history, church, beauty, and great food. And it helps to be in the company of great friends.
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