Sidetrack Central
It was not the church bells that woke us from our slumber this morning, it was the doorbell. The friendly garbage collector, with his hand-drawn cart in tow, knocks on the door or rings the bell of every house in the street, eager to collect their rubbish, bright and early EVERY day! Not a bad service. We hadn’t really generated enough rubbish yet to warrant a daily collection so, following the instructions in our handy house manual, we didn’t open the door, which did feel a bit rude, and he just moved on to the next house. Our apartment looks directly across at another block and there’s a whole little community that exists up here, freshly woken residents opening up their shutters in the morning with a rub of the eyes, a gentle nod and a warm “buongiorno”. Everyone can see into everyone’s place and there are kids playing, Nonnas sweeping and women hanging out their washing on the squeaky pulley-lines that stretch across the street, from our block to theirs. One lady was shaking out her rug out over the street this morning, simultaneously having a lovely chat with a guy who was busy watering his window box geraniums. It’s so quiet with absolutely no cars on the island and if we listen carefully we can just hear the faint swooshing of boats splashing up and down the canals.
Molly was meeting her uni class for an all-day look at the Biennale so we squeezed in some brunch at the Greenhouse Cafe, situated in the gentrified maritime neighbourhood of Castello, before she left for the day. As its name suggests, the cafe is set inside a great big greenhouse looking out over gorgeous gardens and parklands. By chance, some of the uni crew came to the same cafe so Molly joined them and I headed off solo to do some exploring.
Venice is absolutely AMAZING! I just love it. I had a great FaceTime with my Venice-loving friend Linda, who talked me though what to see and do today. I set off in the general direction of St Mark’s Square, or Piazza San Marco (which sounds way better in Italian; so much more romantic). The closer I got to the Square, the more crowded it was getting so I decided to do what they say to do in all the travel guides - get lost. Now I generally don’t need an invitation to get lost, it comes naturally, but what a place to get lost in! You could say I really immersed myself in the art of going round in circles (or squares). The myriad of little alleyways and laneways provided the perfect setting for not having a clue where I was, and for venturing a little off the beaten path. It’s a meanderers paradise. If I’d been tracking my steps on one of those apps that shows you where you’ve walked, it would have looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. I kept turning up at the same bridges and landmarks, but each time, seeing them from a different angle or vantage point. Even the Venetians would admit, a lot of their streets and bridges do look extremely similar. The modern day equivalent of dropping breadcrumbs, Molly ‘dropped a pin’ in the map so I’d be able to eventually find my way home (not without the help of Siri, who finds the Italian street names as hard to pronounce as I do).
Because the Biennale is on here right now, Venice is alive with art. There is a total of 213 artists from 58 different countries exhibiting their work this year and apart from the main galleries with paid entry, there are small, free galleries (pavilions) scattered down random alleyways all over town. It’s like a treasure hunt trying to find them. I stumbled on a few today (some, many times) and it was so much fun going in and checking out all the concepts and art on show. Many are national pavilions, showcasing artists from one particular country, and others are dedicated to the work of specific artists. Like most modern, conceptual art, there were some really out-there ideas and displays, like the sculpture made of daggy old cast-off bras - the ones you wear till the elastic does that cracking sound when you stretch it. I did love the African sculptures made from egg cartons, though Molly informed me later that the lamp I liked the most was actually a giant model of a vagina. The room filled with silver, stuffed, deformed and hybrid animals hanging from the ceiling like meat in a butcher shop was interesting (if not a bit creepy) and the Ukrainian black and white film installation that showed a man making milk into butter with a big stick in a pot, in real time, was pretty weird but strangely engaging, not to mention educational. It really does take a lot of effort and will definitely make me appreciate my buttered toast a whole lot more in the morning. Entering the dark pavilion through double layers of black curtains with the beckoning white arrows, was so mysterious and intriguing, I had to go in. Mostly though it was because it was a nice relief from the heat of the day. The most exciting part of the film was when he got a phone call, his big stick in the pot not slowing down one bit while he chatted. If only I spoke Ukrainian.
It was surprising to see so many designer shops down near the square, their crumbling, colourful facades with layers of peeling paint and mismatched bricks, giving them more character than usual. Couriers were hurrying through the streets with big, box-laden trolleys, calling out “ATTENZIONE!!” , parting the crowds Moses-style as they delivered their loads. Talk about hot work.
Piazza San Marco is stunning - no wonder it’s one of the world’s most famous squares. It is surrounded by ornate historical buildings - Palazzo Ducale, also known as the Doge’s Palace (though I didn’t see any dogs at all) up one side and the huge Basilica with statues aplenty, on the other. Standing tall above the square is the imposing 99 metre high campanile tower, which was originally a lighthouse, with foundations dating back to the 9th century! It has had many incarnations, the current one built in 1902, a replica of the 16th century tower that collapsed due to shoddy workmanship (gee it was only standing for 4 centuries, not sure it was still under warranty). A young guy, also on his own, asked me to take a photo of him in front of the tower. I happily obliged and then asked if he’d do the same for me. Then another couple of solo travellers joined in and soon we had a queue of happy tourists all taking photos of one another.
Kids were swirling around the square, dropping crumbs for the pigeons, while the outdoor restaurants were buzzing with hot and hungry patrons. A guy was seated at a grand piano on the terrace, belting out some elevator-worthy classics for the masses to enjoy. There are giant concrete wells all over Venice, from where Venetians once hauled their water. They no longer serve that purpose though and are just pretty reminders of the past. Keeping the tradition alive, there are water fountains in most streets that run continuously, where you can fill your drink bottle or take a swig for refreshment. So nice.
Tonight, we took advantage of the kitchen facilities and Molly whipped us up a delicious pesto pasta with freshly grated pecorino cheese and after dinner we wandered down the street for a sunset gelato, feeling very Italian indeed. Buona Notte.
