Once Upon a Time in Venice.

Once Upon a Time in Venice.

January 2008.

It is still a bit of a head scratcher when I think about how little I’ve seen of Italy. Somehow, I never got round to sorting out that long, cross-country adventure I dreamt of in my early 20s. In fact, I even messed up the opportunity to go and live there. It was the autumn of 2004 and I was on the verge of putting pen to paper on an English teaching contract for a school in the city of Brindisi. However, it just wasn’t meant to be, a life chapter that I have detailed in my short stories Car Crash Girl Part I and Car Crash Girl Part II.

Happily, I did manage to sort out a brief visit to Europe’s old boot in January 2008. Based in Brussels at the time, I took a short flight to Venice for a wintry weekend in Europe’s famous floating city. With only three days at my disposal, I knew I had a lot to pack in. Thus I wasted no time in my guesthouse room, opting to head straight out into the highly atmospheric foggy Venice morning. My first stop was the city’s iconic Piazza San Marco (St Mark’s Square), a dramatic space that Napoleon once called “the drawing room of Europe”. 

Once Upon a Time in Venice.

The square was magnificent that day, despite the grey sky and hanging mist. On and off, shards of sunlight flickered across its expanse, dancing off the stupendous 15th century renaissance buildings. Much to my delight, there weren’t that many people around. Just hundreds of pigeons, who greedily gobbled up the seeds I bought from a nearby vendor. These days it’s illegal to feed the square’s birds. And if you’re caught, fines range from an irritating 60 Euros to a whopping 600 Euros!

Before coming, I had excitedly watched the classic 1973 horror movie Don’t Look Now, starring Donald Sutherland. Shot on location across Venice, it is a film packed with moody and mysterious angles of the city in winter mode. That morning, as I toured the square, it felt as if I’d been dropped into a scene. Not least with the sight of St Mark’s Basilica and its spooky, fog-engulfed western facade.

Dating back to the 9th century, this is Venice’s jaw-dropping centrepiece. Indeed there is nothing that scaffolding and fog can do to diminish its beauty. Here, within a niched portal above the main entrance, sits one of numerous mosaics depicting the Ascension of Jesus Christ.

According to historians, the mosaic was most likely brought over to Venice after the Sack of Constantinople in 1204. It is part of a huge collection of relics known, among other names, as the Byzantine Treasures.

St Mark’s Basilica.

Other decorations to the facade arrived later, in the 17th and 18th centuries, such as this dramatic cast iron sculptural gate. It stands at the foot of the bell tower, Campanile di San Marco. 

Elsewhere, there are carvings galore, including angels, cherubs, serpents, priests and a host of saints and prophets. Wherever one looks, you are never too far from a winged lion. These creatures represent none other than Saint Mark himself, while a golden lion is the symbol of Venice.

Inside the basilica, they have a strict no photography policy. So hardcore, it turned out, that even crafty me couldn’t carry out my usual trickery. Which was a pity, as this has got to be one of the most breathtaking churches I have ever seen. I hardly knew where to look, from its soaring domes and giant bronze horses, to gleaming walls of Syrian marble. Oh, and Pala d’Ora, a stunning gold altarpiece fitted with sapphires, pearls, rubies and emeralds.

Photo courtesy of amberapparently.

It wasn’t until I got to the viewing balcony that I could get my camera out for a few shots over St Mark’s Square. This provided me with excellent angles of The Procuratie, a series of connected 16th century structures built by the procurators of Saint Mark. Important Venetian government noblemen basically. Employed as offices, meeting halls and even swanky apartments, the buildings, with their High Renaissance stone arches, fast became synonymous with the city’s wealth and splendour.

Once Upon a Time in Venice.

Furthermore, how about the adjoining St. Mark’s Clock? Its installation took place in the late 1490s by the famed Italian clockmakers Gian Paolo and Gian Carlo Rainieri. This concentric-ring astronomical clock was a revelation of its time, featuring the relative positions of five planets and a carousel with a trumpet-blowing angel. James Bond fans may recall 007 sending a villain smashing through the clock’s face in Moonraker. Fear not, the clock in the film was merely a stunt double.

Back down at ground level, I spent some time admiring The Procuratie’s stone arches close up. They are incredibly photogenic, especially when paired with one of the square’s pretty, pink-glassed Venetian lanterns. There are fifty three of these street lamps in total and at night they bathe the piazza in a cosy pink glow.

From St. Mark’s Square I embarked on a walking route that would take me past some of Venice’s most cherished canals and bridges. Some of the streets were utterly gorgeous, with rows of flaky homes set on pinewood piles planted into the clay lagoon bed.

Before too long, I found myself passing the iconic Bridge of Sighs (Ponte dei Sospiri). Built in 1600, it served as a link from the Ducal Palace to the city prison. Local authorities would march convicted criminals from the courtroom to their cells, a route which took them over the bridge.

As legend has it, locals would hear the criminals moaning, groaning and sighing as they went, hence the nickname. Many years later I would see a bridge of the same name in the English city of Cambridge. Inspired, they say, by Venice’s famous structure. 

The Bridge of Sighs.

The city’s most spectacular stretch of water lies in The Grand Canal, which forms a snaking, four-kilometre S shape through the city’s central districts. Most of the buildings here date from the 12th to 15th centuries and belonged to Venetian nobility. They were so luxurious people called them palazzi (palaces) and families devoted much of their time to outdoing their neighbours. Today just a handful are private residences, most are hotels, museums and public/private offices.  

The Grand Canal is of course tourist central. Historically, the summertime saw these waters stuffed with visitors gliding back and forth on private gondola tours. Luckily for me it was the off-season, so things were pretty relaxed.

Tempted, I found myself asking a few gondoliers for a quote. All I wanted was an hour or so, but I found the costs bandied around absolutely ludicrous. None more so than for a so-called luxury gondola (80-100 Euros for 40 minutes) which was bigger, shinier and more comfortable than your average boat.

Having given up on a gondola ride, I made my way to Rialto Bridge, the oldest of four beautiful bridges spanning The Grand Canal. Built between 1588-1591, this was the first structure to allow pedestrians to cross the canal in the heart of Venice’s commercial and financial hub. The celebrated Venetian architect Antonio da Ponte designed the bridge, which features a carved relief of guess who… Saint Mark.

Rialto Bridge.

Rialto Bridge is nearly always busy. What’s more, it feels like the entire city flocks here to grab their Venice sunset photos. In fact, it can get so horribly crowded local authorities have enforced a number of strict rules in order to try and reduce the chaos.

For example, it is illegal to drink alcohol on the bridge. Should you loiter too long, hogging a prime viewing spot, a policeman may ask you to move on. Finally, and I’m not even kidding here, they introduced a rule explicitly forbidding the use of portable stoves on the bridge. That’s exactly what a pair of idiotic German tourists did so that they could make themselves some hot coffee. They were subsequently fined 950 Euros and asked to leave Venice.

Seeing Venice’s iconic sights was great. But I think my favourite part of the trip was simply getting away from it all in some of the residential streets away from the canals. Here, I was able to leave virtually everyone behind and just breathe in the quietness. And fully enjoy the charming old buildings with their shuttered windows and hanging plants.

There were some wonderfully quaint letterboxes along the way. Most came with engraved names such as Moretti… Gianelli… Esposito. One of my favourites was this robot letterbox where the family’s names had been written onto the eyebrows.

Once Upon a Time in Venice.

This was also the Venice that most reminded me of Don’t Look Now. For an hour or so I felt a bit like Donald Sutherland, roaming the streets looking for the elusive childlike figure in the red coat. Creepy but fun, for a weird horror fan like me at least. In any case my wanderings produced no sinister sights, unless you count this fluffy black cat and her somewhat demonic eyes. She was actually really friendly.

Most of the streets were utterly empty. Every now and then though, I passed an elderly woman quietly going about her business. We exchanged polite nods and my heart skipped a beat. This was the Venice I had come to see, just as much if not more than the bridges and the gondolas.

One of the prettiest squares was Campo Bandiera e Moro, which has a coffee-roasting shop, a bakery, a traditional restaurant and a small church. Once again I could only marvel at how perfectly peaceful it was. That not even handful of the tourists I’d seen earlier could find their way here. 

From the square I began piecing a route back to the commercial centre. A string of narrow streets and leafy squares came and went. In one of them, I stopped to browse a tiny second hand book market. The owner was asleep on a rickety wooden chair, his cat seemingly looking after things for him.

Once Upon a Time in Venice.

There were scattering of small stores open for business, but not receiving much attention. A hole-in-the-wall newsagents and a shop selling a huge variety of cheeses. In one arts and crafts store the owner had just finished tidying up the place and was now busy behind the counter making tea.

There was also a fabulous Venetian mask store. Which reminded me that the city’s famous carnival was about to kick off, just a day or two after my flight back to Brussels.

Back on St Mark’s Square, carnival preparations were in full swing. There were security barriers up and a network of scaffolding as a team of workers hurried around setting up a stage.

Before leaving the city, I thought what the heck and made my way back to Rialto Bridge for sunset. I had been running a little late but, despite the busyness, managed to squeeze myself into a free space and grab a shot before the sun slipped out of view.

Sunset from Rialto Bridge.

On my final evening I retraced my steps back to one of those quiet squares and wiled away a few hours with pizza, beer and some reading. Overall, I’d been disappointed by the food scene in Venice. For the most part meals had been hastily prepared and waiters were keen to rush you out of your seat before you’d even swallowed your last mouthful. But happily Pizzeria Ai Sportivi bucked the trend, inspiring me to honour it with a photo.

Venice has changed a lot I hear. Local authorities have gotten stricter with tourists, accommodation costs have spiralled and a there’s proposed fee for day entry in the works. Nevertheless, I would  be open to going back one day. Though I suspect I should rather, at long last, do that cross-country trip I promised myself all those years ago.

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