Ahh, Venice...! I think it's fitting that my first post in a looong while is dedicated to this startlingly beautiful city. You really can't fully imagine what it's like until you see it for yourself, the pl
ace is truly inspiring and makes you appreciate all the works spawned by the myriad artists who have spent time there.
(Check out the link at the bottom for more pictures)
We arrived at night on a Saturday. It's wintertime of course, so we missed out on a little of the ambience, but that means we also missed all the crowds and rampant tourism of summer. That's one thing that has really shaped and colours the year-round inhabitants of Venice, the tourism. You can't help but notice how jaded they are towards visitors, understandably so. I heard some figures bandied about, but in essence there's only something like 10% of population that are actually residents within the central part of the city itself. That being said, it's still a wonderful place and generally people aren't rude or obnoxious (had a much less pleasant experience in another city with loads of canals: Amsterdam).
St. Mark's Square was simply amazing, and as one astute observer recently pointed out to me, is one of those famous places that's actually as big as it seems in the photos. A lot of European squares seem really big in films and pictures, but when you actually get there in person you realise how much smaller the people were at one time (take the home of William Shakespeare, Stratford-Upon-Avon, for instance... some of the entrances to buildings literally came up to my neck!). But Piazza San Marco is really impressively big. It was recommended to us before we arrived to find a nice table someplace, sit back, have an expensive drink or two (tourist trap prices apply in and around the Square of course) and enjoy the symphony of competing musicians around the square. But unfortunately (as you might be able to see from the photos), it was too cold for that, and the square was mostly filled with camera-holding tourists and pigeons.
Well, the pigeons weren't holding anything but feathers. And poop.
We did have a couple of Bellinis at Harry's Bar, the place the drink was invented. It wasn't a transcendental experience, but enjoyable nonetheless. As for the trattorias (loosely translates as family restaurant, according to an Italian friend of mine), we ranged around and found some great, truly wonderful food. The picture at the top is the Ponte de Rialto, one of the prime picture spots along the Gand Canal that winds through the heart of Venice. Our hotel was not far away, upon an excellent recommendation by Waiyee's friend Sophie, and was just a short walk to the Rialto.
The streets are quite Byzantine, and I didn't realise quite how quaint (and bewildering) they can be. When we arrived by bus at the Palazzo Roma, I suggested we try walking across Venice to our hotel. Waiyee thoughtfully cautioned me that there may only be a circuitous route, and there are lots of blinds and doubling back where one finds the pathway ends in a canal with no bridge to the other side (or in fact, just buildings facing the water). We took the water bus, but as it was nighttime, we didn't really get to see the full grandeur until the next day.
Coincidentally, our trip coincided with my flatmates Steven and Justin, who were also celebrating a birthday that had recently passed. We got to hang out and do some sightseeing with them and on their last day, we took a boat out to Burano, a quaint little island just on the north eastern side of Venice. It was very brightly coloured and reminded us a lot of Portmeirion in Northern Wales with all the little buildings with their startlingly-coloured shutters thrown open, and replete with a curiously leaning tower reminiscent of the large one in St. Mark's Square. After lunch, where Steven charmed the aloof paisano to make two pizzas especially for us, we headed to Murano, a larger neighbouring island that's known for it's glass-blowing. It had all the hallmarks of the quintessential tourist trap, but still had quaint little canals in a mimickry of it's larger cousin Venice.
Monday was Waiyee's birthday and we celebrated it leisurely, climbing the tower and wandering around to our heart's content. We took a gondola ride and after hearing that these rides generally cost a small fortune, were surprised at how inexpensive it was... only costing me the equivalent of a month's salary in Pounds Sterling, converted to that US funny-money we Yanks like to use as legal tender. We enjoyed it, but within the first five minutes, a representative of an avian species decided, no doubt suffering from some sort of flu or general incontinence, to grace us with his presence from above. Luckily it only landed on a small bit of clothing and didn't ruin the experience. Waiyee snapped some choice shots of the gondolier in action while he rowed back to return our camera tripod, which I had cleverly secreted aboard his vessel before disembarking. Naturally, I couldn't have forgotten the stupid thing, only causing us a slight panic as we tried in vain to shout across the Grand Canal for him to come back. Well, perhaps that downpayment on the ocean liner I had initially paid him gave him pause long enough in closing up shop for the day to row back to us, or maybe it was simple good nature, but I suppose we'll never know.
Well, I think I'll leave the account for now, my brain grows weary at recounting nonsensical things, and anyway, there are plenty of pictures to sort through anyway. I have a backlog of posts that I'd like to get through, so please visit again soon, there's more to come.
Jon
ace is truly inspiring and makes you appreciate all the works spawned by the myriad artists who have spent time there.(Check out the link at the bottom for more pictures)
We arrived at night on a Saturday. It's wintertime of course, so we missed out on a little of the ambience, but that means we also missed all the crowds and rampant tourism of summer. That's one thing that has really shaped and colours the year-round inhabitants of Venice, the tourism. You can't help but notice how jaded they are towards visitors, understandably so. I heard some figures bandied about, but in essence there's only something like 10% of population that are actually residents within the central part of the city itself. That being said, it's still a wonderful place and generally people aren't rude or obnoxious (had a much less pleasant experience in another city with loads of canals: Amsterdam).
St. Mark's Square was simply amazing, and as one astute observer recently pointed out to me, is one of those famous places that's actually as big as it seems in the photos. A lot of European squares seem really big in films and pictures, but when you actually get there in person you realise how much smaller the people were at one time (take the home of William Shakespeare, Stratford-Upon-Avon, for instance... some of the entrances to buildings literally came up to my neck!). But Piazza San Marco is really impressively big. It was recommended to us before we arrived to find a nice table someplace, sit back, have an expensive drink or two (tourist trap prices apply in and around the Square of course) and enjoy the symphony of competing musicians around the square. But unfortunately (as you might be able to see from the photos), it was too cold for that, and the square was mostly filled with camera-holding tourists and pigeons.
Well, the pigeons weren't holding anything but feathers. And poop.
We did have a couple of Bellinis at Harry's Bar, the place the drink was invented. It wasn't a transcendental experience, but enjoyable nonetheless. As for the trattorias (loosely translates as family restaurant, according to an Italian friend of mine), we ranged around and found some great, truly wonderful food. The picture at the top is the Ponte de Rialto, one of the prime picture spots along the Gand Canal that winds through the heart of Venice. Our hotel was not far away, upon an excellent recommendation by Waiyee's friend Sophie, and was just a short walk to the Rialto.
The streets are quite Byzantine, and I didn't realise quite how quaint (and bewildering) they can be. When we arrived by bus at the Palazzo Roma, I suggested we try walking across Venice to our hotel. Waiyee thoughtfully cautioned me that there may only be a circuitous route, and there are lots of blinds and doubling back where one finds the pathway ends in a canal with no bridge to the other side (or in fact, just buildings facing the water). We took the water bus, but as it was nighttime, we didn't really get to see the full grandeur until the next day.
Coincidentally, our trip coincided with my flatmates Steven and Justin, who were also celebrating a birthday that had recently passed. We got to hang out and do some sightseeing with them and on their last day, we took a boat out to Burano, a quaint little island just on the north eastern side of Venice. It was very brightly coloured and reminded us a lot of Portmeirion in Northern Wales with all the little buildings with their startlingly-coloured shutters thrown open, and replete with a curiously leaning tower reminiscent of the large one in St. Mark's Square. After lunch, where Steven charmed the aloof paisano to make two pizzas especially for us, we headed to Murano, a larger neighbouring island that's known for it's glass-blowing. It had all the hallmarks of the quintessential tourist trap, but still had quaint little canals in a mimickry of it's larger cousin Venice.
Monday was Waiyee's birthday and we celebrated it leisurely, climbing the tower and wandering around to our heart's content. We took a gondola ride and after hearing that these rides generally cost a small fortune, were surprised at how inexpensive it was... only costing me the equivalent of a month's salary in Pounds Sterling, converted to that US funny-money we Yanks like to use as legal tender. We enjoyed it, but within the first five minutes, a representative of an avian species decided, no doubt suffering from some sort of flu or general incontinence, to grace us with his presence from above. Luckily it only landed on a small bit of clothing and didn't ruin the experience. Waiyee snapped some choice shots of the gondolier in action while he rowed back to return our camera tripod, which I had cleverly secreted aboard his vessel before disembarking. Naturally, I couldn't have forgotten the stupid thing, only causing us a slight panic as we tried in vain to shout across the Grand Canal for him to come back. Well, perhaps that downpayment on the ocean liner I had initially paid him gave him pause long enough in closing up shop for the day to row back to us, or maybe it was simple good nature, but I suppose we'll never know.
Well, I think I'll leave the account for now, my brain grows weary at recounting nonsensical things, and anyway, there are plenty of pictures to sort through anyway. I have a backlog of posts that I'd like to get through, so please visit again soon, there's more to come.
Jon
posted by JonSolo42 at 12:42 PM
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