24th June 2000 Driving the Brenta Canal to Venice
Trip Start
Apr 27, 2000
1
59
81
Trip End
Aug 09, 2000
Venice,
Italy
Thursday, June 26, 2003
We had originally planned to leave the car at the Villa in Barbarano, and taxi to Vincenza station to travel to Venice. We thought to revise the plan, when we thought we could take a boat down the Brenta canal to Venice. Taxis were going to cost about L50,000 each way, and we were now rather keen to see the Villas along the Brenta canal. We compromised, when we discovered that the mouth of the Brenta canal, at Fusina, has a major car park, and a ferry service to Venice.
We left Barbarano at around 10.00 am, and had a rather leisurely drive to Padua, ducking around the south side, negotiating our way through industrial suburbs, very affluent garden/villa suburbs, and various autostrada, we made it out the eastern side of town and went in search of a canal. Stopped for brunch, where we gave a delightful waitress a kangaroo pin, which made her day.
I had figured from looking at various maps, that the road that runs along the south side of the Brenta, and literaly runs beside it for most of the way, would give us a better view of the major Villas that are on the northern bank. That proved to be correct, although, as we later drove back from Venice along the northern bank, I would advise anyone who wants to enjoy the Brenta to drive both banks. On the way down we passed all these wonderful villas. Dozens are well and truly faded and not regarded as worth preserving, while others, such as the famous Malcontenta are stunning. The highlight however, turned out to be stopping for half an hour to watch a tourist boat enter one of the locks, and on departing when lowered down to the next level, a working boat towing a gigantic steel pontoon/container, enter the lock to be raised up to the next level. The length of the Brenta is pretty little villages, villas, and willow and tree-lined.
At Fusina we paid a L15,000 deposit on our L170,000 weekly parking fee. Ouch!!! Left the car, and headed for the ferry. All around the loading pontoons, were lawns and walls and pathways, and these were covered with sunbathers. Not the lawns, which were dead anyway, but the paths and walls. Talk about uncomfortable. More importantly, off in all directions was the lagoon, with Venice in the distance, and a row of huge power lines running up the middle of the lagoon. On the boat, we also realised that in attempting to maintain her economic position, they have created an awful eyesore in the industrial complexes along the southern mainland. Nevermind, when you are in and on Venice, you cant see them, and Venice is the Venice of legends, history and dreams.
We had packed most of our luggage in the boot of the car, and took in just one suitcase and a carry bag. Thank God. The boat was pretty well loaded, so we stood on deck with our case, and watched Venice come in to view, Magic! We docked at Zattere, which is in the Dorsoduro district. From here it turned out to be an easy walk down the street to the Acadamia Bridge. Then it got hard. Try lugging a 35 kg case up and over a wooden bridge, which is steps all the way, and covered in tourists powering their way through rolls of film. From the other side it was again an easy walk through Campo Santo Stefano, a short street, and then Campo Sant Angelo, and our apartment. As it turned out, it was probably the best way to come in. From the station, we would have had to battle crowds on the Vaporetto, and then drag our bags through narrow streets and for a long way from any of the other vaporetto stops (unless we already knew that the Acadamia Bridge stop was handy). I seem to remember that we had always planned on arriving at St Marks, and walking from there. That would have been a disaster.
I had phoned Jacapo (pronounced Yakapo, as if I care what the bastard wants to call himself) several days earlier, to obtain the exact address, and arrange to get a key to the appartment. He was away in Austria, but had left the key at the restaurant in the Campo (that's Venetian for Piazza).
10th July 2000
Our apartment building is an ancient pallazo that features in the Walking Venice Guidebook. It is said to be one of the few palazzo actually facing the land rather than a canal, and therefore the fascade is easy to see and admire. Primarily white stone, with pink used around the "piano" floor windows and arches, and the door ofset to one side. The "piano" floor, is usually either the second or third floor of a building, and are the floors on which the main living rooms were built-ballrooms, dining rooms etc. We were delighted when we entered out apartment. A very large loungeroom with dining table, and antique furniture. The bathroom was tiled in "lush" burgundy tiles with the heavy beams exposed on the ceiling, and the bedroom large with built in robes etc. As the days past, we were less happy. The restaurant set up outdoor tables in the piazza, too close to our bedroom windows. Closing the windows cut out most of the noise, but that;s not how we like to sleep. The kitchen had two electric rings only and the bare minimum pans and pots etc. A real challenge to cook in a tight alcove with the bare minimum equipment. Not even a teatowel. The light blew in the kitchen alcove on the first day. As the week progressed, there were days when the smell of "sewage"-although we aren't certain exactly sure what it was, became realy uncomfortable. When Jacopo finaly apeared on the Monday afternoon, his only concern was that I pay him another L400,000 for the weeks rent. He claimed that the L1,000,000 I had sent wasn't correct, and that it was based on US dollars etc, etc. He was to call again on the Tuesday to collect the money, fix the light and provide a teatowel. He eventually came to the apartment later than the time we had agreed (by which time we had given up and gone out again), let himself into the apartment in out absence, took the money, and left a note saying he would see us on the Friday night. We never heard from or saw him again. I am beginning to think that the Venetians are the New Yorker's of Italy. With the exception of the people in the non-touristico areas, most people where pretty abrupt and busineslike, and not much interested in anyone.
We unpacked, and went for a strole up to St Marks. It was still a very walm afternoon/evening, so we sat on the promenade, and watched the passing parade for a few hours. The helpfulness of the Venetians realy came to the fore, as we decided to do our supermarketo shopping on the way back to our apartment. We asked at the tourist information office, and she sent us off to a supermarketo near Campo san Luca. We walked up Calle dei Fabbri, which is lined with great shops, including an extensve Alimentari and a bread shop. Decided that no, we would wait for the Supermarketo. Found it eventually, but it had been closed down and relocated-no forwarding address. We asked at the shop next door. She sent us off toward the Rialto. It wasn't where she said. Next person said go 200 metres that way, turn right and two streets down. No it wasn't. After an hour, and five different sets of directions, I was realy angry. Talk about the ugly tourist!!! Why bother asking a Venetan anything? They don't know, and they don't care. I figured I could wander aimlessly, and have as good a chance as anyone of stumbling upon a supermarketo, and probably a better chance than following a Venetians instructions. We stumbled upon it in Salizzada San Lio. It apears after the event, that this caters for tourists rather than locals. Probably explains why they don't realy know or care where it is, and they aren't goint to tell you where the locals shop. Everything was realy expensive, so we just bought the basics, and decided to try the alimentary later, for anything else. Apart from anything else, there is only so much you can cart by hand, the kilometre home through hordes or window shopping tourists.
We knocked up simple dinner, and had an early night in preparation for a big Sunday.
