Venice, Italy

• Johnelliott's Profile
• About this blog
• Entry from Venice

Trip Start Oct 03, 2008 Previous
Entry Trip End Nov 02, 2008 Next
Entry

  Venice, Veneto, Italy
Thursday, October 23, 2008

23 October - Dopo una sera magnifico complete ala musica classico en Piazza San Marco, il giorno oggi e molto bene! My mother was born Anne Gambino in Clintwood, Virginia. Her father, John (Giovanni) Gambino hailed from the town of Fontanarosa located in Avellino, Campania, Italy near Naples. Had I her maiden name, I would today be known as Giovanni (John) Gambino. Having studied some Italian twenty years ago, words and phrases return as I mingle and shop among the Venetians here along the ancient corridors of the former capitol of the Republic of Venice. A cool morning breeze refreshes this 15th century complex of islands that were once a major Mediterranean seat of power. Cobblestone passageways twist through an endless patchwork of tall crumbling buildings that fill every meter of this main island. A corresponding network of narrow canals backdrops the tall buildings providing maritime access for supplies by boat. Merchants along the main walking routes that connect popular spots like Rialto Bridge, Academia, and Piazza San Marco scurry to open their doors and setup displays of goods and wares. Behind the shops, flatboats laden with supplies are docked along the canals delivering barrels, boxes, cases and bottles to the vendors. Barges deliver and remove building materials in an endless effort to keep the cameras veccia from crumbling and sinking into the silt of the shallow seabed below. As the morning sun paints its warmth across a palette of crumbling plaster, the old world charm of Italy draws together a bustle of black clad locals and foreign language tourists. One canal widens to reveal a huge flotilla of empty, black painted, shiny gondolas. Here a local service cleans and redies them for their gondoliers who this evening will again ferry tourists through the quaint waterways for a sizable sum. There is a passion for life here that cannot be described or really even understood. It has to be felt, to be smelled, spoken, eaten, and shared. It begins at first light with the bustle of commerce and sightseeing and concludes with friends, food and music spilling out of ancient structures, squares and waterways.

This morning I went in search of something familiar and inexpensive for us to eat and sought some solace in this unfamiliar culture by heading for a supermarkado. Yet, no matter where the locals described one might be, I was fortunate to instead lose myself in the labyrinth of cobblestones and locals hurrying about. What we really wanted was fresh Italian pane, cheese and puttanesca which had so far proven illusive in this district of San Marco. But suddenly down a dark alley there she was; "Mamma Venezia" I shall call her. Old and round and as genuine Italian as you can imagine, she stood in the doorway of a shop filled with breads, cheeses, meats and condiments that typify Italian cuisine, at least for me. I let her suggest a couple of cheeses from among the several half cut wheels while I found a jar of puttanesca (tomato sauce) containing chopped olives and capers. Everything, including a freshly-baked pane baguette was weighed on a scale before paying with euros. Later Merrie and I walked together through this city of unique paradoxes and contrasts watching an old culture saturate the new generation. An absolute delight of Venice are the afternoon and evening "quartet wars" presented to patrons of the most fashionable restaurants lining Saint Marco's Square. Taking turns, each mini symphony upstages and outdoes the others in a Renaissance "battle of the bands." Mozart, Vivaldi, Schubert, and Brahms are all alive and with a passion. It's all good fun as a backdrop of the less wealthy rush behind them listening to each competing performance. Merrie and I sit on a low wooden scaffold that is used as a walkway for the Square during high tides. I have just arrived with a custom calzone (no pruscietto) from a pizza shop who supersized it and stuffed it with mushrooms, olives, red peppers and cheese before sliding it into a fired oven. We share it, sipping a local beer and affordably enjoying the concertos while seated just behind the rich. For all its old world charm, the reality of Venice can be seen only at a distance. From a high panorama we faced eastward and counted 78 spires, towers and duomos of a religion much older than the landscape before us. Now leaning, crumbling and sinking the buildings reflect a civilization that is likewise built on sand. Supposedly charming and hospitable, the city has not a single free chair for its travel weary visitors. The law forbids sitting anywhere except on chairs. Chairs are readily available, but only at expensive restaurants. And should you wish to beat the system, other posted laws forbid the eating or drinking of personal food in anywhere in public, where incidentally restaurants with chairs abound. Shops, hotels, street vendors and gondoliers rake in the dough at a high cost to themselves. Venice is a city of walking dead whose happiness, warm greetings, smiles, laughter and children do not appear to exist.

Post your own travel photos for friends and family Pictures

"Battle of the Bands"	Canal Scene	Catholic Duomos	Cheese!
Daneli	Let's Make a Deal	Quintet	Shopping for a Pashmina
Venice Boats	Venice Canal & Gondolas

Slideshow Print this entry Share Venice hotels

Previous Entry Next Entry