Ah writing in html, sometimes the lovely interface on wordpress takes me for a run. The last couple posts I made I had to, gasp, actually, gasp, edit, gasp, my own work because their spell check function wasn’t working. Even today I found a handful of syntax errors I needed to correct.
Anyway, back to Venice. There is about a zillion different churches in Italy, yeah that’s right a zillion. In the photos below there is one called the Chiesa de Salute Maria. They built it in tribute/pledge/joy to the Virgin Mary in thanks when the plague of 1629 finally ended. This was a mighty plague: “over two years it killed nearly a third of the population. In the city 46,000 people died whilst in the lagoons the number was far higher, some 94,000.” (wiki). Honestly I think it has its social merits too, rather than let the survivors mop around and mourn for too long they put them to work building a giant monument focusing on hope and thanks.
Quick sidestep about my citations. Part of me likes to learn and part of me likes to let people know that I’m not full of nonsense. I know using wikipedia as a reference is considered an academic travesty however, it’s easily accessible and not bad if you’re smart about it. By smart about I mean I check their references, a wiki article referencing a wiki article isn’t a good source. I found that most of the italian history articles are really well written and cited. So that said, if you don’t like my wiki referencing, to quote the great Dr. Cox from the show Scrubs “Well gees that’s just too bad now isn’t it princess?”.
Back to Venice, what did I love about Venice? What didn’t I love? Why should you go?
I loved the streets, especially in the morning before it was packed, strolling the streets and hearing its life without vehicle noise was really nice. I loved watching the difference between the tourist and the native. The native had things to do that morning, they walk with a purpose, and will occasionally make eye contact with you. In the morning the retired natives huddle around the newspaper stand speaking rapidly, in what I later found out to be Veneto, gesticulating in a way that north americans look at with appreciation or awe.
The travellers walk slower or with a different gait, they have backpacks, maps, thicker coats or no coat. I enjoyed looking at the different facial features, bone construction and body types of travellers. I like watching how they interact with each other and the space around them. I was beginning to get pretty good at guessing nationality before hearing them speak. Everywhere you go in Venice you hear italian, french, german, english, american accents and languages ripple through the air.
I loved the variation in the streets, some of them so narrow that you must wait for oncoming foot traffic to pass or quickly adjust your personal space bubble. I watched in amusement a gentlemen struggle with his stroller, sans baby, down a particularly narrow passage. He was a good sport about it, joking with his group about as he went.
I appreciated the sense of variety in civil design, while you’re wandering down a narrow little passage you’ll suddenly pop out into the sunlight in a campo or plazzo, a lovely open space. Campi/plazzi have some raised garden, shrubs and usually a monument or building. At times they have street entertainers or just people sitting on benches enjoying themselves. The variation kept Venice interesting and made it feel open and natural rather than crowded and closed.
There are a few things I didn’t enjoy so much, but every person is different. Venice is a window shoppers paradise, there are more stores than churches and they all sell something unique, something similar and something that catches your eye. After awhile though you start to get ‘stuff’ fatigue. You stop seeing individual items and everything starts to blur, as your brain becomes overstimulated by whirling colours and textures. You begin to think the next vendor who jumps out in front of you and tries to sell you a ‘dodad/trinket/whatnot’ is going to learn some new english words.
Venice is not a party town, it is a place to go for couple in love. Thankfully this happens to be my case but we also love music and were hoping to catch some local live hotspot. Enquiring at dinner we found out there is no such place in Venice! Can you imagine no live music? Anywhere! There is one or two irish pubs here and there but after 10pm your choices for entertainment are…..yeah. Arming ourselves with this information we just ‘saw the sites’ all day until our legs felt like lead, ate supper and went back to the hotel.
I found the employees to be a bit of a puzzle, and although it was not my first introduction to service in europe I was still surprised. I understand how Canadians get our reputation. When you go out for dinner or get a coffee in Canada we. are. nice. We are pleasant, warm, friendly and only too happy to do what we can for you. Service in italy is different; the exchange between employee and patron is more abrupt, especially at a caffe bar. At the restaurant it was like this also, to an extent that varies I imagine, from place to place. I was surprised at the disinterest and disdain in which the employees behave. Now before I get raging comments calling me names hear me out. In north america we work for tips in the service industry so when you go out somewhere you’re accustomed to, well, a certain amount of butt kissing. As a former service industry employee I know that being a good server is difficult because some people believe it is their divine right to have their butt kissed. I typically like to joke around with my servers, as my whole family does, and when I go to new places I like to learn about their culture. So I found the response from servers in Venice perplexing.
At the second restaurant I went to I tried to observe the interaction with european customers and european employees. European customers all but ignore their presence, they order and never break their conversation when the food is served, the drinks are poured etc. I understood more now at this point, servers in europe are shadows and play their role knowing they get paid regardless. Still its weird to go somewhere and ignore a person who is bringing your food, I can’t do it, I have to say ‘thank you’. Sometimes I’ll get a server to laugh a bit!
I loved the desserts there, gah there is dessert on every corner. Gelato I’m pretty sure was sent down from heaven as a gift to the italians for building so many pretty churches. Its soft, its creamy, and they have flavours I’ve never heard of and it’s almost always made daily, on site. Best part is, its made with milk instead of cream so you can enjoy it and not worry about your cholesterol. Mmmm gelato.
Next best thing? Crepes. I don’t care if they stole it from the french or if they invented it or whatever, fight on your own time and gimme a crepe. You can get them filled with sugar and Grand Marnier, no I’m not lying, or nutella or whatever. Naturally I like the Grand Marnier or nutella filled ones. At one place I managed to get an apple strudel, it was probably made to appease the germans. I swear to god it was the best strudel of my life. See? I could go on about the desserts and on and on.
I’m going to write about my absolute favourite part of Venice in the next post because it deserves it. The islands.
In the museum for Vivaldi I was overjoyed, I have saved my followers from having to scroll through the dozens of photos I took of each period instrument I saw. They had the old musical notation style, neumes, displayed in a case and the adaptations of lutes and guitars. Sigh, I salivated! I think because I saw this exhibit I was so excited when I saw the gentlemen playing the lute on the street.
This is a new way I’ve found of posting my photos and it much simpler! Just click on the photo below to enlarge it and you can scroll easily through my pictures.
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Santa Maria della Salute
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Dome of Santa Maria
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Santa Maria della Salute
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Boy with Frog by Charles Ray
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shoreline to the lagoon
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Entryway into the classical music hall
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inside the museum for Vivaldi
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unmaintained square we stumbled upon