I have no right to complain about the number of tourists in Venice. I am, after all, one of them. We moved to Bucks County 40 years ago when "rural" was an apt descriptor for our bucolic home. I wanted to be the last family allowed in. Any further suburban sprawl would mar the beauty of our little town while increasing traffic and displacing farmers. That was a pipe dream! I feel the same way about Venice. Let me in, but please keep all the other tourists away so I can enjoy the magnificence of the city on the water in peace. Honestly, compared to Venice, Florence is a ghost town.
Coincidentally, the night before we left for Venice, we watched our new favorite Neflix series, Somebody Feed Phil, (Thank you for the recommendation, JoAnn) and Phil was in Venice. Phil Rosenthal is Anthony Bourdain minus the cynicism. He is a "Nice Jewish Boy" who travels the world and reports on his experiences, most of which involve food. Unlike Bourdain, Phil is sweet and funny and overflowing with joie de vivre. And he Zooms with his fabulous parents at the end of each episode. We just love him! Anyway, he opened his Venice episode by lamenting the extraordinary number of tourists crowding the narrow streets. But he did say, "There is a good reason for all the tourism. Venice is gorgeous." And he is right. Tourists aside, Venice is majestic. Here are some photos to prove my point.
Yes, gorgeous! We arrived by train in the rain, but we didn't let a monsoon stop us from having a good time. We checked into our little (actually, tiny...9 rooms) Hotel right on the Grand Canal. The building was erected in 1387, and I think the wallpaper hasn't been changed since. Our room was musty and dark. The curtains were permanently closed. I can only imagine the view we had. And the bathroom was not designed for tall people. The place came with no amenities.
We adored it! How could we not when every member of the staff seemed to want to be your best friend? Everyone from the owner, Matteo, who greeted us at the private boat dock when we arrived, to the waiter, Alex, at the daily breakfast, seemed to want to make our stay as perfect as possible. They all called us by name, asked us about our day when we returned exhausted in the evening, and treated us as if we were family. Honestly, it was like staying at your grandmother's house. The warmth and friendliness more than compensated for the somewhat rustic digs.
But back to the tourists. Venice is made for them! You have never seen so many tchotchke shops in one place in your life! I don't know how old the cruise industry is, but this city seems to have been designed to cater to the day trippers spit out by monstrous ships. They have a matter of hours to see the city and stock up on souvenirs.
We saw a shop that sells nothing but rubber duckies.
But oh, the Biennale! We traveled to Venice specifically to experience the largest art exhibition in the world...the Biennale. It is indescribable, so of course I will attempt to describe it. Artists and craftspeople from around the world exhibit their work, which is dedicated to a central theme. Painters, sculptors, videographers, even gardeners participate in the event. The theme this year was "The Milk of Dreams." It was about the evolution of humans and the world in which we live. Much of it was depressing. Some of it was hopeful. And some of it was beyond my ability to comprehend. Case in point, we saw a movie of naked men humping trees. It was a head scratcher. Among other body parts.
The Biennale is GIGANTIC! It encompasses multiple indoor and outdoor venues. You simply cannot see it all in one day. We were very grateful for the experience. Here is a small sampling of the art.
This is a traffic jam in Venice. And it wasn't even rush hour.
And, as usual, let's end with food. Miraculously, on Day One we happened upon the very cicchetti shop that Phil recommended on his show. Cicchetti is toVenice what tapas is to Spain. It is a potpourri of small bites. In Venice, most of them are some form of fish on toast, and an assortment of five or six of these treats qualifies as lunch. They are delicious! Here I am at All' Arco. We are not the first people to mention to them that we saw their cicchetti shop on Phil's show.
Don't tell our doctor, Dan, but we ate a huge pile of fried seafood for lunch on our last day. Phil made us do it. He said we had to! Phil is probably causing heart attacks all over the world. But I made an agreement with my vital organs as you will remember from week two or three, so here is yesterday's lunch.
The calamari and sardines and shrimp and mussels and clams and fish were caught a mere few hours before we ingested them. The plate also included fried carrots and eggplant, so we at least felt righteous about that.
Ciao Venezia!
Finally, no, we did not ride in a gondola. That is for tourists!
We have now been in Italy for six weeks and we have yet to meet an Italian person who wasn't friendly, helpful, charming, or all of the above! (The people in line at the Agenzia Codice Fiscale were a definite exception and their mild crankiness was justifiable.). Perhaps there is an affability enhancer in the water here. One sip and everyone's your friend. Or maybe the Aperol spritz has magic powers. If only they could bottle this and ship it in bulk to the US!
Next week, Lake Como, an Italian playground for the rich and famous. It will be interesting to discover whether or not there is a snob factor there.
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