A perfect ending

Setting out, letting my feet take me where they want. Along the waterfront, down a few random canals, past the old arsenal, around a few corners. And there it is – the perfect place. Some pasta, venison, wine, completely delicious. A shady patio, someone playing opera from a window somewhere high above me. A stroll back, past San Marco. A perfect ending. Perfect.

I found myself in a strange deserted city – an old city, like London – underpopulated by war or disease. It was night; the streets were dark, bombed out, abandoned. For a long time I wandered aimlessly – past ruined parks, blasted statuary, vacant lots overgrown with weeds and collapsed apartment houses with rusted girders poking out of their sides like ribs. But here and there, interspersed among the desolate shells of the heavy old public buildings, I began to see new buildings too, which were connected by futuristic walkways lit from beneath. Long cool perspectives of modern architecture, rising phosphorescent and eerie from the rubble.

I went inside one of these new buildings. It was like a laboratory, maybe, or a museum. My footsteps echoed on the tile floor. There was a cluster of men, all smoking pipes, gathered around an exhibit in a glass case that gleamed in the dim light and lit their faces ghoulishly from below.

I drew nearer. In the case was a machine revolving slowly on a turntable, a machine with metal parts that slid in and out and collapsed in upon themselves to form new images. An Inca temple … click click click … the Pyramids … the Parthenon. History passing beneath my very eyes, changing every moment.

“I thought I’d find you here,” said a voice at my elbow.

It was Henry. His gaze was steady and impassive in the dim light. Above his ear, beneath the wire stem of his spectacles, I could just make out the powder burn and the dark hole on his right temple.

I was glad to see him, though not exactly surprised. “You know,” I said to him, “everybody is saying that you’re dead.”

He stared down at the machine. The Colosseum … click click click … the Pantheon. “I’m not dead,” he said. “I’m only having a bit of trouble with my passport.”

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “My movements are restricted,” he said. “I no longer have the ability to travel as freely as I would like.”

Hagia Sophia. St Mark’s in Venice. “What is this place?” I asked him.

“That information is classified, I’m afraid.”

I looked around curiously. It seemed that I was the only visitor. “Is it open to the public?” I said.

“Not generally, no.”

I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn’t time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point.

“Are you happy here?” I said at last.

He considered this for a moment. “Not particularly,” he said. “But you’re not very happy where you are either.”

St Basil’s, in Moscow. Chartres. Salisbury and Amiens. He glanced at his watch.

“I hope you’ll excuse me, he said, but I’m afraid I’m late for an appointment.”

He turned from me and walked away. I watched his back receding down the long, gleaming hall.

~~~

At the end of the Italian Summer…

It cooled off today – of if not quite cooled off, at least the stifling humidity is gone. A nice cool breeze this morning as I set out, and the rest of the day was entirely bearable.

This will probably be the final entry. It’s my birthday. It’s been grand.

Backing up to last night first – a nice little place hidden around the corner from the big public market. Over a little wooden bridge in a courtyard surrounded by an old brick wall and grape vines overhead. A simple meal, but very good – a big salad with smoked tuna, salmon, and swordfish. Pasta with eggplants and mushrooms. A stroll back to Saint Mark’s square. There was a high tide and the square was mostly flooded. Reflecting the lights of the buildings all around. The band playing at the Cafe Florian, people dancing in the middle of it, water up past their ankles. Walking home by an almost full moon.

This morning, off early on the boar to Murano. Walking the streets along the canals before mist of the tourists arrived, all the little shops just opening. I got my glass – went a little overboard actually, but who cares. It’s my birthday. A coupe little shops – some small things, some gifts, some cuff links for myself. Then to one of the big glass factories – Fornace Mian. Everything was so beautiful. A red goblet, tall and delicate, intricate little details in the stem. Not unlike what Katherine Hepburn bought herself in “Summertime”. One of the classic designs – pure elegance and grace – not one of those swirly modern things. Apparently there are only about 50 glass masters still Alice on Murano who possess the skills to make these old style. The designs themselves have been handed down for hundreds of years. Comes with a certificate of authenticity. Completely beautiful. I won’t say how much it cost. I’d post a picture but it’s all wrapped up – somehow I have to get this thing home in one pice tomorrow…

After that, a cappuccino in a little cafe along the canal. The boat home. Took the long way – instead of cutting along the grand canal, it circled the whole island and approached San Marco from the south. A seat outside right up front, watching the skyline with Doge’s Palace, San Marco, come slowly into view. Complete peace and serenity.

Dropping my purchases off in the room, and then back to the docks for the boat to Burano. This island is quite a bit further out. Zig-zagging through the lagoon, passing these tiny little islands, just marsh, some with crumbling buildings slowly being reclaimed by the marsh. They used to send plague victims out to these islands to live or die. The only way to reach them now is by private boat.

Then out in what, in Venice, is the countryside. Little islands with orchards and gardens, a few houses and villas here and there, little docks out front. And then Burano. It’s a small town rest – the suburbs. Narrow canals, much smaller buildings. More people who actually live there. Families, kids playing in the squares, laundry strung out of windows across the pathways. And every house the most brilliantly bright colours – yellows, blues, reds. They make lace on Burano – all the who’s in the main streets and squares sell it. Wandered around for a whole, stopped in a little place for some pizza, headed home. A slow walk back across the island, and here we are.

A few hours to pack up, get everything ready for tomorrow, dinner, bed, and then were done. Tomorrow will be hard – up very early in time to catch the boat to the airport. Mid-morning flight to Frankfurt (which I’m told is complete chaos), a couple hours, then on to Vancouver, touching down in the middle of the afternoon somewhere.

But we won’t worry about all that yet. Plenty of time for that tomorrow.

The last three weeks…
The glorious ruins of the Roman Empire. The splendour of the Vatican. The Colosseum. The Sistine Chapel. The chaotic excitement of Naples. The stones and frescoes of Pomeii. The crater of Vesuvius. Then Capri, with its cliff-top vistas, it’s luxury, the feast of the saint. Florence the Renaissance jewel. The old bridge. The towering marble cathedral. Pisa – that big grassy square full of people under a beating sun, All looking up at tower. And Venice.

Next, the tricky prospect of getting back to real life. It’s waiting for me just over the horizon, on the dark side of the world, dawning as this day wraps up. I’ll have highly the pleasurable task during the next few weeks of sorting through the six or seven (I’ve lost count) memory cards of photos. Then the credit card bills will arrive – less pleasurable, I daresay. But we won’t think about that either. But we’ll also try to hold off thinking about next year until they’ve been paid.

Well that’s no way to end this. But it seems to be the end, nonetheless. Life nipping at my heels while I walk as fast as I can so that it doesn’t catch up.

Ah, Venice…

What a day. The heat as relentless as ever, and pretty well cooked after an hour long boat ride in and around the island, but all completely fantastic.

Let’s see – breakfast, and then off. First was a tour of the Doge’s palace. Saw it before, but about half of this tour was through a maze of secret passageways that aren’t open to the general public. Hidden doorways in closets, disguised behind wood paneling. The torture chamber. Casanova’s two cells – the first that he almost escaped from by scraping out a hole in the wood floor under his bed. He was moved before he could finish the job. Second cell he successfully escaped from with the help of a priest in the neighbouring cell – this time through the ceiling, disguising themselves as visitors and walking out the main gate. (The neighbouring priest also imprisoned for various decidedly un-priestly acts – those naughty catholic priests, oh dear…). Must get myself the book he wrote about his adventures when I get back (Casanova’s, not the priest – although that would undoubtedly be interesting reading too).

Escaping the heat – good lord, with the tiny little rooms, the old wood paneling, it both felt and smelled like a sauna in there. Every time I go outside my glasses fog up because of the humidity.

Luxuriously overpriced lunch at the Cafe Florian with its 6€ charge for the pleasure of hearing their band – but I was ready for that. You can’t go to Venice and not have lunch at the Cafe Florian.

After lunch, my city tour. This was really fantastic. It started with a boat ride in one of those beautiful, long, wooden taxis. Leaving from San Marco, cutting along various little canals through to the north of the island, past that cemetery island, back in through the canal near where I stayed last year, then cruising the Grand Canal, past all the palaces, under the Rialto Bridge, back to San Marco. The guide explaining the history behind various churches and bridges and palazzos along the way. Best part was there were only seven people in the group, so no crowds, no lines, none of that tourist chaos.

Then it was into Saint Mark’s basilica. My goodness. You’ve never seen so much gold. Every inch of the walls, the ceiling, the domes, covered in tiled frescos, gold leaf everywhere. It positively shimmered. Through the church, up to the terrace looking over the square. Indescribably beautiful.

After that it was an hour’s walking tour from the church to the Rialto Bridge. Taking the direct route, it’s about a ten minute walk, but the guide led us through all these twists and turns, over bridges and under arches. Saw where Marco Polo lived. Completely fascinating perspective – I’d walked several of the streets before, this year and last, and simply passed by so much of it without knowing what was there.

A perfect day, really. Ending with some tips on where not to eat a touristy dinner – on the other side of the Rialto Bridge, I’m told, so that’s where I’ll be heading in an hour or so. Until then, some prosecco, the sun coming in through the window.

Tomorrow, off to the islands!

A walk around the lagoon

So glad to be back in Venice. Just spent the afternoon wandering around, up and down the little alleys, over the bridges. Saint Mark’s Square, the Rialto Bridge, seeing certain corners that I remember from last time.

Getting to the hotel was fun. Public transport in Venice – a water bus along the Grad Canal from the train station to the Rialto Bridge. Then down a few little streets, around a few corners, through a low archway – and I’m there. A courtyard opens up. A yellow building with purple flowers. An old well in the centre of the courtyard, an old gated chapel off to one side. Up the stairs and into the most beautiful hotel of the trip (oh dear, how much did I agree to pay for this one? Sure beats the little closet I had in Venice last year). Fifth floor room, beautiful view over the square and the tiled rooftops beyond. Really rather luxurious.

After checking in and cooling off – it was about 40 degrees out there today – setting off to reacquaint myself with the streets of Venice. Eventually finding myself a little restaurant with a nice view of Saint Mark’s, a good pizza with pancetta and buffalo mozzarella, a nice cool beer. Then watching the sun go down from the waterfront, and back to the hotel.

Big day tomorrow – a tour day. Morning is the Doge’s Palace – I saw it solo last time, but after doing a fair bit of reading on the history of Venice in the interceding year, I’m very much looking forward to seeing it again with the added perspective of the guide. There are some sections included that I believe are not open to the general public – including the cell in which Casanova was imprisoned, and escaped from. A break for lunch, and then a walking tour of the city, including Saint Mark’s Cathedral – skipping the line – especially looking forward to this, as that was the line that caused me to skip this church last time around – and you simply can’t see Venice without seeing Saint Marks.

And then it’ll be dinner time. Tonight was a budget dinner – planning for a feast tomorrow.

Oh! Almost forgot. They must have had a high tide and flooding here recently – there are still some raised wooden platforms in some of the streets, and some pools of water in shady spots. Don’t seem to be in any danger of flooding now though – water is well below the pavement.

Last stop – Venice!

12:17 – My last train journey about to begin. Off to Venice.

A nice relaxing morning, breakfast – I’ve failed to describe this lobby/breakfast room. This hotel was once a rather grand palazzo, and the main room is now the lobby and lounge. Ceilings at least 20 feet high, coffered and frescoed, huge oak doors, patterned tile floor, marble fireplaces, full of antiques and beautiful rugs and barbican and lamps. A joy to spend the last few mornings there with my cappuccino and croissant.

After that, a short and leisurely stroll through town, final packing up, and off to the railway station (which, luckily with this heat, is only about a five minute walk away)

Now in a comfortable first class air conditioned(!) train, pulling out of Florence, Venice bound. Oh I cannot wait to see the beautiful blue waters of the lagoon. The canals, the bridges, all the little boats. It shall be a perfect end to this perfect trip.

31st birthday in two days…
Not bothered by it in the slightest.

3:22 – Ah, Venice…

Arrivederci Firenze

A long hike, despite the heat, up the hill, stairs upon stairs, to the San Miniato Church and the Piazelle Michelangelo, high above the city, views of the river, the bridges, the whole city, the Tuscan hills beyond as the sun dips towards the horizon.

Reluctantly back down, and a delicious farewell dinner. A farewell feast – prosecco, pasta with zucchini, steak with porcini mushrooms, red wine, limoncello. And them a final stroll the city at night – the main square, the palace, the cathedral. An accordionist playing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, “O Sole Mio”.

What a delightful few days its been here. The city, Pisa, such views, such beauty.

When it’s hotter inside the museum than out…

…You know you’re in an ancient un-airconditioned palace in Florence!

35 again today (40 with the humidity) – swear it was hotter inside that museum though. A tiring but culture and art filled day. Morning was a nice leisurely walk through town, from the old bridge, to the old marketplace, to (and through) the cathedral, on to the Accedemia museum and David. Learned lots of history of the town along the way and the Medicis who more or less built it.

The hidden 1km passageway from their palace across the river through the Uffizi gallery (their old palace, then offices of government – offices = Uffizi) to the Palazzo Vecchio, so the ruling Medicis could get from their home to work without having to soil their finery on the filthy streets (the old bridge was the butcher district at the time).

The bronze pig statue outside the old market square – if you rub its nose, you’ll return to Florence (a slightly less grand version of throwing a coin in the Trevi Fountain in Rome). I forgot to toss a coin in the fountain, but I did rub the pig’s nose – it was free, after all, and free things in this city are hard to come by.

The cathedral with its soaring dome and frescos.

A stop down a little side street for gelato.

A hideous 30 minute line to get in to see David (and we were in the short tour group line – the real line was 3 hours). Of course you can’t take pictures, but it really was rather fantastic. Hard to appreciate the scale of that statue in any other way than in person – it’s about 15 feet tall.

A break for lunch, and then into the Uffizi gallery. Completely packed with people – had to apply an elbows-out approach to get up close to my favourites. And I did see my absolute favourite, which I didn’t even know was there – so happy to round the corner and see da Vinci’s “Annunciation”. So much bigger and more beautiful than I ever imagined. This, along with “The School of Athens” (my other favourite) grace my walls at home in poster form. So happy to have seen the both now. Also there were Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” and “Primavera” (another of my favourites that I didn’t realize was there). So an afternoon full of beautiful surprises, despite the crowds, despite the heat.

They say there’s a thunderstorm coming tonight. When we got out of the museum, there were clouds in the sky for the first time in days. But it should pass overnight, and give me another beautiful day for my journey on to Venice.

The end is really getting close now.

There’s a church up on the southern hills that is said to be the best place to watch the sun set in this city. I’m going to pack up for tomorrow, and then head that way, find some food, stay up there till dark, and the wander home.

Bellissima Notte

Oh Florence!

What a beautiful night.

Fantastic dinner at a little place down the road – fresh pasta with truffles, salmon tartare, red wine, limoncello.

A stroll down to the river, perched on the wall by the Ponte Vecchio bridge, the sun going down, a young girl playing the harp on the grassy riverbank down below.

A stroll back home through the streets and squares of Florence, lit up by the night.

Bellisimo.

Inferno

Indeed. The heat’s getting to me. It’s 35 degrees today…
Couldn’t take it any longer, back in my nice little air conditioned room with sone prosecco to wait out the last of it.

Starting to feel a little homesick.

Three weeks is the perfect length. Long enough to forget everything back home, and also long enough to make you want to go back nevertheless. The end is in sight. Tomorrow, a day of travel to Venice, two days there, and home.

Followed the Inferno route today. Starting at the Piazzale di Porta Romana, the main gate to the old walled city. Then into the magnificent Boboli Gardens – quiet and relaxing and cool still early in the morning. The Palazzo Pitti build by the Medicis. Over the Ponte Vecchio Bridge.

Then the Palazzo Vecchio – a fantastic museum. First up the Badia Tower (getting my share of towers in the last few days), beautiful views, then making my way down through the grand frescoed rooms of the palace. Dante’s death mask. The soaring Hall of the Five Hundred. Dante’s house. The church around the corner dedicated to Dante and Beatrice Portinari (he saw her in this church the first time when he was nine, she eight, and held desperate unrequited love for her for the rest of his life). There is a shrine to her in the church, and a basket, overflowing with notes from visitors – letters to Beatrice asking for help in love.

A detour to the Bargello Museum after that, back to the Piazza del Duomo, the big church. Hideous looking line to go inside – but that’s tomorrow with my tour, and we’ll be skipping the line.

After that, overpriced lunch nearby (everything is overpriced here – going a tad over budget in this city – it was 10€ just to go into that park!), and then just wandering around in a daze in the heat.

Another couple hours here, and then I think I spotted a nice little place down the road for dinner. Yesterday, trying to keep the euros under control, was just cheap pizza and beer, but tonight I might just pull out the Visa and have a feast.

Tomorrow is going to be great. Morning is a walking tour of the city (I’ve pretty much walked it already, but this time it’ll have the educational commentary). Various churches and piazzas – highlights being in the big cathedral, and in the Accademia, which contains Michelangelo’s David. Break for lunch, and then it’s on to the Uffizi Gallery, which contains a fantastic collection by da Vinci, Botticelli, Titian, Michelangelo – most exciting being Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus”. Should be a perfectly grand farewell to the city.

Oh Venice, I hear you calling.

(I had to buy a couple memory cards for my camera today – apparently 5 wasn’t enough…)

The Leaning Tower of Pisa

Yep – made it up the long spiral staircase to the top!

What a swarm of tourists! I’d hate to see this place in July and August if this is what it’s like in June. Golly. The square just surrounded by all manner of stalls selling cheap (or not so cheap) junk with the tower on it. People everywhere. Lines. The usual African immigrants with their purses and sunglasses and watches.

But well worth it.

A nice, scenic – but crowded and bloody hot – hour on the train out there. Little towns up on the hills. The Tuscan countryside. Pisa itself is an entirely charming little town. The river cutting through it, fountain am the grand old streets.

The tower, church, and baptistry are clustered together in a large grassy square (ringed by the hoards and the junk vendors). A line to get into each of them. All completely beautiful.

It’s 30 degrees here – and not a spec of shade. Got some lunch, some coffee, saw the sights, and headed home. About 4:30 now – I left at about 9, so it’s been a long day. A little rest here, and then a wander through the city until dinner time.

Tomorrow is just solo exploration. To be completely absurd, I’m going to follow the trail through the city that follows the plot of that new Dan Brown book, “Inferno” – I made notes as I read. Should be a fun little day.

Right, all for now.