Day: June 1, 2024

2024)

See here for Part 2.

For our last full day, we’d be heading to Burano, rather than the business of Murano. The sun was blazing again, and we had a perfect day out. We hit the north side of the city to board at the Fontane Nove stops, and got the number 12 to the islands. I was told that you buy tickets aboard, but nobody came to check or ask us, so we rode over free-of-charge. This trip took maybe 40-50 minutes. To compensate, there were ticket machines at the Burano dock so we bought return tickets there – our consciences remained intact.

We stopped off at a bar near the jetty and bought a bottle of water each, and then proceeded into the town. There are places you go to which the camera doesn’t do any justice. The panoramic views surrounding Volterra is an example, and another one is Burano. We simply couldn’t get over how beautiful it is. The blue skies really brought out the best in the multicoloured buildings lining the streets. Everywhere you looked gave you potential for taking a postcard shot. Even the crowds, not that it was packed, couldn’t detract too much from its loveliness.

We stopped off briefly for gelato – which was pretty tasty, and explored a bit more. If there’s one slightly negative thing I want to say is that there’s a lack of rubbish bins, until you hit the periphery of the island. But it’s a small thing – hold onto your trash for a little while until you locate one. Pretty little lanes and streets were everywhere, and Burano being famous for its lace, had its fair share of fabric shops.

Soon, it was lunch time, and we found a place that had just opened for the day – Ristorante Riva Rosa (Rosa featured a lot in this mini-break!). We luckily got a seat outside and ordered drinks, and then a couple of courses. I tried a fancy version of the creamed cod, with what looked and felt like prawn crackers tinted by squid ink. They were yum – I had to get past that first mouthful again, but it was lovely after. Niamh had scallops in shells – which she enjoyed. After, I had spaghetti alla vongole (clams)… this time they were little lads and all of them in their shells, so I removed them all before tucking in. I’m not sure if you do it piecemeal or all at once. Let me know in the comments. Anyway, I was pleased that dish was still pleasantly warm by the time I’d finished my surgery. It tasted… nice… creamy. I’m not 100% sure clams are the thing for me, though. Niamh had more scallops for seconds, this time with gnocchi – not easy to see in these photos! We really enjoyed the food.

We explored the island a little more afterwards, noting that it, too, had a leaning belltower. Niamh popped into one of the lace stores and bought herself a scarf. We pondered what to do next. On our way in, we had seen a long wooden bridge span Burano and the island of Mazzorbo. So, we took the bridge over there, and it was like a little oasis of peace and quiet. We hardly saw another soul. There are a couple of nice restaurants near the dock, but there’s not much else. However, it’s not the point – the point is to be able to break away from the crowd elsewhere. There’s not any photos of Mazzorbo, for some reason, but there’s some footage in the video below.

We had debated about going on to Torcello and Murano on the way back, but instead we’d leave them for a subsequent visit. We caught the vaporetto from Mazzorbo – note that if you do this you will most likely be standing all the way home to Venice. The stewards opening and closing the gates on the craft can be quite authoritarian, so get quickly on, and quickly off when you need to. When we stopped towards the end of the ride home at Murano. A couple must have dilly-dallied around whether to disembark. The lady in charge of the gates was halfway through closing them, and absolutely refused to let them off – they were on a strict deadline.

It gets busy – maybe get a seat at the terminus instead!

We got back and made a move back towards the hotel. Rather than taking the main roads, we snuck about narrower streets and alleys, and eventually came across a little square, with a path in and path out opposite. In this square, there was a gorgeous looking, ivy-covered restaurant, a bar which was also serving nibbles, this particular neighbourhood’s well and the well’s cat. It was idyllic. We ordered spritzes at the bar and got chatting to a lovely Welsh couple, who were operating under the same open-ended itinerary and timeline we were. Soon, another couple of tables were grabbed by other British couples. We ordered another spritz and a plate of gyoza, of all things. They were tasty enough. The waiter explained where all the produce came from, including the soy sauce, which I found a little amusing.

The cat then provided a lot of ooh’s and aah’s from passing tourists, some of whom stopped to take a photo, when it jumped on top of the well and started cleaning itself. But soon it was time to move on, and we walked back to the hotel and rested a while.

Later that evening, we sought a place to go for dinner. Instead of taking a recommendation, we had a stroll about town, looking for nice, intimate locations. We’d found a couple, but found the menu wasn’t quite to our taste. In the end, we threw caution to the wind and shattered all five of our own rules, and found ourselves in Al Teatro Goldoni. A tourist restaurant. When I looked at the menu, I realised I’d been craving two things: veggies – I’d had so little of them thus far in Venice, and a deep-fried, breaded ‘thing’, be it fish, pork or chicken. I satisfied one craving with a soup that I would swear came out of a Knorr carton, with added chilli oil… still… it sorta did the trick. Niamh, on the other hand, ordered a beef carpaccio, and in fairness to the restaurant, it was really nice – the beef was tender and melty and flavour balance good. My cutlet was nice – maybe a tiny bit dry, but I threw it into me along with the fries. Niamh had a veggie pizza which was less of a roaring success. So, a mixed bag, but a little better than I was expecting.

Another stroll, and back to the hotel for our final night’s sleep, which was perfect! Our flight was in the early afternoon, so we were able to get up at a normal hour, and have some breakfast and a stroll before checking out. Very lengthy video of our stay below!

So, where does that leave Venice for me? I think it’s a magnificent place, but I get a little sad now when I see people flitting from attraction to attraction, heedless of the fact that their every move is slowly eroding away the stones, the buildings, the culture and pebble by pebble the history of the place. It seems like there’s an enormous grab for tick-box experiences in exchange for cash, with the natives slowly being pushed out and into neighbouring Marghera, or nearby towns such as Treviso and Padua. What happens when the damage becomes too much? With the Acqua Alta flooding on the rise, and footfall set to increase with the potential re-arrival of the cruise ships, the city is in danger of being slowly whittled away. Personally, I found I really enjoyed the quieter zones when we came across them, and dining in areas not particularly frequented by tourists.

Where does the crunch point come? Is there a percentage of the buildings which can be sacrificed to keep the tourist dollar coming in? Maybe some Venetians would disagree, but I would like to see Venice become an actual lived-in city, with affordable property pricing, perhaps protected in favour of inhabitants of, say, the Veneto. Turn it back into a functional town – there are very few stores for the inhabitants themselves – more real commerce and less tourist tat. Let’s see real life amid the sprawling alleys and beautiful nooks and breathtaking bridged junctions on the canals. Maybe, when all is balanced, Venice visits will be limited to not the wealthy few, but the lucky few.

Venice Day 2 (13/04/2024)

Part 1 here.

Day 2, which was Niamh’s birthday, was really excellent throughout. We walked our feet off, but we had a wonderful tour of the Doge’s palace and amazing food.

I had a horrible time of it during Covid – most of us did in fairness – and so, like many, my mental health deteriorated catastrophically. While I was building myself back up, I loved to watch travel videos, which included a type of long format video in which the host takes you on a live explore. One of these channels on YouTube is I Love You Venice. It’s less active now than it used to be, as guides are now active again post-Covid. Anyway, one of the hosts was Igor Scomparin (note that the link may fail at first, but try it again in your browser and it should be ok). I always loved his upbeat style and his knowledge of Venice is superb, so as part of Niamh’s birthday present, I organised a skip-the-line-tour of the Doge’s Palace and Cathedral for a few hours that morning.

First, we asked the receptionist to turn our room temperature to 20 celsius, and then – breakfast – we made use of our voucher and had pastries and hot drinks next door to the hotel. Really delicious, I have to say – no complaints there – and there were a good few locals present too, which is always a good sign. We had a small walkabout, and then met Igor just off the hotel lobby. He showed us exactly how close we were to St. Mark’s square – much closet than any route we had previously taken had suggested. We were a little early, so we learned a little history in the southeast plaza. Igor showed us a few graffiti on columns supporting the arcades of the building opposite.

Then it was our time to fly past the baffled people in the queue and entered the palace courtyard. I won’t harp on about the place, suffice to say that it’s incredible. The artwork, stairways, ceilings and art are out of this world and are a must-see. The floors and arcades are uneven in places due to age and subsidence. Unfortunately, I was asked to stop filming by one of the attendants at one stage, which was a pity – I saw others film unpunished, so footage (at the end of Part 3) is limited. Also housed here is one of the most impressive displays of medieval armaments I’ve ever seen. The Doge’s Palace is amazing, and there are other ways you can skip the queue by ordering tickets online. You can google them easily.

Afterwards, we had a quickish stop at the cathedral – I’ve wanted to see the mosaiced Christ, as I have wanted to see the versions in Cefalù and Ravenna. The cathedral itself looks a little eastern orthodox – unusual for this far north in Italy, I would have thought. There were golden mosaics everywhere – it was incredible. The Christ at the back of the Cathedral is a stupendous work. However, it was then that I began to notice things. It was pointed out that the floor was uneven, and parts of it actually were in small waves. So few were looking anywhere else but up. I began to realise that people were here for the sake of being here, and mentally box-ticking, while the cathedral was dying in front of their eyes. And that we were part of the problem. This was confirmed by the sadness I felt when Igor told me that the Venice council were thinking of allowing Cruise Ships back. He told us that although 50,000 people were registered to live in Venice, only 36,000 did so, and yet the number of visitors a year is 36 million. That is insane. What made me saddest of all, however, is that he said he was once asked by a tourist what time Venice closed at… as if it was Disneyland.

After that I tried to make a concerted effort to be more aware of my surroundings as I walked. Acknowledge each water cistern I passed, and noted whether or not it had a little cat-bowl carved nearby for the cats who used to keep the rat population under control. Looking out for a little more graffiti. Checking out the interior of smaller restaurants as we passed by them, and even trying to listen in on a conversation or two.

Anyway – I can’t recommend Igor highly enough for a tour. I’ll leave his details in the description box below – do consider him if you want a special tour to yourselves. At the end of the tour, we asked him for a recommendation for somewhere to go for lunch, and he gave us criteria selection, and we finally settled on Osteria Oliva Nera, which served good food, and was in a quiet neighbourhood. And the selection was bang-on! Although when we got there we asked to be seated outside. The larger table near us was chosen by what seemed to be another Irish family… the irony. Anyway, we both had deep-fried stuffed zucchini flowers, Niamh followed that up with lasagne while I had the best pasta dish I would have in Venice – bigoli pasta with anchovies in an onion sauce. Amazing. The locale was so lovely too – a quiet junction near actual functional shops for locals and another restaurant.

All done, we used the facilities, paid and we started making our way towards the Cannaregio district (or sestiero as they’re called in Venice), to check out the Jewish quarter. We were about a quarter of the way there when I saw in Google that the little island was closed, so with expectations properly set, we ambled our way there. We hit the main street and started walking. We soon tired of that, as there were people everywhere (yes, we are part of the problem), and tried to make our way there through back alleys or walking alongside canals. The latter is rarely available – and we found that exploring alleys was fun and led us to some wonderful views, but they often led us to dead-ends, and so we were inexorably drawn back to the main Corso. At least we got a glimpse of Venice’s leaning tower!

Out of pure coincidence, I checked the map to see if I could find the famous Libreria Acqua Alta. I was hoping to see if I could employ the doctrine of mindful tourism here, but my God it was arguably one of the most disappointing things we did in Venice. Now, this is no discredit to the owners and runners of the bookshop. Had Venice been a normal, functional city serving its population, it would still be no doubt frequented as a nice quirky bookshop with a decent stock of new and antiquarian volumes. What actually greeted us were two circular queues – one to enter and leave by (separate doors), and then at the bottom of the shop, past the mini gondola filled with books, is another circle where you got to climb the steps made of books and take a photo as quickly as possible, and climb down the other side. Always on the move. Never have I felt more like a shepherded animal. Finally, you can exit through a door if you don’t have anything to buy, or go up to the cash desk if you do. I marvel at those who had actual book purchases, because if there’s one thing you need in a bookshop when you’re browsing it’s time – and you simply had none. We were walking out, when a group of tourists who entered through the exit were given out to and made go back around to the front door. And in fairness, the owners have to do this. There is not much space there, and the bookshop would fill up extremely quickly otherwise. Anyway – it wasn’t a great experience.

There’s much more in the video in Part 3

Afterwards, we stopped in a large square, which contained the old famous hospital Saints Giovanni e Paolo. One of the Rosa Salva bars associated with our hotel, for which we had a discounting voucher – but this one also had artisanal gelato, so we indulged, and it was really nice – and needed. When done we trudged onwards. I would say we made it to within 5 or 6 blocks of the closed ghetto when we released that we were both footsore. We made our way back. It took a long time, but it was enjoyable exploring more nooks and crannies, even if some of them were rammed with people.

One of those secluded squares worth seeking out

We got back to the hotel and aahhh’d in satisfaction at the coolness of the room, and had an hour’s rest before we headed out for Niamh’s birthday celebration meal at our sommelier friend’s recommendation: Osteria Da Carla. It was only a short walk. It’s a nice, intimate place, with excellent food.

We had an aperitivo each and both ordered a glass of wine. For starters, Niamh had tortelloni (cappellacci as they were called on the menu) stuffed with rabbit, and I had deep fried sardines. Afterwards, I had linguine with clams and bottarga – the clams were already out of their shells so I could have at them immediately. It was a beautiful plate of pasta, but I think I would give the nod just about to the anchovy dish I had earlier. Niamh’s, however, was a pure winner – Iberico pork fillet wrapped in bacon. Perfectly cooked, a little pink in the middle and tender. Desserts… Niamh had fancy tiramisu and I had a wonderfully inventive home-made cream egg, where the white was ricotta and the yellow pureed mango – delish. A lovely place all in all for a fine meal in a romantic environment.

Afterwards, we had a little walk about town, stopping off in Il Salotto di San Marco for another drink (see Part 1). There was a table of 6 next to us, and the kitchen/bar had prepared squid ink risotto. We were the only other people there (the place is tiny), so rather than see us go without food, they gave us a half-plate between us to try. This is a wonderful example of Italian hospitality! We chatted briefly with the locals, and it was just one of those special moments.

and that squid ink risotto I mentioned earlier. Anyway – and so to bed. I tell you, getting up with that 20c setting was a great deal chillier than we expected, so we asked them tap it up to 22c for our last night – would it be the goldilocks temperature we needed? We’d see.

Part 3 here!

Venice Day 1 (12/04/2024)

Sorry about the long break, but I’ve been a busy bunny. Anyway, here is a break from the current timeline to something more recent: our 3-day trip to Venice.

We are part of the problem. Of course we know this. It would be hypocritical of us to deny that and yet take part in what is assuredly a slow degradation of a proud and beautiful city. And this is why I left Venice with a tinge of sadness, but with a bittersweet longing for return.

First things first… why Venice and not Volterra? Well it was a significant birthday for Niamh, and she shopped around for the holiday and chose Venice as her destination. We had been there for about 7 hours in 2010, and watching live walks in it during the pandemic whetted our appetites, particularly those uploaded by the YouTube channel ‘I Love You Venice’.

We flew Ryanair, but didn’t opt for FastTrack. We had regretted that at first, as the queue snaked back all the way to its opening, but it actually moved quite nicely and we were only in it for maybe 15 minutes. There was a slight delay to takeoff, which was made-up during flight time, and when we landed… ahhh, the temperatures. It was 22-23, whereas Ireland hadn’t gotten higher than 14 and was still frequently in single digits. I was feeling the jacket I was wearing.

Anyway, we navigated our way past the first vaporetto ticket booth to the docks, where the booth was empty. We bought tickets for the vaporetto, went to dock 12, and then queued… and queued… and queued. A larger vaporetto was boarded by the waiting in the dock next to ours, and they too seemed to be going to Rialto, so I was beginning to get squirmy. The vaporetto filled and left. Then a few minutes later, a smaller version came to our dock and our queue started moving – but it took two further boats to enable us to get on board. All part of the process, I guess. In fairness, they weren’t long in coming. We boarded and had to wrestle our handheld luggage down the stairs. I stupidly chose a row of seats beside a life preserver, so I had nowhere to put my case, save between my legs for the hourlong ride.

Ten minutes in, I realised that at times we were banking a lot. It was due to the fact that there are actual lanes demarked in the bay and traffic rules to be obeyed. I guess it makes total sense, given the amount of water craft in the area. We breezed past a few islands, only making a stop at one, I think, before making it to the grand canal. We had our first wow moments there. The weather was perfect – the best weekend they’d had to date that year – and everywhere you turned was a Canaletto painting. It’s a remarkable-looking place. We hit our stop at Rialto bridge, and set about finding our hotel.

There were plenty of people about, but crowds were not the foremost thing on our mind. We were keen on finding our place, dumping our bags, finding a light bite and going on an explore. I have heard many people in videos say “don’t bother with Google maps”. Maybe this was down to their provider. We only had occasional signal issues, with our location darting about the map as a result, but by and large, we found Maps to be reasonably useable under Vodafone (not sponsored). We found our hotel (me noting a couple of gelaterie on the way) without much fuss in less then 10 minutes. We stayed in the Rosa Salva, a small boutique hotel not too far from St. Mark’s Square, on a quiet enough laneway. Note, that everything we mention by name will have a link to it in the description box below. This hotel is associated with a small chain of pasticcierie and gelaterie in Venice. There was no breakfast, but we had some free food and drink in the room fridge and a discount voucher for their stores – one of which was right next door!

Anyway, once we’d checked-in, we ran out and came across a really cute little cichetteria – Il Salotto di San Marco – and stopped for a drink and those little tasty Venetian morsels. I tried the famed creamed cod. Atfter my first bite, I had regretted all my life’s decisions up to the point they took me up to that very moment and caused me to put this substance in my mouth. It was terribly fishy, even to the point of it being ammonic. I took a second bite, and then it didn’t seem quite so bad – and the 3^rd and 4^th were actually quite pleasant. Give it a go – but push past that first mouthful! I had a fancy version of it again in Burano, but more on that later.

We had a wander and of course Venice blew our minds. Let me get one thing straight: Venice is an explorer’s dream. There’s always an excitement of reaching another junction, which involved a canal, and you just knew that all 360 degrees would be Instagrammable. Wander down narrow laneways, away from the main arteries, and if you’re lucky you’ll find a secluded square with a bar or restaurant with few tourists, and surprisingly low prices.

Then there are the main Corso on the way to Canereggio, the grand canal walks and, God help us all, the Rialto bridge. We had a gelato on the southeast side of the bridge (meh), and then, girding our loins, crossed the bridge. We hit the Rialto bridge once during this stay (well, twice – we had to cross back), and avoided it for the rest of the trip. It was teeming, and even then it wasn’t high season. I shudder to think what it’s like then. It’s really the only way to cross the grand canal, unless you hire a traghetto. Actually, if you do hire a traghetto, you also get the gondola experience for about €2 per person – albeit for a much shorter duration – it just ferries you across the canal.

We hit the grand canal walkways a bit, checking out the bridge in profile. Look, it’s gorgeous from that angle, and a must-see when you’re in Venice. In fact, I’d find it difficult to believe that any visitor, particularly a first-time one, never went near it. Then it was off to the piazza at the far end of the fish market for a sit-down drink. The market was being hosed down, and the drinks were fine – the smell of fish assailed our nostrils from time to time – not necessarily a good companion to Aperol!

We went back to the hotel to have a bit of a rest. On the way back, we stopped off at an off-the-beaten-track Carnavale mask maker. Niamh picked one out to add to our mask collection in Volterra. We had begun gung-ho, with plans to stay out ‘til dinner time – but the early start got the better of us, and we headed back up. The room was warm, and we actually didn’t ask the receptionist to reduce the heat until the next day. In fact, it was the best spell of weather Venice had so far this year – there was a mini heat-wave over much of Italy that weekend – so we were very lucky.

We had gotten a recommendation for a restaurant from a sommelier, and walked out to walk in that evening… more than a bit naively… but when we found it, it was booked out. We managed to book it for the next night, which was Niamh’s birthday – so it all worked out beautifully! Anyway, there were a couple of other places nearby… and this takes me to a little tips section on selecting restaurants in Venice (and in much of Italy, to be honest), if you’re a foodie… If you’re happy to chuck any old muck into you (no judgement, honest), then you can ignore them:

Generally, don’t go for ‘does-it-all’ restaurants unless you have a family with you. If you want a chance at good pizza, go to a pizzeria, if you want good pasta and mains, go to a regular restaurant.
A menu with 200 things on it. Sometimes they can surprise you, but quality is inevitably going to suffer here.
A menu in the window translated into 5 languages
A menu in the window with photos that are supposed to represent the food on the menu
Restaurants which have people hired specifically to entice you into the restaurant. Yuck. I hate this.

Go for smaller, family-run places – if you can find a hand-written menu of the day, then you’ve probably hit the jackpot if you’re after local specialities.

All that said, we broke one of these rules and went to Il Calice, a pizzeria with a small menu with other plates. They had some really lovely looking pizza-by-the-slice squares, but we weren’t in the mood for pizza and so opted to go upstairs to the café-style restaurant and ordered from the menu instead. We had a fab salumi plate to share, with a delicious chunky piccalilli. So far, so good. Sadly, the pasta dishes weren’t great. Niamh had a pasta amatriciana and I had gnocchi in a white ragu. Niamh’s pasta was undercooked, but the sauce wasn’t bad. My gnocchi were definitely overcooked, and while the sauce was ok, it was very soupy. In fact, had it been served as a soup, I wouldn’t have minded.

After the meal, we wound our way to St. Mark’s square though the little local maze and sat opposite the Doge’s Palace and people watched. Of course we had to dodge the rose sellers, and the hawkers of those helicopter kids toys thingies.

When we’d had enough, we walked along the grand canal and, quite by accident, found Harry’s Bar – the birthplace of beef carpaccio and the Bellini cocktail. We had to do the touristy thing – it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience… yes, we paid €22 per teeny Bellini. Peaches were not yet in season, but it was fresh pulp nonetheless… however, to me, it tasked a little like cardboard box. They were serving food there that did smell quite yummy, though. We were fed enough, though, and instead headed back to the hotel as we knew we’d have a day of being on our feet tomorrow.