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.

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.

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