We made the short walk to San Marco in the start of a steady
rain and sea of umbrellas to attend Mass there before breakfast. The basilica is closed to tourists on Sunday mornings
and there was just a small group assembled up close and personal in the great
multi-domed church. A choral and brass
ensemble from Finland filled the space and lifted spirits. The Mass is the same, no matter the location,
no matter the language, so we always feel at home and a part of something
universal. (We’re both old enough to
remember when Mass everywhere was in Latin, so pretty much no one understood
what was going on; now, everywhere, at least part of the congregation has a
fighting chance!) I must admit that it was difficult not to have my eyes fixed
on the scene overhead. The mosaics of
San Marco are simply stunning, in both their glittering beauty and in their
extent. Above the level of the first
arches, literally every inch of the domes, arches, walls, and ceilings radiates
with a golden glow. It is just
stupendous, perhaps all the more so in comparison with yesterday afternoon’s
visit to the darkened basilica.
We found it even rainier after Mass, but as we walked home
for breakfast, saw some breaks in the clouds.
By the time we were ready to set out on the day’s adventure, it was
sunny, and just perfect for our planned itinerary. We were headed to some of the islands in the
lagoon away from the city, along with lots of others doing a Sunday
getaway.
Our first stop was the farthest away, the “ghost island” of
Torcello, one of the first islands settled when the Huns drove the natives off
shore. It was once home to 20,000
people, but now fewer than 100 live there.
It’s a pretty bucolic place with a couple of churches, including the
first cathedral of Venice, some vineyards, a museum, and a couple of inns – for
those who really want to get away from it all!
From Torcello, we backtracked (five minutes by vaporetto) to
Burano, home to fishermen and their lace-making wives. Pull out your favorite metaphor for colorful
(the ultimate Crayola assortment, a rainbow, a riot of color, the full Pantone
chart, the whole color wheel, etc.) and you won’t come close to the look of
Burano. Nothing subtle to be found
anywhere on this delightful island, and no end to scenes just begging to be
photographed!
Working our way back to Venice, Murano was our last stop. This island, close to Venice, was where the
glass furnaces once located in the city, were sent to isolate fire danger. It is full of furnaces (and the blackened
remains of others) and the shops that display and sell their beautiful finished
products. In contrast to Burano, here
the colors were in the shop windows, not on the buildings.
On our return to Venice, we took the vaporetto to the train
station, where we caught another boat, which traveled the length of the Grand
Canal, past its magnificent palazzi, hotels and museums, to San Marco. We disembarked there, shopped for our last
dinner in town, and headed home.
After dinner, we went to the nearby Church of the Pieta,
where Vivaldi had been the concertmaster to hear a concert of his works. He is highly revered here in his hometown,
and his music is presented everywhere, every night, but this certainly seemed
like the right venue for us. The church
is right on the Riva, between our apartment and San Marco, and it’s a little
oval jewel. The concert included The Four Seasons (that seems to be a
requirement) and it was lovely.
The night was clear and mild, so we walked over to the
piazza, which was uncrowded, clean, and quiet, except for the music from the
swank cafes. Truly, you’d have to go a
long way to beat this.
This was our last full day in Venice. Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll take a ferry to the
airport and we’ll spend tomorrow night in a nearby hotel before our early
morning flight on Tuesday.
Before we leave La
Serenissima, a few observations about this unique city:
· -
There’s no such thing as not getting lost. Normal rules of geographic location are
suspended: street names change, one side of a canal has a different name from
the opposite bank, dead ends abound, places are often identified by church
parish, and the sight of people scratching their heads as they huddle over
their maps is as common as bridges.
· -
Everything comes and goes by boat – food,
garbage, building supplies, the fire, police, and ambulance service. Deliveries on land are by hand truck, up and
down the steps of countless bridges and through narrow streets. Residential garbage is bagged and hung on
hooks outside homes for collection by men pushing large carts.
· -
For all its charm, living here must be very
difficult. Space is at a premium, grocery shopping is limited (less to carry!),
maneuvering strollers up and over bridges is not for the faint of heart, nor is
watching toddlers. In a “normal”
environment, if a child wanders into the street, s/he at least has a chance of
being unscathed; here, a tumble into a canal pretty would much seal the
deal. And, forget about access for the
physically handicapped; I don’t know how they manage.
·
-Venice is quiet.
Away from the Grand Canal, the rios are quiet, with mostly gondola
traffic and the occasional motor boat.
No car horns, buses, trams, no bicyclists. In the evening, most of the tourists have
gone to the mainland or sailed off on the massive cruise ships, and the city is
peaceful.
· -
Venice is clean, especially considering how
crowded it is during the day, and the small-scale trash collection operations
described above.
· -
Venice is magic.
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