I WAS GONNA CALL THIS ARTICLE ‘The Joy of Getting Lost!’ Why? Well, magical, mystical, romantic VENICE is one place where it doesn’t hurt to forget your map and get lost for a while. In fact, probably the nicest thing you can do here is go wandering, meandering, sauntering and strolling – down cobblestoned streets, over tiny stone bridges and archways, across tranquil waterways, past glittering shop-windows – wherever the urge takes you, and for as long as it feels good.
Venice, you see, has perfected la Dolce Vita, (‘the Sweet Life’).
This ancient Italian city was built on stilts 1600 years ago, and it rises from its shallow lagoon like a mirage. Back in the day it was a regional super-power, boasting a formidable navy, bullying its stroppy neighbours, and entertaining VIPs. Marco Polo dreamed dreams here, Wagner composed here, Byron wrote here, Galileo tested his telescope here, Shakespeare penned ‘Merchant of Venice’ here, and Elvis Presley crooned “It’s now or never!” from here. (Or maybe he didn’t, but who wants to argue?)
These days, the 120-plus islands that hold Venice up are linked not by roads but by 400 criss-crossing canals. And the place is slowly drowning, sinking beneath the tides a millimetre or two each year – thanks, I reckon, to the combined weight of tourists and pigeons.
But there was still room for us, of course. I mean, another tourist or two wasn’t gonna make any difference. So, abandoning our coach on the mainland, we loaded bodies and bags into a vaporetto (water-bus) and sped off down narrow canals to the stately Hotel Saturnia – a beautifully-restored 14th-century merchant’s mansion, with ornately decorated rooms, and pinch-me-please views out the window from our four-poster bed!
We woke next morning to the sound of loud gongs echoing from a massive 15th-century bell-tower in the heart of Venice, and gondoliers shouting to one another from the decks of their sleek black vessels. After breakfasting Italian-style, we found our way to the enormous Piazza San Marco – with its magnificent pink-and-lacy Doges’ Palace (the Palazzo Ducale, featuring gold-plated ceilings and vast oil paintings) … its elaborate cathedral (the Basilica di San Marco, first built in 830 AD to house the body of St Mark) … and its posh ooh-la-la cafes.
We then engaged in some arm-in-arm wandering, meandering, sauntering, and strolling … pretending to know where we were going (like all the other tourists) … pretending to shop (I nearly bought my wife an expensive glass ornament, two pure pink doves) … and pretending we were on our honeymoon (hanging over the edge of the famous Rialto Bridge, while other couples drifted beneath us, their gondoliers leaning on long oars and singing sweet barcaroles. Sigh …)
We eventually sat down at a table in Venice’s oldest restaurant and pigged-out on pizza.
Day 2 saw us whistling up another vaporetto and heading off along the Guidecca Canal (once described as “the world’s finest street with the world’s finest houses”) … past noble mansions built in the 13th-to-18th centuries, soaring churches pointing domes at the sky, and gondolas bobbing at their moorings.
Our destination? Two of Venice’s outer islands …
The first, Murano, has been the Venetian glass-blowing centre since 1291, and tradesmen still practice their jealously-guarded craft today. We poked our noses inside one of the famous factories … we watched a glass-blower blowing glass … and we window-shopped in a showroom filled with exquisite crystal.
Next, on the equally famous island of Burano, we watched local ladies busy at their intricate lace-making (just a small piece of lace can take weeks to complete) … we explored canals lined with multi-coloured houses … and we sampled yummy home-baked cookies.
It was a warm-and-balmy afternoon as we motored back to the main island. The sea was calm-as-a-millpond, and Venice was working its magic on us.
Later, “as the big red Italian sun lowered itself gently towards the horizon …” we took the advice of our guidebook and booked a Gondola Serenade. Seated like royalty in our proud, polished rowboat, we drifted through the picturesque canals. The darkened waters lapped against the sides … our gondolier worked his long pole … and a Venetian beauty on a nearby gondola serenaded the world in traditional style..
“O sole mio …”
JOIN JOHN & ROBYN COONEY ON THEIR NEXT ADVENTURE. SEE WWW.MIDLIFEMADNESS.TOURS, OR PHONE 0800 323 333.
