Thursday, May 28, 2009

Venice (Or, In Piazza San Marco With No Baedeker)

Open sewer. Stinky. Crowded. These were the general impressions of Venice given to us ahead of our trip. Close to our departure, though, a few well-trusted sources told us to stay in Venice because we’d never be anywhere like it again. It’s hard to turn down such advice.

It was true: Piazza San Marco was insufferably crowded when we arrived in the morning. It was easy to miss the beauty because it took too much energy to walk five steps. After maneuvering through the crowds, we reached our hotel (kudos to Jimmy for finding it; I was never not lost in Venice). The concierge advised his two weary travelers to go to the Rialto Bridge: to the left, tourists; to the right, Venice. He was right. Within a five-minute walk was a tranquil Venice. We had no agenda but to explore. We had no guidebook but only our eyeballs to decipher surroundings. Walking aimlessly meant constant surprises. Some surprises charmed us: rooftop gardens, cool architecture, and the sweet elderly woman who didn't seem to mind that we couldn't understand her conversation. The bigger surprises wowed us: one unassuming street opened to a piazza flanked by two cathedrals where a man performed an impromtu opera for the enjoyment (and euros) of onlookers. In a papershop, an enthusiastic owner took us to the back room to demonstrate the centuries-old Italian technique to design painted papers. In a public park, we explored a garden with time-worn statues peeking out from ivy, we ducked into shady alcoves enclosed by tree branches. Then we saw another beautiful sight: cruise ships and their hordes departing for the evening, making it safe to return to Piazza San Marco. Ciao, crowds. Buena sera, Venice.

Venice at night was splendid. The narrow streets were only partially lit by the glow of shop and restaurant windows. Lights danced across water. Music was everywhere. Piazza San Marco seemed more majestic when not under the duress of crowds. The restaurants along the piazza had outdoor stages for bands; each band took a turn to wow the crowd and even compelled couples and groups to dance. Jimmy and I sat on steps in a far corner of the piazza, enjoying the music, the dancers, and those out for a stroll, all with San Marco as a backdrop. It was a perfect moment.

We missed the big Venetian sights suggested in most guidebooks: we didn't enter San Marco or the Doge's Palace, we skipped the gondola ride. But we did debunk the theory of Venice as stinky and crowded. Not even. Perhaps it took losing the guidebook to see it.