ClarksinVerona: Diving Into The Labyrinth of Venice

I Think I Should Have Turned Left at Albuquerque

This is an a-mazing place! Literally. We walked out of the Santa Lucia train station to the Grand Canal of Venice and started our day with no agenda other than to find our way back to catch the 5 o'clock train back to Verona. I purchased a map from the next-door tourist trap and off we went.

Before we crossed over to the other side, we finally took the time to go inside a church, the Santa Maria di Nazareth. I realize there are better ways to describe impressive pieces of work, but all I could say was wow. Are you kidding me? The detail, the craftsmanship, WOW!

We finally left Santa Maria and began our adventure. Being the leader, I searched for a landmark we could use for a reference. I told Vicki and Brianna that we were going to use the copper dome (of San Simeon Piccolo Church) as our reference point. So we crossed over the bridge and began walking down narrow streets of tall buildings and interesting graffiti in search of lunch.

What copper dome?

We quickly realized that directions in Venice are meaningless. The streets/alley ways are barely wide enough for one direction of foot traffic let alone two. What confuses me is why the side streets of Venice are well marked and named, whereas lanes jammed with locals and tourists, venetian masquerade masks, underwear stores that make Victoria Secret appear conservative and bakeries, are not. (This site is rated G so I didn't take any photos of the underwear stores.)

The first place that caught our eye was a pizzeria. Now Brianna told us that her boyfriend's mom told her that they put everything on pizza. I didn't realize to what extent. In Colorado Springs, my favorite pizzeria is Borrillo Brothers' Pizza. I even did three tours of pizza delivery for them, and yet I can never remember eating nor delivering a bacon and eggs pizza. Next to the Pizza Americana, was the Pizza Antonella pictured below. In case you can't tell what the topping is, the Pizza Antonella is a pizza with patate fritte (french fries).

Vicki wasn't too sure about a place that serves McDonalds on top of their pizzas so we continued on looking for the perfect place. We continued following the other lemmings looking at different menus along the way when we heard two guys playing amazing classical music interspersed with "Another One Bites the Dust", "Smoke on the Water", and the music to the shower scene in "Psycho". I videoed part of their performance which I will include in a later blog talking about street performers.

While I was listening to the violinists, Vicki was looking at the menu of Trattoria Pizzeria. Now have I mentioned that the food in Italy is wonderful.

I'm telling you while we were enjoying lunch and listening to the violinist, it was like a neon light a flashing. We needed to make our way to Piazza San Marco. I had no idea where we were and I could have opened a map like everyone else. But where are we on the map? So I asked our waiter the same question he gets asked every day, "Dove e Piazza San Marco"? (Where is St. Mark's Square?) He pointed to the right and off we went, me taking photos and Vicki and Brianna shopping in the small side shops. We started following the signs on the buildings directing us to "S. Marco".

How to Speak a Foreign Language in 30 Minutes that is Foreign to Everyone Except You

I learned from my travels to Caracas that it is a good idea to learn a foreign language. It's especially useful to pick one that the country you are living in speaks. While we were in Venice, I was having a much more difficult time talking with the locals. And then I began understand why. Back in Verona, the Italians I am getting to know, are starting to get use to my subtle butchering of their beautiful language. I had not subjected the Venetians to my command of their language yet.

As I matter of fact, our daughter finds great joy in making fun of my pronunciations of some of the words she knows. Anyway, I tried speaking what Italian I know and no one understood what I was trying to say. Not the Italians, English speaking people who could speak an additional 3 to 100 languages, or my family knew what I was trying to communicate. It's like I have created my own language. You could say I speak Italish. If mutts can be referred to as a designer breed, then why not a designer language?

Let me tell you that I was getting frustrated trying to remember the words Pimsluer and Rosetta taught me. I had those dialogues down while driving my 4Runner. What was that phrase associated with the picture showing me the lady buying a hat? Then, from out of nowhere, from the bowels of my brain a chemical synapses, a neuro connection if you will, reattaches itself. My mind resorted back to multiple Spanish dialogue phrases I learned in high school. It was like I received a Mexican brain transplant instead of my brother-in-law who makes that claim. After all, when my Italian isn't working, resort to equally poorly spoken Spanish. Right?

"Donde esta Susannah? En la bibliteca?" No asking if Susannah is in the library gets no response. I thought at least he would reply with the correct response that got me an "A" in Spanish, "No en el dormitorio?". How about "Si no abre la boca a las moscas no entraran." Which I remember my Senior. Martinez telling me, Senior Clark, this translates to "If you don't open your mouth, the flies won't enter." Ok, the flies entering the mouth isn't helping me either. What a relief to me and everyone else when I hear them ask me if I speak English.

Finally, Piazza San Marco

We finally made it to Piazza San Marco and it was well worth the walk. I split up with Vicki and Brianna so that they could shop and soak their feet in the water, and I could take photos of the piazza where scaffolding hadn't attached itself to the building like a leach. Actually, I would have included the scaffolding, but it wasn't centuries old like everything else. Besides, I can't remember seeing any scaffolding in the travel book photos I looked at before leaving for Italy.

A.D.D., Photography and Venice is not a Good Combination, Oh Look a Gondola...

We had a great time in Piazza San Marco, until reality hits. I'm not quite sure how we got here. Sure we followed signs and got redirected back onto the beaten path to get to San Marco, but what signs do we follow back to the train station? I do have a map and I now know where on the map "You are here" is.

To my defense, Venice is unlike any other place I have visited. I mean it's the stereotypical Venice that I have seen in photos and movies. Flowers fill every window box. Century old fountains in almost every piazza and campo. Did I mention I still had a map.

I mean, Venice is literally a mixture of stepping back into time with its buildings, walls, windows, doors, cobblestone streets, canals, gondolas...you get the point. Who has time to pay attention to where you are going when everywhere you look, I see something worthy of photographing.

So we broke out the map and figured we needed to follow our way back to the Rialto bridge. Now at least we had a plan. In addition to using some of the signs back to Rialto, between the three of us we were able to figure our way back by recognizing landmarks we had noticed from their shopping and my photos I stopped to take. It became a game of clues and it was some of the most fun the three of us had together ever. We would get to a corner and wonder which direction. One of us would say, that way because I remember looking at those lights or I remember shooting a photo of the laundry hanging, or I remember looking at the noodles.

Santa Lucia Train Station to Verona

Between the three of us, we went directly back to Santa Lucia with time to spare. I'm glad we didn't cheat ourselves out of the experience of figuring out our way back by taking the Vaporetto, the public water bus. I am sure all kinds of lists exist, listing the top whatever number of things to do in Venice. At the top of each list should be getting lost in Venice. Do buy a map of Venice just to humor yourself with thinking it will help.