Yes, Venice does have streets! On some of them you can’t tell that there’s a canal anywhere close. And it has squares. Once you get away from the canals peace settles and there are mostly locals, except for the occasional tour group. There are no cars and the roads may be cobbled or made of bricks. There are many narrow alleyways, some lined with homes and others just passageways to the next street or square. And sometimes there are trees, and parks. With no roads, you don’t see stop signs, traffic lights, or vehicles of any type. What you do see are people pulling or pushing large carts from place to place. It’s a whole other way of life and I wonder how it feels to have been born into such a place.
There are lots of old, old houses. There isn’t really anything new. There are also lots of renovation works, old cavernous and dirty spaces where people are working to bring yet another space up to scratch. As you walk along the canals, if you look up, you’ll see fantastically large rooms with very high ceilings and, if you’re lucky, art and tapestry hanging on the walls, and even magnificent chandeliers. (I tried to photograph one of these but it was dark and the image was blurred. Krish said it looked like there was a Chihuly.
Pictures speak louder than words…
And some street art. I’m not fond of Italian street art but there were a few…
As we left Venice, there was a nice farewell. While wandering around the University area of San Polo, an older man was engrossed with playing his violin-type instrument. Finally, a truly romantic view of Venice.
We’ve been to Venice before many years ago. At that time we weren’t very experienced travellers. I remember arriving and immediately seeing the Grand Canal and taking the vaporetto (a motorised ferry barge-like vehicle, one of the only ways to get around Venice) to our hotel. That hotel wasn’t so easy to find and the room was very old fashioned but it had a canal right under the window and, by peering out carefully, we could see the Rialto Fish Market. Venice was packed with tourists when we were there then. I’m fond of telling people that I felt I was in Epcot (not that I’ve ever been) instead of the real Venice.
So when we decided to go back – Krish really regretted not buying a mask the first time so – we thought we’d go in October when it was quieter.
Our train took three and a half hours to get to Venice.
The station had had an overhaul but it was obvious right away that there were tons of people in town. As we left the station, thankful we didn’t have to take the vaporetto this time, we walked straight into the crowd. The place was teeming and we were already wondering if we should have come at all.
We got off the crowded main street from the station towards the Rialto Bridge and St Mark’s Square as soon as we could. Immediately, you can feel the change. The streets are rough, the houses are simple, the bridges aren’t so grand and the canals are much narrower. This was more like it.
We were staying over in the Jewish ghetto and we knew from last time it would be quieter. Our directions weren’t very clear but Krish is a great navigator so pretty soon we found the place.
Our Airbnb was called Romantic Cannaregio. So was it? No way but there we were! (My review is included at the end, if you’d like to read it. Rewriting it here might actually depress me.
We ended up not being great fans of Venice. I think it’s somewhere everyone should see. It’s quite remarkable in many ways. However, it’s overrun by tourists, it’s very expensive and it just doesn’t seem like a real place, as noted. We were very lucky to be staying close to where real people lived and having the energy to walk around and explore. It’s a pedestrian and waterway city, with all of its inhabitants getting around in their various motorboats, as comfortable on the water as they are on land. Be prepared to walk your feet off even if you can afford the daily fare pass of 20 Euros a day!
Despite many misgivings, I took over 400 photos of the place. It’s definitely picturesque and I knew that from the last time. I’m going to divide my thoughts into various chapters and share some photos that show Venice as I saw it.
My review for Romantic Cannaregio: I was disappointed with my stay here. First off, we got no real directions or instructions. Based on the descriptions, I was led to believe that someone would meet me or be in touch once we arrived. Instead we had to navigate our way to the flat (which isn’t easy to find when you aren’t used to the Venice geography) and there were no real instructions on how to use anything. In retrospect the photos do show the place as it is. However, I think some very good lighting was used to show it looking brighter and more relaxed than it was. In fact, it was dark and airless, with a hard white tiled floor that makes it look clinical. There’s a large piece of a wall missing in the living room, the couch is extremely hard and slippery so impossible to relax on. The fridge dripped water constantly onto anything we put in there. The bathroom light wasn’t working and was so small, it was difficult to turn around. We had to really explore to find any soap etc. As well, whenever we showered, the bathroom floor got a small flood. I had hoped there really would be romance since we went to Venice for a special anniversary but it’s tough to do when you can’t even sit together in your own space without sliding off the couch. This is one of the only places I’ve stayed in that had no tourist information, such as a map, or an idea on where to shop or eat locally, etc. Finally, a real killer of romance – printed pages stuck on the walls with a little bit of info/The Rules. I felt like I was staying in a hostel or prison. The only saving grace was a comfortable bed and the location – within the ghetto area, which is interesting, charming and somewhat away from the constant sound of luggage being pulled around, and the staggering throng of tourists in the centre of the city.
We were staying in the New Ghetto. There’s the new ghetto and the old ghetto. The story gets a bit confusing. At any rate, the Ghetto of Venice is the oldest in the world.
In medieval times this part of the Cannaregio had a getto (foundry) pronounced jetto in Italian. Eventually the German Jews’ pronunciation took over, with the hard G it has today. From the 16th to 19th centuries it became the Jewish quarter. By a 1516 decree, all Jews were locked into the gated island of the Ghetto Nuovo (New Foundry) from sunset to sunrise. At night only doctors were allowed to leave, since they were known to be very good at their art. During the Spanish Inquisition in 1541, there was no place to put everyone and so people moved into the upper storeys. The conditions were awful.
Numbers kept growing and the Ghetto was extended into the neighbouring Ghetto Vecchio (Old Foundry). This creates the confusion where the older Jewish area is called the New Ghetto and the new is the Old Ghetto. At any rate, we were in the New Ghetto, on a street called Ghetto Novissimo.
When Venice fell to Napoleon in 1797 Jews were free to roam and the ghetto was briefly renamed the Contrada dell’unione. It didn’t last long – just six moths. In 1866 Venice joined Italy and Jews were emancipated. Then when the Nazis occupied Venice, many escaped but 246 were arrested and sent to concentration camps. Only eight of these survived.
In 1797 the French army of Italy, commanded by the 28-year-old General Napoleon Bonaparte, conquered Venice, dissolved the Venetian republic, and ended the ghetto’s separation from the city. In the 19th century, the ghetto was renamed the Contrada dell’unione.
Today, the Ghetto is still the main Jewish cultural area of Venice, although only a few of the some 450 Jews of Venice live here. There’s a museum, synagogues, and shops that sell food and Judaic items. The wooden gate surrounds are still there as reminders of the days when Jews were prisoners of the island.
On our street in the New Ghetto, on many of the door frames were indentations. They gave me pause.
They were unmistakably where mezuzahs (a parchment inscribed with religious texts and attached in a case to the doorpost of a Jewish house as a sign of faith) had once been. Had the tenants left and taken theirs with them? Had the tenants been turfed out? Had the mezuzahs been taken out to hide the inhabitants’ faith? Had they been removed by bigots? I don’t know but the indentations are there to remind us who first lived there.They had been there since the houses were built, imbedded as they had been in the frame.
Third time trying and this year I finally managed to get a cooking lesson in Torino. My source was Bonappetour. I’ll definitely check this again for the future!
The course I chose was Market to Table with Rosemarie. The plan – meet for breakfast, go to the market, cook, eat! This reminded me of Lucy’s classes in Lyon so it was familiar. Always a little cautious, I set off on Friday morning just about 8am. I couldn’t find a single way to avoid the dreaded metro but ‘go’ it was.
I’d done a little reading and, coincidentally, had stumbled over comments about Rosemarie and her cooking classes in other Torino blogs. That’s also how I discovered her blog! So when she walked into the little caffeteria, I knew her instantly. Accidental stalking pays off! We each had a pastry with pear and ginger and I had a ‘cappuccia’ – thanks to Rosemarie for teaching me that word.
The local market, Brunelleschi, is very small compared to Porta Palazzo and the markets Giovanni introduced me to but it’s got everything you’d need and it’s calmer and less rude. Rosemarie bought beans, pears, a cheese with peppercorns, some ricotta, five salted anchovies from Spain. It’s good to listen and pick up the market terms, hearing things that might be useful for me later. I was impressed by how the stall holders could make suggestions when Rosemarie told them what she was cooking. From here we moved on to a butcher where again they listened to the menu and knew what meat to cut up for stewing. And a generous stalk of sage, inside a twist of paper.
At the bakery, Rosemarie chose grissini and six crusty buns warm from the oven. At the wine store, they listened carefully to what we were going to eat and suggested the wine. As we left, Rosemarie told me they wanted me to have a biscuit – yum! I chose fig and nut.
Rosemarie lives on the third floor of a slightly older apartment building. We get there in a tiny lift whose doors are opened manually. I survive that risk too! The flat is large and homey. The whole thing is homey.
Rosemarie had invited another person over to help her with prep and cleaning. I’m surprised that it’s another Torino blogger that have I been reading, Sonia. (Did I find them through each other’s sites?) It feels a little odd knowing that I have had a glimpse of their Torino lives, while I’m a stranger. But it does feel like I’m among friends. That’s a good feeling.
It’s also a good feeling to have a helper while you’re cooking. Sonia set things out, cleaned up behind us, and was an expert hand with kneading the pasta dough. I learned a lot and I got to prep and help with the cooking. I’m pretty sure I could manage to cook all of these things with a little patience – not my strongest suit, going slowly.
The menu, as promised in email — Appetiser: acciughe al verde (Anchovies in green sauce) Starter: agnolotti al plin con burro e salvia (pinched agnolotti in butter and sage) Main: Fricandò di manzo (Piedmontese beef fricandò) Dessert: Pere cotte al vino (Pears poached in wine).
Four weeks today since we arrived. Ouch! We’ve done a lot yet not a lot. We’ve resolved to never come to a hot country before October. But it’s spurred me to start filling in ideas on my October calendar. This week – free admission days to museums, dinner with Liat’s family, and my cooking day – on Friday.
One of the mosquito bites, on the back of my wrist, is very itchy and swollen. I’ve put a bandaid on it so I’ll stop scratching. I am now scratching the bandaid…
And it rained. And rained. And rained some more. The wind got serious. The air was chilly. The temperature dropped more than ten degrees Celsius. We hunkered down but hoped it would clear enough since Krish wanted to go to a photography exhibit of Pop Art. And 1st October was a free admission day.
We put together a lunch out of what we had. No way to venture down to the market. We didn’t want to start our day already soggy.
The gallery is near Piazza Carlina. From there you can see the Mole looming. I heard that the NH Hotel Carlina has some lovely original features and also a wonderful staircase. I just feel uncertain though. When I get inside, there are three people in the unconventional reception area. I lose my nerve and can’t take photos of the interior.
Again, I’m not much for museums and art galleries so have a system that gets me through quickly but allows me time to look at something that may catch my eye. I can admire a painting or an artifact if it speaks to me and this exhibit, on pop art, may have more to say than most. I cherry-pick what I look at.