Venice walkabout 3

Our fantastic dinner Friday night at Al Nono Risorto must remain undocumented as we took no pictures. We found the restaurant at 7.45pm, initially rejected an offer for an 8.45pm table, walked for 10 minutes without finding something else that looked as good, went back to request the reservation, drank a glass of wine in a more modern wine bar with hard rock music playing far too loud, then claimed our table. The dinner was relatively simple but fantastic, including the red table wine at 9 Euro a bottle.

Venice walkabout 2

It is, on the one hand, sort of unfortunate, if inevitable, that Venice has effectively become a town dedicated almost entirely to the tourist trade. On the other, of course, Venice was one of the ancient centres of commerce, so perhaps it was even more inevitable that it would return to that. The stores filled with glass and masks are, initially, eerie and spectacular, and then quickly fade into the tedium of repetition and lack of distinction. The street vendors hawking odd mixes of Italian-made and China-imported goods, despite a pedigree as old as the shopkeepers, significantly diminish the old-world charm.

Even in the off season the main thoroughfares are crowded, especially in the early-mid evening.

Venice walkabout 1

Saturday we spent most of the day walking around Venice. I also took some photos walking around Monday and Tuesday. Venice is so idiosyncratic, and yet so similar-seeming that it's difficult to segregate the photos by area or other themes. The photos of the Arsenale, where we had wine and dessert (despite the somewhat off-putting waitress) show the exception to the rule, of course. There's nothing like eating outside (despite the cool temps) practically at the feet of huge stone lions.

Walking the byways and alleys of Venice is fascinating, not least because a) while it's far too easy to get lost, it's just as easy to find one's way, b) there are beautiful churches, monuments, and architectural wonders/nightmares just an alleyway over, and c) there's always a lingering sense that at any moment it will all simply crumble into the green waters.

Pub night in Venice...

We were very lucky that our Italian hosts were available on Saturday evening to share a drink with us. They took us to a watering hole that was truly authentic, in that the owner had inherited it from his father and refused to change anything in it at all-- from the dragon hanging by its tail to the black and white pinup (of sorts)... We shared antipasti and a lovely vino rossi siphoned from huge earthenware urns.

It was relatively quiet, with Italian opera playing in the background, and the bar/restaurant owners spoke no English at all. Fantastic. But the company was even better.