The carnival is over (Venice)

Yes dear reader, I am aware that I have used this title before but in this instance I have no choice but to recycle. The reason will become apparent as you read on.

I struggled to get the day underway. It was much easier to stay in bed and doze, but this is our last proper day in Venice. Tomorrow, Tuesday is a transit day from here to Rome airport for the night flight to Abu Dhabi and then on to Sydney.

There are still things that we have to do in Venice, although I'm not sure we would feel compelled to return. Today we planned to see some more of the Biennale exhibits and visit the Correr Museum (and not get lost). Well, as Meatloaf sang, 2 out 3 ain't bad.

It was another perfect day, blue skies, no cloud, slight breeze to keep the temperature down and negate the impact of the humidity. We had our usual breakfast downstairs at our local in the Campo and walked down the alley to the main walk along the canal. From there we turned towards the Venetian version of the botanic gardens, the Giardini Pubblici, except they hold the major Biennale exhibition there.

Lifestyles of the rich and famous, Venice style.

I'd like to say that it was pleasant morning's walk, but it wasn't, at least to commence. Flooding toward us was tour group after tour group, literally. They covered, in places, the entire expanse of pavement. Group after group, slavishly following their leader's little elevated rag on a stick. Disregarding any of the niceties of pedestrian behaviour such as keeping to the right. On one bridge we were forced to wait until they had passed because to attempt a crossing could mean being swept in the other direction and being lost in Venice forever.

I think he could do with a scrub and a weed.

It would appear that many of the marauding groups are day trippers. Yes the most dreaded and feared of all tourists. They arrive in swarms by boat, disembark and locust-like sweep all before them, making noises like the ring wraiths in Lord of the Rings. Anyway, we dodged them, and in a few short minutes were out the other side, boats and groups behind us, into a gentler, quieter part of Venice.

We walked slowly, with sufficient space to outstretch my arms should the mood take me. And it did. Down the Cal Garibaldi and into the gardens where there is an interesting fountain. Interesting only for its inhabitants, a couple of very large koi carp, some goldfish and many turtles. They are red-eared sliders, apparently an introduced species.

The entrance to the park, beyond the fountain, is a wide, tree-lined walkway dotted with benches for people to sit and chat in the shade. A very pleasant place to meet your friends. We walked the length of this boulevarde onto the the boardwalk that runs next to the sea. The vista of San Marco was very different from what we were used to and provided a better picture of the vision the original founders had of Venice. We wandered slowly, enjoying the lack of people and arrived at the entry point for Biennale. What we had thought would be random sculptures, works and installations scattered throughout the gardens was actually a series of permanent exhibition halls - closed Monday. Today is, of course Monday. Much like Mark Twain musing on golf as a "good walk spoiled" we felt the same. We turned for home.

Graffiti on a statue in the park. Christians share a different view.

Back home, we sheltered from the early afternoon sun because it can be very strong. Feeling rested and brave enough to battle the crowds again, we ventured out to get some cash and then to the Correr Museum. It was close to the apartment just at the other end of San Marco Piazza and there was an auto teller there as well. To reinforce my notion that it was almost time to head home, I joined the queue at the auto-teller only to realise that I hadn't brought Jayne's card. No problem I'll use mine and reached for my phone, also at home. Oh well, to the museum. We were walking up the stairs to the museum when it occurred to me that I had also left the camera at home. Really? Where was my brain?

The Correr, like the Accademia had a standing exhibition of renaissance era art works as well as a modern exhibition. It also had older works dating back to the Etruscan, Mesopotamian and Egyptian civilisations. Even Jayne commented that there are only so many religious paintings you can look at, so the camera was not really missed. They also had another interesting painting by Hieronymus Bosch, a Dutch painter we had seen at dell' Accademia. Critics talk of his detailed work and blending of creatures to create a bizarre hybrid. He obviously had a significant influence on the work of Monty Python cartoonist Terry Gilliam. Bosch' work is either influenced by drugs or he is just plain weird.

The modern exhibition was by Shirin Neshat, an Iranian artist who presented a photographic series and an interesting short film called Roja. The film explores the concept of longing for homeland and opens with a shirtless male figure miming the words of The Carnival is Over that is being sung by a female. Hence today's title. In the credits it states that the song is a Russian folk song from the 1880's and was only translated into English in 1965 when it became the signature for Australian folk group, The Seekers.

Venice has a tower with a lean  as well

One the way to the museum, one of the spruikers from a restaurant around the corner asked if we wanted a drink. I told him we would come in on the way back and we dropped in to have our first aperol. Quite a refreshing drop it is too. It was, like many of the restaurant/bars over here, relatively small, but it had an extensive menu so we thought we would come back for dinner. Before that, there was one last bottle of wine to be finished on the altana.

It was much funnier than the picture shows

Later in the evening we heard what was more than the usual sound of the gondoliers from the canal below. Jayne was surprised to look out the window and see a gondola coming from the opposite direction to what they usually travel. There was a line of gondolas heading in the usual direction down to the Grand Canal and one lone, brave gondola going against the traffic. We had assumed it was a one-way street. Certainly this man heading in the wrong direction was causing major issues and was getting a serve from every gondolier that rounded the corner. Part of the problem was the blind corner that needed to be negotiated. The number of people on the bridge increased as did the people watching from windows. The embarrassed passengers didn't quite know where to look, although at one point the female passenger looked towards our window and I gave her the thumbs up - which she returned with a rueful smile.

We cannot understand how this rogue gondolier managed to come the wrong way down the canal - the gondolier fraternity seems pretty tight - could even be a generational thing. The services run in very defined segments of the canal - it does not seem like you can just go wherever you like - you hire, you get on board, you are paddled around a specific canal route (serenaded or not depending on how much you are willing to pay) and then you alight.  Jayne wondered if this was the beginnings of the invasion of Uber gondolas in Venice? That would be a fascinating battle!

Dinner was pretty good - again. The food has been pretty wonderful from start to finish. Last night a caprese salad and calamari followed by lasagne and pizza. I dreamed of my bike last night because I think I need the exercise to help remove some of the excesses of the trip.

This will be our last post for a while, as I tap away at the keys we are on the Frecciarossa to Rome to transit to the airport and then Sydney. Next time I write to you dear reader will be from home in Redfern.

Deep water (Riomaggiore to Venice)

Riomaggiore

The time came for us to leave the Italian Riviera and we were both OK with that. The party that never ends, to borrow a phrase from Richard Clapton's lead into the live version of Deep Water, continued last night until 3am. My fervent hope is that those inconsiderate revellers had accommodation very close to the early morning garbage trucks or, at the very least, the clunking of our bags on the cobble stoned paths woke them as we left for our train at 6:45am.

Monterosso

There is no doubt that Cinque Terre has a natural beauty and a slightly fraying charm about it. The buildings are looking, like Jayne and I at the moment, a little tired and could all do with a fresh coat of paint. After visiting four of the five villages it appeared that there was a sameness about each of them in terms of what they had to offer. While that was OK, there was nothing to really keep us there for more than the three days I had allocated.

Vernazza

No doubt I would have a different perspective if I were living over here. It is a place where you can go and sit and relax and do nothing, but not somewhere you can get sleep. The nights were very hot and if the air was still, it became more problematic because you really needed the windows open and then of course there were those dicks who sat and drank at the harbour all night and didn’t mind everyone knowing they were having a good time. I watched a few of them staggering up the hill after 2:30 this morning, shouting their goodbyes to those who continued partying, oblivious to those trying to sleep in the buildings that towered above them.

We managed to get a booking at the restaurant recommended by our hosts on our last night. It was a fitting way to end our time here and the food was excellent. We shared a plate of octopus, followed by seafood ravioli and then a mixed grill, also seafood. Well dear reader, it was a seafood restaurant.

The trip to Venice requires a couple of train changes. Our initial train was 7 minutes late arriving at Riomaggiore and 5 minutes late getting to Sestri Levante. That gave us 10 minutes to catch the connecting train to Milan. As it turned out, we needn’t have panicked - the Milan train arrived on the same platform as we did from Riomaggiore and it was also running 5 minutes late. We changed from a regional to an intercity train and from 2^nd class to 1^st for the almost 3 hour journey to Milan.

We were slightly late arriving in Milan (14 minutes) but I had allowed 45 minutes between trains so there were no concerns. We are in Business Class for the last leg of the journey to Venice. The Frecciarossa would have us there about 2:30pm. It's a long day of travel, but it is easier and far less stressful than driving. So far, all my plans have gone like clockwork. This is the fourth country in which I have enjoyed high speed train travel and I can't believe the politicians are still procrastinating about it in Australia. After all, we have the wide open spaces and vast distances. It just makes sense, so that's why you'll probably never see it - at least in my lifetime.

As mentioned, the final train was about 15 minutes late getting into Venice. We exited the station and turned left as instructed and went to the water taxi rank. Where we waited for about 10 minutes for our pre-booked taxi to arrive. It's a very busy area and Jayne learned today just how lightly we actually travel. Two Indian families turned up with a porter from the railway and a trolley to hold their bags. The first family consisted of husband and wife and they had 4 large bags between them. I glanced down at our one medium sized bag and my carry on. The next couple also had a pre-teen child and they had 6 bags! Amazing.

Into our taxi and out onto the Grande Canal. The water taxi was recommended by our hosts and while there are significantly cheaper options, it is a great way to meet the fabled Venice. The trip to our accommodation in San Marco occupied about 20 minutes and we saw all manner of interesting things that hopefully we will re-discover as we walk around and get lost in this unique city.

From the dining room window

Anna met us at the pier and walked us through to our accommodation. Another top floor unit - I just can't help myself, but we have a terrace which will provide an uninterrupted view of the fireworks on Saturday night. Don't be afraid to get lost, we were warned. It happened on our first outing, but that's OK; it just means we discovered some really interesting shops. Masks and glassware abound.

Gondolas, gondolas and ...

We found the supermarket and a wine shop. The wine shop sells wine on tap as well as the bottled stuff. You just turn up with your empty bottles: glass or plastic, it didn't appear to matter, and then you choose your wine and get a refill (I hope to get pictures). Can you imagine that in Australia? The nanny police would want to close it because it wasn't hygienic enough, or the discounted prices encourage drinking, or just because it is a bloody good idea. We didn't have any empties, having just arrived, so we purchased the more standard fare.

Venice from our terrace

Dinner was at Da Jonny, recommended by Anna. Excellent. The food was superb, so much so that we have booked for later in the week as well. Once again we shared a couple of smaller plates, scallops and ravioli before having separate mains. Jayne had fish and I had duck breast - they must have been huge birds, I could barely eat it.

Then it was back home for a glass of red on the terrace in the breeze. I think we are going to struggle adjusting to Australia's temperatures when we return. I paved the way to the terrace, or altana, as I believe it is called in Venice. The sun was setting, the seagulls were wheeling in to settle for the night. Jayne turns up and says, "I just looked out the window at the road and thought, gee, the road is wet. It must have been raining". OK, a canal can't get much wetter and it is a road (of sorts) for boats. You've gotta love her. We laughed about that until the mosquitoes tried to carry us away.

Good night dear reader.