At home in Venice

I’ve been to Venice before, in my twenties, many years ago. Both times I stayed at a bed and breakfast place in an old palazzo in the Ca d’Oro part of the city. Lovely place, right on the Grand Canal, with a view of the Rialto Bridge. In other words, the prime tourist area of the city. The first time, in September, it was overflowing with them, even back then. The second time, in March, it was the same, but wet. (Slipped crossing St Mark’s Square and landed on my ass more than once.)

We arrived in Venice last Friday evening. Our host had very kindly left us a bottle of prosecco and some bread and cheese. But, like our arrival in London the week before, I really needed to get out and feel like I was in Venice. (Hard to have the feeling when you’re navigating your way around with heavy suitcase – why the fuck did I pack so much?)

Found a couple of restaurants and, one street over, beside a canal, a bar.

After I posted this photo, a friend commented that it looked like we had the city to ourselves. Not by a long stretch, but the difference this time is that I am based in an apartment in a solidly residential area of Venice.

Yes, the part of Venice where clotheslines crisscross from one side of the street to the next. Where the streets are so narrow that, in the summer with the windows open, you can hear the conversations of everyone walking past.

This is “our” street, Calle de le Ancore.

Last year, in France, our Air BnB accommodation was two rooms (plus bath) separated from the rest of a large house owned by the charming Phillipe and Sylvie. I didn’t feel as if I was depriving anyone of a rental home. In London recently I did feel as if I was robbing someone of a home – especially after my mate Rowan told us quite a few of the flats in that building were Air BnBs.

I am having a bit of that feeling here, but I must admit I am also loving feeling as if I actually live in Venice. There are functional shops, the sort you find in areas where people live – supermarket, pharmacy and (yes, somewhat unique to Venice) the fruit and veg boat.

Sadly, no clothesline from our window, so the laundry had to dry on a rack. I don’t think I can claim to live here if I don’t have a clothesline. Oh, well.

Decided to be tourists on Sunday. Went to St Mark’s, took a picture of the church and sat down to consume the requisite overpriced drink in the square.

Off to the train station Monday morning to head to Vicenza for the day. Why?

That’s right! We were getting together with Joe and Georgie (she’s hiding under the table). He is halfway through a three-month trip around Italy, which very happily placed him a short train ride away from us in Venice.

Oh, and we got to see some of the Palladian buildings that have made the town a World Heritage site.

We’ve now had two action packed days of ART! at the Biennale. I can and should and hopefully will write more about this, but for now I will simply share one of my favourite moments from day one.

The discovery that the Russian government could not find a civil servant willing to issue it a permit to open its building to the public.

Too bad the Israelis and the US didn’t have the same problem.