Viva Venice

AFTER writing about our Italy trip, mainly on Rome, last week, I immediately got an e-mail from Sara (last name withheld), an incoming Grade 5 student, who asked: “Did you go to Venice? Did you ride a gondola? Was it scary? I have Scott’s travel books (Tokyo is my favorite). What are Scott’s favorite places and things in Italy? Is Scott going to write about Italy also?”

Yes, Sara, we went to Venice, we rode a gondola, and Scott’s favorite place in Italy is Venice.

The city is magical. Speedy water taxis and leisurely moving gondolas ply canals big and small, narrowly missing each other by just a few centimeters.

But the gondola is perfectly safe. In the Middle Ages, thousands of gondolas journeyed up and down the Venetian lagoon, with its calm waters. Gondolas were used to transport people and cargo.

Today, gondolas are mainly tourist attractions, and a good way to view the sights along the canals. The ride was not scary at all.

On a gondola, we passed many bridges, the most famous of which was the Rialto that spanned the Grand Canal. Legend has it that the Doge (king of Venice) commissioned many architects to build it, but no one succeeded until the builder Antonio da Ponte made a pact with the devil. The bridge would be built, but the first person to cross it would belong to the Underworld.

The Rialto was finally constructed in 1588. As for the pact, who knows?

In the Middle Ages, inclined ramps made of stone led to a central portico on the Rialto Bridge that housed a tiangge (butchers, candle makers, goldsmiths). Today, the bridge boasts of glitzy shops—Murano glass, Pinocchio wooden toys, Armani haute couture.

Fat pigeons

Scott’s favorite things in Venice were the pigeons in St. Mark’s Square. St. Mark is the patron of Venice. Scott says, “The first time I glimpsed St. Mark’s Square was from the water taxi as we were going to our hotel. It was amazing! The entry to the square was bordered by water on one side and land on the other. Instead of taxi stands, there were taxi docks. The piazza (or square) is slowly sinking along with the rest of Venice, at the rate of one centimeter a year, like a modern-day Atlantis. Occasionally, with heavy rains, the whole square gets flooded. Every hour, the bell tower tolls, and every night, a live band plays. And then there are the pigeons.

“Oh, the pigeons! Chubby, cute little things. As soon as a crumb falls to the ground, a pigeon is there to eat it. Some overweight pigeons could not fly high because of years of devouring leftover pizza crusts and bread. When you go to Venice, continue this tradition! Get bread crumbs and spread them around you, and have a picture with a flock of pigeons.”

Lost in Venice

For me, the best part of Venice was getting lost in the labyrinthine alleys where, long ago, Casanova cavorted with multiple consorts, Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley penned satires and poems, and Roger Moore as James Bond and Angelina Jolie fought off enemies in “From Russia with Love” and “The Tourist,” respectively.

One morning, a dozen of us tailed our guide through the Venetian passageways. Suddenly, a bust on top of a doorway appeared, a mini square in a courtyard, a quaint bridge over a dead-end.
Sure enough, a couple in our group soon got lost, so caught up were they in taking photos of this wondrous place.

“Long ago, sword-fights and murders were common as the sun went down,” said our guide as we ducked into still another narrow passage, “but now it is safe.” Indeed, even when we roamed on our own, the byways of Venice seemed safer than the boulevards of Manila.

Scott says, “When you are lost, use the St. Mark’s bell as a landmark. Or follow the signs on the alleys that point to St. Mark’s Square or to the Rialto Bridge. Sooner or later, you will find your way back.”

Fresh glorious food

Italian food is world-renowned, for good reason. We ate our way through Italy. Glorious, fresh, irresistible pizza with buffalo cheese and cherry tomatoes so ripe the juice oozed out when we bit into it (in Pepperone restaurant on Via Venetto in Rome, staffed by Pinoy waiters who said, “Italy is just like the Philippines”). Tiramisu so light that it seemed we were feasting on air (in Pennello, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant along Dante Alighieri Street in Florence, frequented by locals and chanced upon by our tour mates from New York). Gelato with flavors so brilliantly blended that every bite tasted like heaven (in the Frigidarium, in another out-of-the way street somewhere near the Piazza Navona in Rome, recommended by the website TripAdvisor).

For two splendid weeks, even as we sampled a panoply of dishes, my sensitive stomach never acted up. The ingredients were fresh, olive oil was abundant and practically no chemical additives were used.

Yes, Sara, Scott will do a travel book on Italy next year. Now he is writing about Philippine travel spots. Watch out for his next series on Manila, Cebu and Davao, which will come out in a few months.

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