A day on the Venetian lagoon

The day starts well with coffee and cornetti at an outdoor café in the lovely Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo ...

... also known as the campo delle meraviglie (square of marvels) because it houses both the Scuola Grande di San Marco (detail of its gorgeous facade with patiently-waiting dog below left) and the Basilica San Giovanni e Paolo (below right) where no fewer than 25 doges are entombed. 

Unfortunately I was only able to take a couple of pictures inside the basilica before being politely ejected for wearing a sleeveless dress, hence not being covered with due modesty. (Mea culpa - I should have known better; my daughters, dragged around cathedrals from infancy, had thought to bring scarves).


We head off past the Scuola (below, now a hospital - like no other I know!), alongside the canal ...

passing a lone gondolier ...

and a villa to dream of ...

This one would do nicely too ...

... one's laundry and transport both sorted, ma certo!

Our destinazione: the lagoon, to the vaporetto station of Fondamento Nuove, to catch a boat to the islands ... 

(No, not this one, but the Maria Vittoria, anchored nearby, was much prettier than the vaporetto).

Just under an hour later we hop off a tightly crowded boat to explore the island of Torcello in the north end of the Venetian lagoon

Torcello is a bit like a ghost island - there are no cars and a tiny population of well under a hundred people. But it used to be a thriving city: way back in the 5th century it was settled as a refuge by people escaping barbarian invasions. By the 10th century it had a huge population and was far more powerful politically and economically than Venice. 
Hard to imagine now ... as the lagoon around the island turned to swamps, and a breeding ground for malaria, it was gradually deserted ...

leaving behind these lush, semi-abandoned gardens and ruins, surrounded by the green swampy lagoon and an eerie quiet ...

... as well as the basilica of Santa Maria Assunta, which goes back to 639 AD and has awe-inspiring Byzantine mosaics lining walls, ceiling and floors. Nothing about the outside of this place prepares you for the beauty and grace of the inside. Sadly I have no photos - not because I was thrown out this time, but because photography is strictly forbidden. But see here for Jan Morris's lyrical description in the Financial Times of both the island and what she calls "the most moving church in Christendom".

We have lunch on the island, in the garden of Locanda Cipriani ...

right under the pergola below, a setting we might never want to leave

and even the long wait on the jetty and a hot, crowded vaporetto ride back to Venice seems a small price for this day on the lagoon.