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.

Buongiorno Venezia

Arriving in Venice, the journey from airport to city is like no other ...

The water taxi hurtles across the open sea, churning up waves in its wake; in the tilting landscape the city emerges, much the same as it must have looked to arriving travellers arriving by sea centuries ago.

In the Grand Canal the morning traffic is picking up ...

... a honeymoon couple are just up, and taking in the view from their hotel room balcony

Facades lining the Grand Canal all fading, elegant grandeur ...

There's calmer waters in the smaller canals, but it can be a tight squeeze ...

 ... and will we really fit under these bridges?

These people seem to be wondering the same thing ...

Could this be the most romantic dress shop in the world? I fantasise about working in a place like this, arriving by boat every morning ...

I'm always astonished by the deep blue-green colour of the water in Venice canals - it can't be that clean, so how does it manage to look so beautiful?

Looking up the narrow steep sides now, the buildings are less grand but every one seems a thing of peeling, layered history 

and if you crane your neck right up, the rooftops are things of detailed beauty in themselves

Images of gondolas and gondoliers floating down canals are clichés of course ...

... but when we finally arrive at our hotel we find the back views are of a gondola parking-lot

where it's time for a gondoliers' morning tea-break and a bit of a chin-wag in the sun ...

Buongiorno, Venezia ... now it's time to unpack and explore.


Photos taken early this month, on a jubilee weekend escape; more to follow.

What (who) I'm reading now

William Boyd is one of those authors whose latest books I’m always excited to read. Restless and Any Human Heart would have to be on my list of all-time favourite novels.

Image source: www.blogarrebatado.com

His latest, Waiting for Sunrise, opens in Vienna in  1913, where Lysander Rief, a young English actor, has come to seek psycho-analysis for a sexual problem with a contemporary of Freud (who we meet briefly in a Viennese kaffeehaus later in the story). A pretty young fellow-patient sorts out his problem rather satisfactorily, but Lysander’s liaison with this slightly unhinged and dangerous young woman leads him into serious trouble with Austrian law.

                           Image source: my own, taken in Vienna December 2011

His successful escape from Vienna in disguise (helped by his acting skill) brings him to the attention of the British secret service who recruit him for spying. By now World War I is in full flow and the story sees Lysander gadding about from war-besieged London to the front lines in France and on secret missions across Europe to trace a traitor in the British War Office. 

The basic theme is of an ordinary person being caught up in dramatic historical events – something Boyd did brilliantly in Any Human Heart. Certainly Lysander Rief starts off an unpromising hero – a pretty, well-off, slightly wimpish young man fairly certain of his place in life. As he’s thrust unwillingly into a series of extraordinary events, he becomes both more self-reliant and less sure of anything, negotiating his way through a slippery world of assumed identities and fake personas. “Nobody really knows what’s real, what’s true” says the traitor he’s engaged to unmask, while Lysander’s actress girlfriend tells him “We’re all acting, aren’t we? Almost all the time – each and every one of us?”

                                       Image source: www.waterstones.com

Both the galloping plot and the cast of characters are hugely entertaining, in rich Boyd style. I especially liked his female characters – from Lysander’s mother to the various younger women he attracts (sculptor, actress, secret agent), they are all strong, substantial and interesting personalities. The only disappointment for me was the ending  -  ultimately too few of the threads connected and I was left frustrated by unanswered questions.

You can hear William Boyd discussing the story here. 

This would make a wonderful film - one can only hope that someone is onto this, after the excellent BBC mini-series of Any Human Heart which showed last year. I also hear that a film version of Restless is in the making.

       Scenes from the BBC mini-series version of Any Human Heart, from www.guardian.co.uk

  

And on an entirely unrelated note ... and though I'm no great royalist ... while scanning the BBC's highlights of the jubilee celebrations after returning from spending the weekend away, I did find myself quite touched by this scene here - of the group of RCM chamber choir singers on a rocking boat in the middle of the Thames managing to belt out Land of Hope & Glory with quite such enthusiasm and gusto, despite being completely drenched in the sheeting rain that washed out the river pageant on Sunday. It's a uniquely English moment - do click on the link to watch, if you haven't already seen this.

Jolly Jubilee

As everybody knows, the Queen's Diamond Jubilee celebrations are coming to a head this weekend and she's kindly given us two days of holiday.

                                      image source: www.telegraph.co.uk

There are unusual displays of patriotic fervour everywhere and London has gone wild with flags and bunting ...

                                     image source: London Evening Standard

The queen and prince Philip have been frightfully busy showing their appreciation ...

                                    image source: London Evening Standard


They even came to my garden!

... where these scenes (from last weekend) serve as proof positive that the sun has finally come to Britain ...

(even if the forecast for this Sunday's pageant and parades is for rain and chill again)

Seize the day, I say, and happy jubilee weekend to all, whatever the weather.

City of angels

I'd forgotten the crick in the neck you get in Prague from looking up all the time.

This city has more angels and saints guarding it than any other I know ...

Doorways of old houses are topped by allegorical symbols (see here for an earlier post on this)

Walking around the old town feels like walking through a series of old oil paintings ... (count the saints in the shots below)

then lower your gaze and it gets even more interesting ...

A lone musician playing in the street seems to be from another era ...

... as do the beggars on every other street who prostrate themselves uncomfortably - a new sight for me - in silent supplicant's pose ...

Are they meditating? I noticed this one was (meditatively perhaps) scratching his dog's chin!

I couldn't cross the Charles bridge without snapping at the views, always changing in different lights, but here at dusk ...

Oh trdelnik, how do I love thee ... hot off the coals, from street vendors all over the city, these cinnamony confections get rolled on sticks over an open flame, the smell irresistible ...

This one kept me going on a hike up to the castle on foot ...

... where the Battling Titans make an awe-inspiring entrance to the world's largest ancient castle, seat of the Holy Roman Emperor ...

The door to St Vitus cathedral ...

the incredible interior of St Vitus a vision of dancing suspended angels and golden jewelled stars ...

On my last day the sun came out, and so did Praguers - here enjoying the spring sunshine on the banks of the Vitava (there was music playing somewhere nearby - something you hear a lot walking around in this city) ...

and on Petrin hill, students brought their homework to the grass and park benches ...

A final image from the foot of Petrin hill, where I found David Cerny again - his Disappearing Man sculptures showing a gradually disintegrating figure of a man

Goodbye amazing Prague