(Dork alert: If you have visited Venice previously and don’t want to hear the hyperbolic gushing of a first-timer, feel free to skip this entry.)
If you have never been to Venice (as we had not), go as soon as you can! I’m not kidding. There was a time when I thought I’d never see it, but we did and it is truly indescribable. We walked and walked and walked for three days. It was exhausting, but ohmygoodness, it truly is a unique, special, unbelievable place in every way. We have posted a few pictures, but go and look and lots and lots of pictures wherever you can find them. It’s as real as it looks and in the moment and in the light, it is truly a magical place.
We docked around 7 in the morning and had breakfast while Italian customs did whatever they had to do with our passports and the ship’s crew. We were free to go around 9:30. The ship was docked at San Basilio port and we could walk over a little bridge right there and into the old, carless city. But there are LOTS of boats!!!! Gondolas, water taxis, private boats, waterbuses, yachts, sailboats, and plenty I can’t even identify. There is water everywhere and boats zooming or floating everywhere you look. Slow, lazy boats on side canals, big chugging Vaporetti on the Grand Canal with all kinds of smaller boats zooming by them. It’s true, it’s true! The streets in Venice are really made of water! The tiny paved or cobble streets are for walking, walking, walking until you have to sit down because your legs are about to give out. It’s so much fun to just walk and turn corners and cross bridges and look in windows and eat good food and drink good drinks. We did not ever go into a museum. The whole place is a museum. When we go back, we’ll be able to dive into the art and history museums and performances.
We knew that our only realistic goal this trip would be to just get a sense of the layout and ambiance and we did. The first morning, we walked to St. Mark’s Square via the bridge at the Academy del Arte. After lunch on the ship, we went on a Santana-arranged tour to the island of Murano, famous for glassmaking. They had arranged a special demonstration for us at a college of glass blowing, which was interesting. We also had some time to walk around the island, through the streets along the canals and browse the glass shops that were everywhere. Definitely needed a gelato break at one point.
The second morning we took a guided walking tour of the neighborhood closest to the ship, as far as the Academy. We saw a gondola repair shop and learned a lot about the palazzi that are, of course, everywhere you look. After packing up our bike gear on the ship, we set out again. Had a wonderful lunch of Panini/prosecco for me and pizza/Campari spritz for Joe sitting outside at a café on the Grand Canal. The weather remained spectacular. Another walk to St. Marks, some shopping, then a walk back to a rowing club where the McCready’s had prepared an elaborate reception for those of us ending our trip in Venice and their next group who were to take the trip in reverse order back to Dubrovnik. The old rowing club consisted of three warehouse-type buildings facing the lagoon, five bridges from our ship. There were old and current boats on display, along with a historical pictures and artifacts of the rowing club. Prosecco, other wine, bread, cheeses, meats, cookies, etc. were available in all three locations plus aboard an old boat moored outside one of the club’s entrances. Lots and lots of people with nametags either saying “Dubrovnik to Venice” (us of course) or Venice to Dubrovnik (them of course). Lots of bike talk and exchanging of information about the rides on the tour, blah, blah, blah. Our kids would definitely call it a dork-fest.
Back to the ship to pack for real. After our last night on the ship, we got our bags and bike through the port terminal, with lots of help from the wonderful crew, to a taxi that would take us to the mainland for a stay at the Hilton Gardens before our Monday flight. I had promised Joe that we would stay at the hotel and rest, but we got there at 9:30 in the morning and the choice was sit in the lobby for five hours or take the bus back into Venice. Needless to say a promise was broken. We hopped on a very crowded bus back to the Piazza Roma, and hopped on an even more crowded vaporetto down the Grand Canal to the Rialto Bridge. Had coffee and a croissant at a canal-side café and then slowly walked back in the direction of the transportation hub, shopping and eating as we went. Had lovely conversations with several shopkeepers. Joe especially enjoyed talking to a Honduran woman whose Italian husband convinced her to move there (how hard could that be?). Back on a not-as-crowded bus back to the hotel for a nap.
We did our homework and found a seafood restaurant for our last dinner in Italy (Europe!) that was well rated. Did not disappoint. What a great time we had. A plate of assorted raw fish to start; I had pasta with clams and Joe had the grilled catch of the day. The server brought out five complimentary plates scattered through the meal: some kind of raw fish amuse-bouche; tomatoes with olives and capers; melon sorbet, salad, liquer. Then we went off the chain with a whole dessert each: Amaretto custard for me, Tiramisu for Joe. It was crazy. Crazy good.
Real Talk:
Really, all that walking and taking in amazing sights, sounds, food and atmosphere was absolutely EXHAUSTING. But of course you have to say to yourself, I can rest later, this is Venice!!!! I was near tears, literally, from exhaustion while we were at the Santana reception at the boathouse. Too tired to enjoy any of it. I ended up sitting on a stoop while Joe went on the boat (the only place they were serving his beloved Campari spritz). There was a woman standing nearby who looked like I felt. She had just arrived from Seattle or somewhere out there and had a rough trip over. She was absolutely miserable, like me, but for different reasons.
We agreed to have no regrets about decisions we made to do or not do certain activities. That being said, in hindsight, we might have skipped the long smelly ferry ride to Murano and back. The whole outing took at least 4 hours. (And I was too tired to really enjoy any of it.) On the other hand, we probably would have choosen to take advantage of another special opportunity arranged by the McCreadys: private rowing lessons on a boat like the ones used by the rowing club (they sort of look like gondolas, but are not, we’re told). The “teachers” for these excursions for 2-4 people at a time, were young women members of their branch of the rowing club. Everyone who went said it was a wonderful, fun, and a surprisingly relaxing experience. Bill, in his pitch for us to sign up (included in our tour) was that it was as close to tandeming as any other sport he could think of. I guess he forgot about the two-men/women bobsleds, but we’ll let that slide. We were concerned that it would be too strenuous, given our state of tiredness at that point, so we opted out. It was also apparently a long walk to get to the starting location and a long walk back.
Of course, packing in a hotel after you’ve stuffed yourself to the gills and just want to fall in bed is no picnic. Neither is getting up at 6 to catch the shuttle to the airport and dragging seven suitcases, one being the size of a small house to the check-in counter of an unfamiliar airport. But, c’est la vie. Good bye, Adriatique!!!
If you have never been to Venice (as we had not), go as soon as you can! I’m not kidding. There was a time when I thought I’d never see it, but we did and it is truly indescribable. We walked and walked and walked for three days. It was exhausting, but ohmygoodness, it truly is a unique, special, unbelievable place in every way. We have posted a few pictures, but go and look and lots and lots of pictures wherever you can find them. It’s as real as it looks and in the moment and in the light, it is truly a magical place.
We docked around 7 in the morning and had breakfast while Italian customs did whatever they had to do with our passports and the ship’s crew. We were free to go around 9:30. The ship was docked at San Basilio port and we could walk over a little bridge right there and into the old, carless city. But there are LOTS of boats!!!! Gondolas, water taxis, private boats, waterbuses, yachts, sailboats, and plenty I can’t even identify. There is water everywhere and boats zooming or floating everywhere you look. Slow, lazy boats on side canals, big chugging Vaporetti on the Grand Canal with all kinds of smaller boats zooming by them. It’s true, it’s true! The streets in Venice are really made of water! The tiny paved or cobble streets are for walking, walking, walking until you have to sit down because your legs are about to give out. It’s so much fun to just walk and turn corners and cross bridges and look in windows and eat good food and drink good drinks. We did not ever go into a museum. The whole place is a museum. When we go back, we’ll be able to dive into the art and history museums and performances.
We knew that our only realistic goal this trip would be to just get a sense of the layout and ambiance and we did. The first morning, we walked to St. Mark’s Square via the bridge at the Academy del Arte. After lunch on the ship, we went on a Santana-arranged tour to the island of Murano, famous for glassmaking. They had arranged a special demonstration for us at a college of glass blowing, which was interesting. We also had some time to walk around the island, through the streets along the canals and browse the glass shops that were everywhere. Definitely needed a gelato break at one point.
The second morning we took a guided walking tour of the neighborhood closest to the ship, as far as the Academy. We saw a gondola repair shop and learned a lot about the palazzi that are, of course, everywhere you look. After packing up our bike gear on the ship, we set out again. Had a wonderful lunch of Panini/prosecco for me and pizza/Campari spritz for Joe sitting outside at a café on the Grand Canal. The weather remained spectacular. Another walk to St. Marks, some shopping, then a walk back to a rowing club where the McCready’s had prepared an elaborate reception for those of us ending our trip in Venice and their next group who were to take the trip in reverse order back to Dubrovnik. The old rowing club consisted of three warehouse-type buildings facing the lagoon, five bridges from our ship. There were old and current boats on display, along with a historical pictures and artifacts of the rowing club. Prosecco, other wine, bread, cheeses, meats, cookies, etc. were available in all three locations plus aboard an old boat moored outside one of the club’s entrances. Lots and lots of people with nametags either saying “Dubrovnik to Venice” (us of course) or Venice to Dubrovnik (them of course). Lots of bike talk and exchanging of information about the rides on the tour, blah, blah, blah. Our kids would definitely call it a dork-fest.
Back to the ship to pack for real. After our last night on the ship, we got our bags and bike through the port terminal, with lots of help from the wonderful crew, to a taxi that would take us to the mainland for a stay at the Hilton Gardens before our Monday flight. I had promised Joe that we would stay at the hotel and rest, but we got there at 9:30 in the morning and the choice was sit in the lobby for five hours or take the bus back into Venice. Needless to say a promise was broken. We hopped on a very crowded bus back to the Piazza Roma, and hopped on an even more crowded vaporetto down the Grand Canal to the Rialto Bridge. Had coffee and a croissant at a canal-side café and then slowly walked back in the direction of the transportation hub, shopping and eating as we went. Had lovely conversations with several shopkeepers. Joe especially enjoyed talking to a Honduran woman whose Italian husband convinced her to move there (how hard could that be?). Back on a not-as-crowded bus back to the hotel for a nap.
We did our homework and found a seafood restaurant for our last dinner in Italy (Europe!) that was well rated. Did not disappoint. What a great time we had. A plate of assorted raw fish to start; I had pasta with clams and Joe had the grilled catch of the day. The server brought out five complimentary plates scattered through the meal: some kind of raw fish amuse-bouche; tomatoes with olives and capers; melon sorbet, salad, liquer. Then we went off the chain with a whole dessert each: Amaretto custard for me, Tiramisu for Joe. It was crazy. Crazy good.
Real Talk:
Really, all that walking and taking in amazing sights, sounds, food and atmosphere was absolutely EXHAUSTING. But of course you have to say to yourself, I can rest later, this is Venice!!!! I was near tears, literally, from exhaustion while we were at the Santana reception at the boathouse. Too tired to enjoy any of it. I ended up sitting on a stoop while Joe went on the boat (the only place they were serving his beloved Campari spritz). There was a woman standing nearby who looked like I felt. She had just arrived from Seattle or somewhere out there and had a rough trip over. She was absolutely miserable, like me, but for different reasons.
We agreed to have no regrets about decisions we made to do or not do certain activities. That being said, in hindsight, we might have skipped the long smelly ferry ride to Murano and back. The whole outing took at least 4 hours. (And I was too tired to really enjoy any of it.) On the other hand, we probably would have choosen to take advantage of another special opportunity arranged by the McCreadys: private rowing lessons on a boat like the ones used by the rowing club (they sort of look like gondolas, but are not, we’re told). The “teachers” for these excursions for 2-4 people at a time, were young women members of their branch of the rowing club. Everyone who went said it was a wonderful, fun, and a surprisingly relaxing experience. Bill, in his pitch for us to sign up (included in our tour) was that it was as close to tandeming as any other sport he could think of. I guess he forgot about the two-men/women bobsleds, but we’ll let that slide. We were concerned that it would be too strenuous, given our state of tiredness at that point, so we opted out. It was also apparently a long walk to get to the starting location and a long walk back.
Of course, packing in a hotel after you’ve stuffed yourself to the gills and just want to fall in bed is no picnic. Neither is getting up at 6 to catch the shuttle to the airport and dragging seven suitcases, one being the size of a small house to the check-in counter of an unfamiliar airport. But, c’est la vie. Good bye, Adriatique!!!
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