Veni. Vidi. I Broke Venice
Italy: the third to last day. These are the voyages of the Doherty family. Their ten-day mission: to explore strange new towns, to seek out new cities and shops, to boldly go where 10,000 tourists have gone – usually at the same time as us.
It was going to be a really early start to the day, so we set all the phone alarms, hoping not to sleep in.
We needn’t have bothered.
6am and an almighty clap of thunder sent shockwaves through the apartment, as the second impressive lightning storm we’d seen passed right overhead.
Now this caused us a few problems, given that we were going to walk to the train station. It was raining…not just raining, but like someone had turned a tap on and left it running! An Uber was booked, but didn’t turn up…and the one umbrella in the apartment was actually already broken.
So we waited for a suitable lull in the downpour and hot-footed it up the hill. Making it in plenty of time, and somehow not soaked through, the day seemed to get off to a pretty good start.
Add to that, that we made our five-minute connection in Verona in time…things couldn’t have been better. We were on our way to Venice. I was really looking forward to going there – it was my first time!
An hour and a bit later and we were pulling into the city I’ve long waited to visit.
Stepping off the train, the cloudy conditions had stopped the temperature climbing too high – and it was quite pleasant. I knew that wouldn’t last – but take the small wins where you can.
Stepping out of the station, you are instantly hit with what makes this city so special; impressive architecture, canals, modern water taxis, and gondolas.
The camera just begged photos to be taken. I’d love to go back and shoot professionally – but I was there taking family snaps to remember the trip by.
I didn’t want to hold Monica, Connor, or Avie up…so, I played tourist photographing everything that moved…and, well let’s be honest, didn’t move!
Walking through the streets, the tiny bridges were all delightful, but seeing the big ones – like the Ponte Di Rialto – was just awe-inspiring.
The gondolas beckoned, and handing over €90 in cash (they don’t seem to take card payments – at least not the one we took), the four of us were ushered onto the long thin boat. I stepped on last – and in keeping with the clothes shopping “fat man” incident, the boat started to lurch to one side – like it was about to follow the Titanic to the deep dark depths.
Avie moved from the end to one side, so that I could sit in the “middle” of the boat; but as I did so, the gondolier stepped onto the boat and made it lurch even more violently to one side.
My instinct was to grab something to save myself from being ejected over the side…so I grabbed the nearest solid looking object – the back of the seat I was attempting to turn and sit in…except it wasn’t that solid…and the decorative seat back came clean off in my hand.
I was in pure survival mode at that moment with the boat still rocking violently from the owner bouncing around on one side somewhere behind me. I dropped the wood back and grabbed the seat itself, saving myself from plunging head-first into the water.
As he stopped moving, I was satisfied that I no longer faced the prospect of swimming with the fishes. I picked up the seat back, holding the shiny black and gold embossed wood in one hand.
I did what any sensible person would do in the same situation, I tried to put it back in place, like it had never happened. The problem was, that the seat back wasn’t fit for purpose…it was attached to a thin piece of metal in the middle of the boat by one screw…and there was no way of propping it up to sit in place.
The gondolier took it off me, glowering first at me, and then at his now broken boat. I sat down trying not to catch his eye…if I did, I may still sleep with the fishes! I was hoping that it had happened before, and that it would be a quick fix.
The half hour tour proceeded in silence…I think he was supposed to tell us all about the bridges, the buildings, and the history around the route we took. The only concession he made to his vow of silence was to point out Marco Polo’s house – I believe he invented a game, or something.
Marco may not have gone further than his local shops for some stuff – I’m not sure…as our tour guide wasn’t talking to us now.
Getting off after the 30 minutes, we thanked him, and I melted quickly into the large crowd as he began to complain to another tour guide next to him – rather embarrassed at my little faux pas…it seems I’d broken the very essence of Venice.
I was also a little embarrassed by the 40 degree list the boat had throughout the tour. I think I need to start my diet…Monday. Yes! Monday this next week! It’s pencilled into my diary of good intentions.
Gondola ride done, it was now time to find St. Mark’s Square, see the Basilica Di San Marco, the Doge’s Palace, and take in the Bridge of Sighs (the Ponte dei Sospiri) . We navigated the close, crowded streets; but with the cloud cover lifting…and the temperature starting to soar…it was thirsty work! Turn after turn navigated, we eventually reached the arches at the top of the square and eagerly followed the crowd through them.
We had reached the awesome Piazza San Marco, just in time to see a local guide tell off some Americans for sitting on the steps. It was also the first time we’d stepped back into the full glare of the punishing sun…with it inflicting the full fury of late 30’s temperatures.
I say this sort of thing about small eye-popping cricket grounds all the time – but Venice is a place everyone should visit at least once in their life.
The square, the basilica, the streets…all just ooze history.
The Bridge of Sighs…well…erm…meh from outside!
I know the history/lore…the prisoners, one last look at Venice, and them sighing at their last view. But being honest, it’s a little small and underwhelming. I thought the bridge you stood on to photograph the small disappointment…was far better!
Yes…it was meh! Now if you’ve got there, looked at it and sighed in disappointment…then I understand the name better. If you’ve been…do you agree with me? Let me know.
We’d skipped breakfast, and a hungry teen was now becoming hard to ignore. So, lunch was sought – the eye wateringly expensive St. Mark’s Square fine dining establishments were discounted instantly due to potentially having to pay for the string quartets playing live while the patrons dined…as well as the minimum €50 cost for each item on the menu.
Instead, Connor bought a copy of Vogue magazine – long story and not one I am going to go into here, apart from mentioning ‘a girl he is seeing’. ‘Nuff said’.
A few streets away from the string quartets and we found a restaurant with lower heart attack inducing cover costs…and actually, it was quaint and felt like a restaurant from the early 1900’s – maybe it hadn’t been decorated since then???
Connor ordered a McDonald’s Pizza off the menu, which appeared to be a cheese pizza with chips on it! He smirked when he ordered it, and Monica and I simply tried to sink as far down into the seats as we could…in total embarrassment.
I tried a sample slice having berated him…and I cannot believe I am going to write this next few words…only to find it wasn’t that bad! Christ on a bike! Chips on a bloody pizza!!!
Lunch had, we went exploring and shopping. Some tourist tat bought…we also got some nice glass figures, some glittery Venetian masks, some sweets…nothing out of the ordinary, but just about right for our gifts and memories.
By now, we were racking up the bridges…there seem to be so many! Then another drink…and one that seemed like Venice itself was extracting revenge for my destructive start to the day. We headed into a small bar near the Rialto Bridge and ordered three small ice creams, three beers, and a coke zero…the bill came to nearly €100!!!
My eyes are still watering due to that cost!
[Future Mark typing my notes up…I am going to have to go to therapy just to be able to talk about that particular drinks stop…mother of god it was expensive!]
More exploring the chaotically laid out narrow streets, and we soon had to find our way back to the train station. We enjoyed the walk through the final few small narrow streets, over the last few bridges…occasionally coming to a dead end or the side of a canal with no bridge [obviously where you can get on your boat – unfortunately, I’d left mine at home].
Claiming four seats together on the train, we made it back to our Airbnb okay…before making some pasta and going through the bounty we’d bought from the Merchants of Venice.
Tired, it had been a long day…we decided against heading down to the port at 10pm for a wander and a few drinks…gratefully hitting the hay and falling asleep quickly.
I dreamt of being on the gondola…and this time not breaking it!
[Just to clarify - I was being a little over dramatic above...A screwdriver and a simple screw would reattach the back to the single piece of metal...so no real long lasting issues, and I'm certain that wasn't the first time it had come off!]
The Weather wasn’t forecast to be nice on Tuesday, so we decided to sort out our packing, get the apartment tidied up, and plan the trip down to Verona the next day.
Washing and packing sorted, we checked out the cost of an Uber to take us to the train station in the morning (to book it early, it was €40 – way too expensive); the cost of the train; where to put our cases for the day; how to get into the city centre; and the bus to the airport.
If you are doing the same sort of thing…the cost of the train from Lake Garda to Verona is very cheap for a family of four. There is a bag drop in the train station by the entrance and costs around €50 for the day(ish) - for three bags. The bus station is just outside the front door of the train station…easy to find…and the cost negligible to go the short distance to the Arena Romana (I seem to remember any bus numbered 11, 12, 13, 15, and something like 51 will be fine to climb aboard and head into the city). You know when you are in the city centre, as you will see the amphitheatre…get off and explore from there.
Planning done, it was a quick nip into Desenzano to look at the market there; and then got lunch. It was a good few degrees cooler and I for one was very grateful.
A few small items purchased, we headed back to the apartment to do the final few things we needed to do, and stay out of the heat of the hottest part of the day…before heading back down in the evening for our final game of people watching, a few drinks, and a stupid amount of ice cream.
On the way back, we called into the Chinese next to us [for the first time] and were pretty disappointed by the vegetarian choices.
If we wanted frogs...then they had that covered…but had to settle for the tofu chilli main and vegetable fried rice. It went down a storm as we sat on the veranda watching a real electrical storm skirting the town.
We had a few jokes at our own expense…before wandering inside to read.
This was the very definition of a really slow day…the sort of nowhere to be and nothing to do day…meant to recharge the batteries.
The highlight of the evening had been watching a really self-absorbed person filming themselves in front of us, ignoring everyone as they twirled and filmed a TikTok, miming the words to the song being streamed from their phone [much to the annoyance of several groups around us]. Dressed to the nines…they looked the part, but were taking themselves way too seriously.
If I could give a bit of advice to them, for what it’s worth…relax, just have some fun, don’t take yourself so seriously…and for god’s sake…smile. It’s not about creating an unrealistic image of yourself, to be projected to people you don’t know.
We bumped into them a little later at the bar, and they still looked as if there were putting on a show for others! We, on the other hand were in ‘having fun mode’, and being silly.
It was kind of sad, as we trudged home up the hill for the last time…in 24 hours we’d be on an airplane heading back to the UK and Ireland…and the real world.
As a holiday, it had been a mixture of fun and logistical nightmare. However, with less than 24 hours left, we’d risen to every challenge, and hadn’t screwed up too badly! Monica had done magnificently with the bookings and planning.
Visits to Rome, Lake Garda, and Venice…with Verona still to happen…had been fantastic, with Venice being a standout (even if I had broken the very beating heart of the city – I certainly didn’t want to find myself walking over the Bridge of Sighs and into the prison).
However, I’m getting ahead of myself…there was still one day left, and more memories to make.
Addendum:: Someone (in the family) may have made a complaint about leaving the hallway light on at night for bathroom visits…as it apparently had kept ‘him’ awake all holiday! Not wanting to call that person out in anyway…but he snores when he is awake! Must be congestion or something!!!
And my watch strap broke…so the ongoing step competition between Monica and myself has had to be abandoned and declared a draw! Well…that’s what I am telling her!
Reigning family steps in a day champion, Mark has written extensively about the strategies for getting as many steps as possible in on any given day, and those articles have now been read by at least 12 people.
Okay…not as bold a set of claims as in previous days, but I still don’t think that I can claim that the opening sentence above is true in any way…which is a sad reflection on my life! I don’t even think 12 people will read this article!!! [if you do read this far, please leave a comment below]
In reality, I am a photojournalist that specialises in sport and news coverage within the UK and Ireland. I am available to photograph and write for you – so please do get in touch if you want to discuss how we can work together in the future.
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