Our 5th anniversary - in Venice

September 11 - 16, 2003

I am talking, of course, about my beloved client. They are about to award us the whole shebang, and it looks like I'll be heading it up. We're off to Venice to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary, and coming to this lovely city allows me to take a break and really decide whether what's back at work is what I want.

This morning started earlier for some than for others - Scott was snoring especially loudly last night. The combination of that (I could hear it through my earplugs) and my work worries put me awake around 12:30 am, and I tossed and turned till about 4. Then I showered and roused The Boy around 4:30.

The sun was still an hour away when the car picked us up for Gatwick at 0530. The ride is about an hour, but it's no hassle at that time of the morning and we're delivered to the North Terminal without having to take the monorail. At check-in, my BA gold card does its magic and we relax a bit in the first class lounge. Then it's a longer than expected trip to the gate, as we accidentally went to the wrong one, but we made it in time for the bus trip to the plane. It's a small plane (737), but business class is only half full at most, so we're quite comfortable.

We're off on time at 0740 and are due to arrive at Marco Polo airport in under 2 hours. As we fly over Europe, the sky is spotty with clouds. Below, first the Rhine, then the Alps, dominate the landscape.

As always, we had a good time planning our trip. My brother flew through London (almost literally - he was only there for 48 hours) last weekend and accompanied us to Stanford's - apparently the world's largest map store, just off Leicester Square - where we had our choice of over half a dozen Venice maps and literally dozens of guide books. So now we are armed with 3 maps (one came with our book) as well as two books - an AA explorer which is chock full of yummy eye candy, and an architectural guide with more of the same. And my colleague (and boss!) has recommended a restaurant for our anniversary lunch on Friday - the famous Locanda Cipriati, on the outlying island of Torcello.

We're not exactly rolling in the dough right now, so this is meant to be pretty much a budget trip.

"Budget trip? Nous? To Venice?"

Well, here's the deal: the business class tickets were free (except for the £50 tax) thanks to frequent flyer bonuses I've racked up at work. Scott found what we hope is a wonderful flat with terrace overlooking the canal for just €110 a night. We can spend our luxury budget on our anniversary lunch and then eat 'Spag Bol' at home the rest of the time! ('Spag Bol' is the British Lad's way of saying Spaghetti Bolognese - the only thing all British lads know how to cook!) The rest of the time we plan to mostly just walk and look, though I wouldn't be surprised if the odd lunch or cocktail sneaked on to the schedule.

It's an odd feeling to fly on September 11. We're certainly not afraid, but of course we can't help but think about what happened 2 years ago. Some people have expressed surprise that we were flying on the 11th - I'm not sure if they were frightened for us, or whether they thought we were being disrespectful or something. We certainly don't feel that way - we think that celebrating our life together is a perfectly appropriate way to spend the day. It was nice to hear the BA cabin crew talking to each other about the moment of silent reflection that they were planning later in the day to mark the exact hour of the attacks.

TB already has the transportation figured out - the 'Alilaguna' water bus into town. It takes nearly an hour and a half, but it's a very pleasant ride, and the price is only €20, rather than the €90 we'd have to pay for a water taxi. We are blessed with gorgeous weather - in fact it's a bit warm in the waterbus - and it's packed with tourists coming for the weekend. We stopped at the outlying island of Murano (where I was ripped off by the Seguso Glass Factory six years ago), then the Lido (one USENET poster writes: 'don't stay on the Lido - it's like going to New York and staying in Jersey City' - our guidebook agrees) then at Arsenale east of the Piazzo San Marco. Predictably, most of the passengers get off at San Marco, but we carry on to Zattere, the last stop and just by our home for the next 5 days. Scott managed to mispronounce his very first Italian word by not putting the accent on the first syllable of ZAT-tere.

There's not a cloud in the sky, and the colour of the water is just as I remembered it - 'bluish-green' is an inadequate description. And I swear the air is golden.

In spite of what looks like chaos, the handsome and rakish bus driver and his one man staff know exactly what they're doing with the randomly piled luggage. We kept a sharp eye on our bags, since they were nearest the gangway, but they stayed on until Zattere.

We were only off the boat for about 60 seconds when Roberta, the rentals manager, showed up. A lovely young woman - early thirties and businesslike, she walked us the 100 metres or so along the waterfront to the flat.

The Zattere, just in front of the apartment

Scott and the view from in front of the flat, across the Guidecca canal

Jo in the courtyard	View up the staircase
The kitchen, with doorway to the terrace	Living room

We are psyched!

While settling the accounts with Roberta (which she insisted be carried out in 'cash only'), Scott noticed that she'd made a 'mistake' concerning the damage deposit that would have cost us €100 had we not caught it. Hmmm. Funny how these 'mistakes' always seem to work against the customer. Apart from that, though, we are completely sold on the idea of renting an apartment if we're going to be longer than three days in any given city. Not only is it cheaper (we figured that a comparable hotel room in Venice would probably be 10 times as much money), but you also get to save money by cooking your own food. But apart from that, there's something about opening that gateway into your private courtyard that makes you feel more a participant in the city than a mere observer.

We've been given the keys and we're off - with a vague intention of getting to the Rialto market for vegetables, but mostly just to explore and get a feel for the city. We walk through 'our' courtyard of colourfully planted flowerpots and exit right onto the Zattere - the broad promenade that borders the very wide Guidecca canal.

We try generally to make our way toward the market, hence the right turn outside the gate (a left would take us toward Santa Maria della Salute - a church about which some interesting history later). After about 20 metres we dodge into a 'street' - really nothing more than a narrow alleyway with a name - and emerge at Santa Maria anyway! Now we're hungry, and I spy the Hotel Europa across the church courtyard and the Grand Canal, wistfully thinking of the exquisite snacks I've had on the canalside terrace. We start back to find the closest of the three bridges that cross the Grand Canal (the Ponte dell'Accademia) but find a cafe just round the corner, so we decide to sit, drink, and eat. So it's toasties, draught Becks and a gentle warm breeze under the dazzling blue sky and sun.

We're sitting in a wide alley at the cafe at #128 Rio Terra de Catecumeni, one of 11 tables under 5 umbrellas. The inevitable Americans and Brits at the adjacent tables are competing to see who can best exemplify their countries' stereotypes. We decided that of the stereotypical behaviour, the Americans are preferable, since they're at least kind-hearted, rather than so snobbishly sure of their own superiority.

Looking alongside Sta. Maria della Salute across to the Hotel Europa	Street from our Cafe Table
Scott with typical plaster and brick building	A younger Allie?

Canalside Flowers - Approaching Accademia

Venetian Architecture along the way (with typical leaning tower)

Ponte dell'Accademia

View from the Bridge Towards Sta. Maria della Salute

After crossing The Grand (not the same as climbing The Grand, but great views nevertheless!) we wander on - now with an increasing sense of purpose, as we see a darkness in the west that seems to be coming our way. We still want to find the Rialto market and then make a trip to the grocery to fill in the culinary gaps. And after twisting and turning, Eureka - we find it!

Of course, one is warned as one nears the Rialto bridge - the posted signs do help, but I'm talking about the 'warning' of the increasingly expensive, high-end tourist shops. Lovely linen, fur, Armani and just really expensive gorgeous stuff. But the trademark tourist item to buy in Venice is the mask. The mask shops are everywhere - similar to the ubiquitous T-shirt shops in other tourist towns, but much nicer and more interesting to look at.

A Venetian Mask

But it's up and over the hump, through the two rows of shops that line the bridge in order to wrest their 'toll' from those who cross. Laid out below us as we begin to descend is a sea of market stalls - but no food, just tourist junk (we found out later that the food market closes at 1 pm). And wave upon wave of tourists.

We inexplicably neglected to take a photo of the bridge, so here's one I've 'borrowed' from elsewhere.

Rialto Bridge (Built 1588-1591)

We can't follow the Grand forever, since the footpath doesn't extend all the way along the banks, and we've given up looking for the food market, because the sky is telling us to get a move on. The black clouds are getting darker and much closer. Now we start following signs that we 'think are right' and resist using the map. After all, how lost can we get? It's an island! (well, OK, lots of islands). And it's getting darker.

Then there's a bluster of wind, and all the cafe and stall owners are pulling down the protective covering over the windows.

I was a fan of the movie Twister, and I also remember the Easter storm of Grand Rapids in 1964 ('65?) - and I've lived in Nebraska, so I know what tornado clouds look like. TB says that when the first heavy drops of rain start to fall we'll duck into the welcoming light of the closest bar. Then he says: "I've heard that there can be dramatically severe thunderstorms here in September". Now he tells me.

We give up any semblance of watching where we're going except to head for anything looking like a well-lit bar. Crossing one more small stepped bridge, I look up.

I see a grey/black swirl of cloud start to funnel - I'm glued to the bridge. It's so curiously beautiful and slow-moving - how can it be dangerous?

Storm clouds over the canal

View from the Bridge Ominous, but fascinating

Jo waits out the storm

We finally do pull out the map and figure out the way to the store - with an eye to laying in some good Italian supplies, then heading home to our idyllic Venetian flat.

TB and I now sit on our tiny (but ample enough for us) terrace with the blue sky above, terracotta and the courtyard below - a wall just tall enough to rest our elbows, wine glasses and weary arms as we gaze out over the canal.

Chianti on the terrace

This market is fairly good-sized - about the same as the Tesco at Hammersmith. Lots and lots of stuff that we consider gourmet (bresaola, pancetta, chianti, biscotti, bruschetta, etc.), and plenty of choice. There's wine in a box, packaged like the juices we see in the London stores, but we're afraid to buy it, since it costs only €1 per box - I can feel it eating away at my stomach just thinking about it! There are about 50 different hams in the butchers deli - and they're ready to slice them for you if you don't want the prepackaged variety.

Buying produce off the boat

The ham counter in the grocery

Schlepping groceries on the Zattere

The first we'd observed on the water bus coming in from the airport. He is truly ancient. Stooped, frail and reminiscient of Gandhi, except for his jaunty dress. He is able to manage himself down the steps and into his bus seat, however. His companion is a blonde, at least two generations younger, but by no means a 'young thing'. We think it's a grandfather/daughter. We saw them again during our wanderings, and now a third time at the pizzeria, speaking German at the next table. I mention them only because it's fun to speculate about who these people are and why they're together in Venice.

The second couple that interested us was seated just two tables away - she American, he British and both now living in Connecticut (perhaps I should say here that we are accomplished eavesdroppers). Scott wants me to mention them because of their unfortunate plight - they ordered one thing, received another, and then had the gall to point this out to the staff, who were truly unforgivable. The waiter and manager came over to argue with their guests and tried to tell them that they'd ordered something else. But they stood their ground, these tourists from Connecticut, and so they were punished. They had to wait a good 20 minutes before their proper order arrived, pointedly delivered just after the exact same thing was brought to an adjacent table who'd ordered it just 5 minutes ago. Bad marks for this restaurant (Cafe Gianni, on the Zattere) in spite of the fact that the pizza was very good indeed.

Cafe Gianni on the Zattere Good pizza, argumentative staff

I had a really good night's sleep.

Friday, September 12 - our fifth anniversary!