ARRIVEDERCI ROMA

 

after one wonderful year...

 

 



 

 

or...

 

 

or, perhaps more accurately...

 

grazie per tutto bella roma

OUT AND ABOUT: rome commonwealth military cemetery

to be honest with you, i was feeling fairly peeved.

i had spent ten minutes ringing the buzzer at the entrance to monte testaccio with no response. i was hot and i was frustrated. all i wanted was to see a glimpse of one of the thousands of testae (potsherds) that were dumped here between the 1st century BC and the 3rd century AD making monte testaccio a monte. giving up and briskly walking down via nicola zabaglia with an immensely dissatisfied look on my face, i was soon distracted by nature's heroin: the smell of freshly cut grass. following my senses, i walked towards this open green space and pushed the gate open with ease (take note monte testaccio). it felt like utopia. it was the most peaceful place i had ever been to in rome. and the most unusual thing? it was just me. just me, the lawnmower and 426 graves.

it was the rome commonwealth military cemetery in which lie the bodies of 426 members of the three armed services. the next hour was one of the most moving hours i have spent in italy. i walk past the pantheon, st. peter's and the colosseum most days of the week, but there was something about these humble tombstones that made more of an impression on me. i am 23, and what struck me most was that the majority of the soldiers were of a similar age. these tombstones were not dedicated by spouses but by parents. from parents to their children.

i thought of the centre of rome: the queues for the gelaterie, the heaving vatican museums and the thousands of people posing for photos in piazza navona and at the trevi fountain. i couldn't help but ask myself: why aren't they all here? admittedly, i wouldn't have been there if i hadn't stumbled across it, but intrigued, i looked at my most comprehensive guide book to see what it had to say on the cemetery (blue guide. buy buy buy). in 639 pages, only 2 lines were dedicated to this haven; i couldn't help but feel a little angry.

so here i am telling you all to go. you must. pay your respect to these sailors, soldiers and airmen who died for us and who died at the peaks of their lives. just around the corner from the cemetery is the bustling via ostiense where noisy romans shout about coffee, pasta and transport strikes. but here, it is pure tranquillity. i kept thinking to myself, 'at last you are all in peace'.

to the world just one,

to us all the world.

good night, god bless you.

14257928 trooper.

l. j. gould.

46th (liverpool welsh) royal tank regt. r.a.c.

1st march 1944.

age 28.

for more information on the cemetery visit: Cemetery Details

FEATURE OF THE WEEK: the queen's diamond jubilee in rome

i know it's a st. george's flag and not a union jack ('todis' supersaver supermarket were all out of blueberries), and i know its kate middleton and not the queen, but it's the effort that counts right? i bet no one else was celebrating the diamond jubilee on the appian way today.

elizabeth, this one's for you...

MINI-BREAK: florence-bologna-ravenna-ferarra

for my 16th birthday present, my wonderful dad hired my dream car for the weekend: a royal blue smart car. so when the opportunity came around to actually drive one from rome to emilia-romagna (the 16th birthday treat was simply for passenger purposes), i jumped at the chance without 2 second's thought. in those 2 seconds, i may have considered: a) a lack of satellite navigation, b) the fact that i was driving from the middle to the top of italy on the wrong side of the road, on the wrong side of the car and in a semi-automatic, c) italian drivers, d) the 15, 000 euro charge for every mile of the autostrada used, e) the fact i couldn't enter the centre of any historical city on wheels, f) the small, one way, impossible, cobbled streets of italian towns, g) my own temper, and h) the well-being of my companion. oh well.

first stop florence. this part of the journey felt as though it was being carried out on a cloud. it was 28 degrees, i was surrounded by beautiful italian campagna, i had chubby checker on volume level 20, an arm on the window, and a packet of haribo on the passenger seat. despite arriving an hour and a half late for my travelling companion (alarm clock had been set for 8pm that evening), i parked the car, hopped on the tram and before i knew it, i was standing in front of the duomo in florence in a summer dress with wet feet, an umbrella in my hand and a smile on my face. i have only been to florence once for five days, but i do feel as though i have been there, done that, got the 4000 photos. so it was nice to have the pressure off and just meander the streets, shops and churches of this beautifully clean and historical city. after seeing the fantastic sunset from san miniato al monte (above the piazzale michelangelo; much quieter up there and worth climbing a few more steps), gorging on red wine pasta and tiramisu at osteria de' benci (yum by the way), i was one satisfied ragazza.

arriving late that night to bologna, we appeared at the communal breakfast table the following morning to hear that we had both slept straight through an earthquake that was level 6 on the richter scale, whose epicentre was just kilometres away. apparently the hostel had been all over the shop and i hadn't even flinched. later that day however we got our comeuppance. whilst admiring one of the largest basilicas in town during sunday mass, a blood curdling scream in the congregation turned me into mufasa and the church-goers into a herd of water buffalo as everyone rushed to escape through the basilica's entrance. as well as aftershocks, we unfortunately felt the presence of nature in the grey skies and heavy rain in bologna. but we were the ones laughing as the continuous network of porticoes around the city kept us nice and dry. sort of.

the university, founded in 1088, is one of the oldest universities in the world. there is no doubt that bologna is a university town; with cheap eats, on-the-go piadina cafes and a young, buzzy vibe, it couldn't be doing anything else than accommodating student life. i have to be honest, nothing in particular wowed me massively but the city certainly has a lovely feel to it. one thing i did notice in bologna, was an abundance of circular niches. Usually placed high up on buildings, with figures leaning out of them as though from a round window, they reminded me of some roman tombs where the faces of the deceased are place into circular frames:

i even had a whack at it...

on sunday night we were recommended a fantastic restaurant si chiama 'osteria dell' orsa'. truly italian in both content and style, we chose from the two fresh pasta dishes on offer. on the one hand, little choice is good for me (aka the world's most indecisive person), but on the other hand, my food envy is out of control and so the fear of choosing the wrong one... pudding was a delicious tiramasu without the su. so just marscapone. washed down with a 7 euro litre of vino rosso we were as content as anything.

ravenna up next. having been told twice that it was a 30-40 minute drive away, we both felt fairly frustrated arriving 1 hour and 45 minutes after leaving bologna. borrowing the sat nav from our wonderful hostel owner seemed like a fantastic idea at the outset but if i ever hear the words 'gira a sinistra' once again i will 'gira a sinistra' and smack the closest person to me. sat nav feuds aside, our day in ravenna certainly morphed from miserable to marvellous. rain turned to sun, ghostly streets became glittering mosaics (on purchasing an 11 euro ticket that allowed us into 5 of the 8 unesco world heritage sites. can you believe that there are 8 in ravenna? beyond me...) and roman tombs became places in which to take a break (see below).
ravenna is an extraordinarily glorious place and i would advise anyone and everyone to visit. briefly the capital of the western roman empire (that is instead of ROME. big. bloomin. deal.) and then later the seat of the byzantine government in italy, ravenna is sweet and unassuming but its chapels, churches, baptisteries and mausoleums all have the potential to blow ya maind. trust me, mosaics aren't usually my cup of lapsang, but ravenna really is very spectacular indeed. and if you've had enough, make sure you get to the basilica of sant' apollinare nuovo where hidden within the tesserae is a fashion statement 14 centuries ahead of its time:

making it back to bologna through what i thought was the apocalypse (worst rainstorm i have EVER been caught in. and i'm english...) i then spent an hour and a half parking the smart car nearly killing a couple of men, a dog and my passenger on my way. lovely stuff.

tomorrow was to be even more of an adventure, we would climb one of italy's tallest towers (and a fairly precarious one at that) and we were to head into the epicentre of the earthquake...unintentionally. playing a fantastic game of 'would you rather your girlfriend had a moustache or hallitosis', we zoomed passed a sign saying 'sant agostino' with a red cross through it. low and behold we had passed through the epicentre of the earthquake and had only realised after flying out of the other side. yikes. arriving in ferarra it was hard to be so ignorant. there was red and white tape, JCBs and cracked walls everywhere. i felt like i had just walked onto a murder scene.
the city of ferarra really is beautiful and the water-filled moat surrounding the castle (one of the only few left in europe mind) is a wonderful focal point. finding a park, hopping on some swings and having a last platter of tagliatelle bolognese (traditionally not spag but tag. bet you didn't know that one. 'tag bol'? it could work), i prepared myself for the long journey back to roma.
other than stopping for tre caffe, listening to my cd 5 times on repeat and taking a wrong turning before getting to rome to a place called flaminia whose wooded lanes told me the only thing in the close vicinity was a cimitero or a cemetry, the trip went lovelily.

hercules beating the centaur nessus, loggia dei lanzi, florence.

a 21st century caravaggio no?

ponte vecchio at sunset, florence.

'a lactating nereid', or to a 21st century audience, a fembot. fountain of neptune, bologna.

basilica of san vitale, ravenna.

basilica of san vitale, ravenna.

sarcophagus fun.

gelat-i

gelat-ii

sant' apollinare nuovo, ravenna.

arian baptistry, ravenna.

arrivederci bologna.

FEATURE OF THE WEEK: translation wonders

whilst galavanting around tuscany and emilia-romagna last weekend (blog post coming soon...) i stumbled across this little translation gem. directly translating italian to english is one of my favourite things to do. up until now, my favourite has been 'una doccia a telefono' meaning showerhead, but directly translating as 'a shower telephone'. makes sense doesn't it? but whilst scanning the pudding menu in florence, i fear it may have been beaten by the most adorable fantastic bestest translation in the world ever:

FEATURE OF THE WEEK: the cardsharps

in england, i used to wake to the sound of cooing pigeons. in rome, i wake to the sound of 'the cardsharps'...

since moving into my new apartment a month ago, not a day has gone by without a card game being played outside my window. usually the same two men go head to head, and armed with their cards, they play for hours on a small wooden table which moves around the square as they please. as the hours pass, various people come over to see what all of the fuss is about. At the game's climax, crowds of men surround the table and the noise is so deafening that i would probably feel more relaxed lying on the sand of the colosseum with a gladiator's sword at my neck and 50,000 people screaming at the emperor to turn his thumb horizontally...

so why do i call them my 'cardsharps'? this is actually the title of an early work by caravaggio, and one of the first of its kind portraying low-lifes in 16th century roman society. note the man in the photograph on the left hand side is doing exactly what the man at the back of caravaggio's painting is doing (see below): spying on the opponent's cards and gesturing (lets imagine this part is happening in the photograph) the number that should be played by his friend. david hockney argues that caravaggio was the world's first photographer. if hockney is right, then this basically makes me and caravaggio the same person right?

perhaps not. but seeing as the 'cardsharps' in my piazza are up there on my list of favourite things about living in rome, we must have some things in common...

EXHIBITION: tintoretto

until the 10th june, balanced on the top of the quirinal hill, you will find tintoretto. unfortunately, the genius himself left us on 31st may 1594 and the last of the tintoretto family died in 1657, but as melania g. mazzucco tells us in the text in the final room 'they left no offspring. only - but perhaps this is everything - their works'. so here, in the 'scuderie del quirinale', we find tintoretto's offspring.
the old stables provide the perfect exhibition space with a naturally divided interior reached by a fantastic sweeping stone staircase. once fininished with tintoretto and all of his wondrousness, the journey back down to the ground floor gives the visitor what is probably one of the best views in rome. unfortunately my experience was tainted somewhat by a group of middle-aged gaggling women pressed up against the glass; but from what i could see through the blowdries, twinsets and tweed jackets, rome was looking pretty good.

jacopo robusti (more commonly known as tintoretto) was a man who liked to involve everyone, it seems. in his paintings, we see the plasticity and fullness of michelangelo's human figures, the deep penetration of space used by raphael in the vatican apartments, and the loose brushwork of contemporary venetian painters such as titian, bassano and el greco; his clientele included doges, but also the lame; and of course, his paradiso which resides in the great council hall of the palazzo ducale in venice includes no less than 500 figures.

but although tintoretto desired to be 'everybody's painter', he miraculously manages to create his own unique style. he often places his figures 'on stage', with dramatic backdrops and signifant levels of action. if we take the miracle of st. mark as an example:

here, we see st. mark descending from heaven to free a slave from torture after he had disobeyed his master in order to worship the saint's relics. as soon as our eye falls upon this painting, we become 'the audience': the action is happening right before us on a stage framed on all sides by temples, scenery and standing with us, other viewers (see bottom left corner). it reminded me of ancient greek theatre. not only did the greeks often set their theatres into the edge of hills and mountains in order to create a beautiful and natural stage set, but they also used an advanced system called a mechane which was a type of crane that enabled characters on stage to be lifted into the air. the effect was called deus ex machina, literally meaning 'god out of the machine', and it was adopted by a number of greek playwrights to represent the deification of certain characters.  st. mark swooping into the scene, and indeed other flying figures by tintoretto, reminds us of this greek theatrical tradition. so what does this all mean? well, we all know (spero...) that renaissance or rinascimento means 'rebirth' in reference to the emanation of classical culture in the 15th and 16th centuries. so whether it is conscious or subconscious, what we see tintoretto doing here is defining this term 'renaissance' pictorally by harking back to the traditions of ancient greece. secondo me...

on the other hand, whilst adopting this unique style, there are definitely elements of other artists work in his own. this got me thinking about the development of technique and style between one artist and another, leading me to see why caravaggio was perhaps so controversial... had anyone used a famous roman courtesan to model for a painting of the virgin mary before? no. had anyone decided to plunge their figures into complete darkness, lit only by a severe spotlight? no. he really was the first one to throw a massive spanner in the works. however, if we have a look at the following three paintings, we can recognise a strong thread between each artist's style:

perugino panel in sequence of the life of jesus in the sistine chapel, painted between 1477-1483.

raphael's school of athens, painted between 1510-1511.

tintoretto's st.mark's body brought to venice, painted between 1562-1566.

as well as seeing common ground (literally...) in the development of painting, i also noticed that a lot of the subject matter treated by tintoretto is not far off from the goings on of our own 21st century world. take his joseph flees from the advances of posiphar's wife, in which we see joseph rejecting poor old posiphar who lies naked and humiliated on a four poster bed; rejection being a subject matter  with which we are all familiar (not speaking from personal experience at all...). or if we look at his fantastic painting showing vulcan walking in on venus and mars having an affair, i could think of only two words: ryan giggs. and finally, something i found highly amusing, was a portrait done by domenico robusti, tintoretto's son. hung towards the end of the exhibition, next to tintoretto's last few works where his painting is of a mature style and subject matter, is the portrait of a woman bearing her breasts. in this painting, finely executed for a man of his age, a woman is shown in profile doing what it says on the tin: flashing. for me, this struck up a similarity between 25 year old men in the 16th century and 25 year old contemporaries of mine in the 21st...

the only difference is, it was domenico's sister...

for more information on the exhibition, as well as others taking place in the scuderie del quirinale, visit Scuderie del Quirinale.

FEATURE OF THE WEEK: tuesday, chooseday

are you unemployed at the moment? working part-time? (this sounds like one of those self-help adverts). whatever you are doing, if you aren't in full time employment, it is ALWAYS hard to get a balance of worki-ness and free-timey-ness (sounding less like one  now). that is why i have invented chooseday: monday, chooseday, wednesday, thursday, friday. unfortunately this pun does not work in italian; martedi not rhyming quite so well. even the americans may find this one a little tough with their 'toosday'. but for us brits, tuesday chooseday works wonderfully.

so what is chooseday? chooseday is a day that i have created for myself. it is not for work. it is not for job-hunting. it is a day for me to 'choose'. maybe i'll choose a museum or exhibition (likely...). maybe i'll choose the theatre. maybe i'll choose to go up the empire state building, ride the london eye or climb kilamanjaro (these are perhaps not such easy options to complete in a day in rome). but i have decided to create this day so that in the potential few months i have left in this fabulous place, i manage to see as much as possible as well as getting on with work and school during the rest of the week. and its structured fun. love a bit of structure.

it is important not to get bogged down with whatever one is doing, but to step back and EXPLORE one's surroundings. for me, living in a foreign city that is full to the brim with culture, this isn't hard. but we must remind ourselves that wherever we are, exciting goings-on are happening right around the corner, its just a matter of putting a 'chooseday' aside to experience them...

UNA GITA: ostia antica

when i labelled this post 'rome-ing around... the rest of italy', i was really living up to my exaggerative reputation. ostia antica is as much 'the rest of italy' to rome as the uffizi is to florence. what i mean by this, is that you can reach ostia antica with a 1 euro metro ticket and a 20 minute train ride from piramide station on the blue line. molto facile. thus, i couldn't bring myself to title this post 'MINI-BREAK' but have instead entitled it 'UNA GITA' or 'A TRIP'; much more appropriate.

in mary beard's much talked about recent bbc series entitled meet the romans (mainly commented on by a. a. gill with regards to his controversial opinion of beard's appearance as a television presenter) , she takes a day trip to this well-preserved ancient harbour town which, in its heyday, formed strong and important connections between rome and the rest of its empire. [just a quick NB at this point, i was shocked to hear that italy imported ALL of its olive oil in ancient times? spain and north africa were the suppliers for this; and along with wood, leather, grain and dye, rome received this from its neighbouring town, ostia]. beard had significantly hyped up the city for me, telling me that it is unique in an every-day-roman-life aspect as opposed to the splendours of the imperial monuments and buldings that are dispersed throughout rome. now i don't know if it is because i have recently visited pompeii and herculaneum, or whether ruins have now become as mundane to me as zebra crossings, but i liked ostia; i didn't LOVE it. but i know that this is just because i am spoilt. from an objective perspective, for the 'ruin virgin' (...sounds a bit odd) it is a fantastic spot. a quiet, bird-tweety haven just outside of italy's version of bradford (ostia, the modern town, is reputed to be far from beautiful). its size and preservation in relation to its proximity to rome shocked me and certainly humbled what i thought was a sightseeing addiction, making me feel embarassed that this was the first time i had been here in seven months.

the incredible condition of the scavi did make me think, in relation to pompeii and herculaneum, how much difference actually did the lava preservation make to the towns? obviously they were anomalous in that they had been untouched since 79AD when excavations started (whereas ostia was extended, developed and inhabited up until the 18th century), but what we have with ostica antica is a roman town, not dissimilar to those that lay in the shadows of vesuvius; just minus the fiorelli casts and preserved eggs and loaves of bread. a strong hint to humankind's morbid interest as opposed to it's historical curiosity me thinks...

highlights for me involved morphing oneself into a statue by standing behind those beheaded by the papacy on the via delle tombe, the theatrical masks by the theatre, the insulae (or apartment blocks) which enable one to see the cramped living conditions for the majority of roman people, and of course the mosaics for which ostia is famous. unfortunately the large, impressive mosaics in the baths of neptune were covered by large sheets of tarpaulin, leaving the (albeit fantastic) mosaics in the portico by the theatre to constitute ostia's whole mosaic collection. the piste de resistance however, were the latrines. mary beard famously sits on these and talks about the romans 'all s****** together'. i thought i'd give it a go...

so all in all, i give ostia 7/10. a fantastic escape from rome's busy-ness (but then so are the baths of caracalla?), easy to get to, culturally enlightening and a great place to get some photos for the family album...

for both historical and practical information on the site, visit Ostia Antica. to watch mary beard's meet the romans, visit BBC iPlayer/Meet the Romans (only available to residents of the UK).

MINI-BREAK: venice carnival

if i'm going to heaven, please god, could this be it?

venice during carnevale is one of those things that if you haven't done in your life, there is no way you can be wholly satisfied. now i know carnival in italy finished over a month ago, but as you can probably tell from the few-and-far-between posts on my blog, i have been a busy bee. scusami. despite all of this, there is absolutely NO way i am going to ignore this wonderful three day trip, as it has been one of the major highlights of life in italy so far.

the word carnival (or carnevale in italian) is derivative of the latin words 'carne' meaning meat and 'vale' meaning farewell. so 'farewell to meat'... now this seems a fairly appropriate term for a festival that takes place in the pre-lenten period, after which roman catholics would traditionally abstain from pleasures such as meat, dairy and fruit. however, having spent three days in venice during this period, the word carnevale does not strike up the image of a meatless world for me. instead, i see MASKS, i see COLOUR, i see GLITTER, i see COSTUMES, i see another era, another sphere, a DREAM WORLD.

having nearly missed our flight because i forgot my beret, realising the lady checking our tickets at easyjet was someone i had met before, and then listening to some fantastic minibus tunes in our shuttle from the airport (michael sembello's maniac. could i have been given a better welcome?), we eventually arrived at a derelict campsite near venice. whilst checking in and receiving the keys to our 'cabin', it was comforting to hear that the two ladies in front of us had no blankets, no heating and wet beds. fearing the worst, we teased our door open to find a simple, tiny, dry and hot portacabin room. it wasn't the four seasons, but for 15 euros a night during high season and booked only one week before, who were we to complain. having had just a few haribo smurfs to sustain us during the easyjet flight, it was time we found a pizza. now, despite all of its conveniences (or should i say its one convenience: price), camping fusina was a sorry sorry place. heading to the 'camp restaurant' for a rather wooden pizza and a beer, we glanced into the fish bowl of a bar to see 19 year old germans dancing away in sparkly cowboy hats to flo rida's get low. it was 10 o clock on a friday night during carnival and you choose to dance here. oh dear. having learnt that the last boat back (yes, fusina was a 10 minute boat ride away from venice) was at 9.30, i excused them 5%. after all, we did learn the following night that it was as easy as pie to return to the campsite from venice late at night...ahem. with a full tummy, and after an unsuccessful trip to find the ladies with the cold, wet cabin with no blankets (we had about 15 in ours), i walked 5 minutes down the road to brush my teeth and settled in for my first night in northern italy.

DAY 1

and what a welcome...we were greeted off the ferry by this monochrome, two-faced lady. she was to remain my favourite costume of the whole weekend. the combination of this costume and a gondola winding its way down a canal on which a beautiful man sung the song 'santa lucia', both witnessed within the first 15 minutes of arriving in venezia, i knew that we were off to a good start. 

it was all just fantastic and i was blown away by the colourful, yet slightly eery (see eyes wide shut and you'll know what i'm on about) atmosphere of venice during carnival. but there was one problem: i didn't have a mask. both will and i, being dresser-uppers of high calibre, felt awkward in our own skin. after stopping for some breakfast with a kiss from a tranny on the side, I eventually found ‘the one’.
when it comes to choosing masks in venice, you'll just know. the plastic jobbies are sold everywhere, whereas the workshops are a little harder to find. both atelier marega (where will bought his) or la bauta (where i bought mine) provided us with fantassstic masks. you certainly pay for what you get. right next to the accademia bridge you will also find a brilliant piazza for purchasing outfits.
costumes and masks purchased, cameras started to turn on us. in one day i had turned from lucy to santa lucia (my masked alter-ego) and from a nobody to a star. this is stuff that only dreams are made of; it just shows you what a pouting face and a few feathers can do for oneself. this all being said, there are no two ways about it: masks are disconcerting things. every time i had my photo taken, i was smiling like an idiot behind my disguise. it got to the stage where i was fed up of looking so sad, and so i would lift up my mask when the camera was pointed so people knew that i was actually extremely happpppy.

although soaking up the atmosphere was our main priority, our cultural appetites needed satisfying before lunch. we headed to santa maria gloriosa dei frari (more commonly known as the 'frari'), costing us 1.50 with a student reduction (students, sure sure). we entered into this cavernous church which, without its magnificent tombs and paintings would feel soulless and hollow. immediately drawn to the tomb of canova, i had remembered this extraordinary design from my previous trip to venice. the hooded allegory of death and the beautiful lion of st. mark, connected by the lion's glance, complete this tomb for me.

a similar design had been drawn by the 18th century artist for a monument to titian, but the design had never been executed. so his pupils based canova's tomb on this original drawing by the artist himself. titian's tomb, which sits opposite to canova's, is less impressive. the relief which forms the back drop of the monument, depicting the assumption, can also be seen in oil on canvas in the apse of the church. this masterpiece by titian, along with bellini's madonna and child, is one of the main attractions of the church. the choir stalls by marco cozzi are also worth a ganders. in the side chapel where bellini's painting resides, there is a fantastic relief depicting the deposition of christ in which the figures, carved in deep relief, project out of the framework. make sure you also get a glimpse of the former monastery and its cloisters.

spending much of the rest of the day in st. mark's square admiring costumes and taking photos, we wound our way through the streets in search of one of these magical wine shops we had heard so much about. water bottles were refilled with local wines for as little as 2.10/litre. it was a miracle. unfortunately it was one we never witnessed and the closest we got was a plastic cup full of mulled wine. but we later realised that to find these nuggets of wonder you must head to campo santa margherita and calle de la bissa. instead we bought some wine, headed back to st. marks, and found some dinner. stumbling across open air live music post dinner was a real highlight and sue me for joining in with all of the other masked faces to dance by the canal side...

the journey home is actually not worth writing about. lets just say it consisted of a longgg walk, a crowed bus ride with an expensive mask in my hands, a 35 euro taxi, a grumpy lucy and a very patient will. never again were we to stay out later than 9.30...bar camp fusina it was for us from hereon.

DAY 2

unsurprisingly, we had a later start on the second day, and breakfast became lunch; and a fantastic one at that. i have never tasted buffalo mozzarella or olives like it. it was in a tinnnnny restaurant near the accademia gallery. vacci! after a short queue and making two new best friends, we found our way into the gallery, which had been shut in the morning for no reason at all. as we entered, we bumped into the israeli tour guide we had met the night before at dinner. what a small world venice felt in comparison to the large hub of rome. i hadn't remembered much from the accademia, and re-visiting it this time reminded me why. i think it is probably a case of being spoilt for choice museum-wise in rome, but despite a number of fantastic works of art, the museum didn't blow me away. it is currently undergoing massive restoration which might have something to do with the fact that we were unable to see titian's pieta and leonardo da vinci's vitruvian man; two of the major highlights in the gallery. the ceiling of the first room and a couple of the paintings did stand out however...


ceiling of first room. the
building used to be venice's
 school of painting.

jealous? no idea who this is by
but i thought it was highly
amusing. never seen a maddonna
and child like it.

this painting entitled la vecchia
portrays 'vanitas' (or the
reminder of death) through her 'talking face'
and the sign in her hands saying 'col tempo'
or 'with time'














but it wasn't these or the extensive bellinis and tintorettos that caught my eye; if anything i became immune to them after a while (spoilt?). instead, it was this painting by francesco hayez called distruzione del tempio del gerusalemme. looking at the painting, i was immediately reminded of the photos taken of the world trade centre on the 11^th September 2001. placing the images side by side may help to explain what I mean:

the smoking buildings and the falling people in both pictures are reminiscent of one other and the reasons for both incidents can be traced back to a conflict between religions. the two events are obviously not connected in the slightest but it was an interesting comparison I thought.

back to st. marks for more staring and more being stared at. this time, we found what seemed to be a sort of tea room (with your back facing the basilica, its on the right hand side of st. mark's). looking through the window was like looking into a time capsule. not just one person, but every single person in there was drinking tea and coffee and wearing period costume: wigs, dresses, suits and make-up. that was until the avatar popped his head inside for an espresso...

face paint on and ready to go (who needs to pay 5 euros for a butterfly over your eye when you could have this...), dinner called, and unfortunately so did the boat at 9.30...

DAY 3

today it was most definitely raining. the sort of day when you don’t want to be trekking across venice to the train station to leave your luggage before a day of activity. well that’s exactly what we did. however, this could not have been easier and is highly advisable if you have an evening flight/train. you catch the traghetto (ferry) up the grand canal and bob's your uncle you can leave your bags (and an arm and a leg) at the train station for the day. convenient but not cheap.

purchasing a lovely tartan umbrella which conveniently broke within the first 30 seconds of buying it, we heading into the jewish quarter of town, canareggio. stopping off at la casa del tintoretto, we made our way to my favourite church in venice, and arguably one of my favourite churches ever... it is called santa maria in assunto. it is a gesuit church and is found right in the northern part of the city. the intricacy of the green in-laid marble baffles me. i have still never seen anything like it and don’t think i ever will. every green pattern you see in the photo below (excluding some higher up which are painted) has been fitted into the surrounding white marble like a jigsaw piece. chucked out for il padre's lunch break, we only just managed to see this magical place which i cannot recommend more.

murano, on the other hand...

murano is an island near venice, well-known for its blown glass. neither of us had been there so we thought it a good idea to go, see what all the fuss was about, and have a bite to eat. and to be honest, other than the lunch (which was delicious) and a 3 minute glass-blowing display (during which we sat like lemons on tiered seating whilst a man stood there and recounted what was happening like a parrot) nothing really excited me...not even the glass. it turns out i like plane coloured glass in simple designs, so i may as well have gone to ikea to do my shopping. having said that, i was perhaps a bit carnival-sick and i'm sure that on the loveliest of summer days, murano would provide a lovely escape from the sweaty and narrow streets of venice...

on our return to st. marks by traghetto, we realised it was either half an hour in st. mark's basilica or an hour in the doge's palace before closing time; so we split forces. i headed into the palace and will to the basilica. now the palazzo ducale is something i could not recommend more. it was the pope's apartments at the vatican fused with buckingham palace...and on a much littler and more manageable scale. just fantastic. you are also able to cross the bridge of sighs which i didn't think possible. that was a real highlight, as well as seeing the prison cells on the other side where criminals from centuries past were sent after their fate had been decided in the palace's courts. the largest canvas ever painted (news to me) also casually resides in one of the rooms: tintoretto's paradise. the sala del maggiore consiglio in which it is displayed is the largest room in the palace and is certainly not to be missed.

so we were homeward bound. a traghetto to the station, a bus to the airport and an easyjet flight home. seating ourselves on the flight, we soon came to realise that our adventures were not yet over. one of the passengers on board had had a problem getting her hand luggage through the gate as it did not fit ‘within the dimensions’. we had screaming women, crying flight attendants, angry men in spotty bowties and then the WHOLE plane (and i am not exaggerating, the WHOLE plane) erupting into 'brute parole' when the argument reached its peak. nowhere else in the world would an argument like this take place on what is the world's most boring and non-eventful airline. thank you italy.

i love venice. it was my third visit and it never fails to amaze. a town surrounded and invaded by water; no cars, no motorinos, a fascinating and unique architectural image and a history that i still have a lot to learn about. perhaps i will have to go back next year...

for more information about the venice carnival, check out Venice Carnival Italy

and here are some more treats: