Venice

The stories of Venice

The beauty of Venice was sung by Lord Byron some 200 years ago when he stayed at Ca' Mocenigo, one of the marvellous palaces on the Grand Canal (Canale Grande) with his 14 servants, many dogs and even more mistresses. Various events link Byron's name with the Canale Grande: once he swam all the way up the canal from the Lido, and one of his mistresses threw herself into the canal to prevent her lover from leaving. Perhaps it was not by accident that Byron began to write Don Juan here. The poet was not the only one to contribute to the fame of the four Mocenigo palaces. Several centuries earlier, at around the end of the 16^th century, one of the owners, Giovanni Mocenigo invited Giordano Bruno to Ca' Mocenigo Vecchia to learn the secrets of alchemy. But it was not long before he denounced his guest to the inquisition, and Bruno was finally burned at the stake after a seven-year long procedure. It might be seen as some kind of revenge that allegedly Bruno's ghost still haunts the palace to this day.

As we cruise up the Grand Canal admiring the palaces of one-time noble families, all of a sudden we ourselves seem to jump back in time: all the palaces tell us stories of intrigue, tragedy and love, and - despite the crowds of tourists bustling around us - we suddenly feel as if we are actors in these stories. We see Venetian women dying their hair blond, that legendary Venetian blond on the terrace of Ca' Gatti (allegedly, besides the lightening mixture, the secret of this tint lay in drying it in the sun).

A bit further up we catch a glimpse of Richard Wagner, who spent the last months of his life here with Cosima. Upon his death, a gondola carried his body to the train station to be returned to Bayreuth. Just a few buildings away and 170 years earlier, at the gate of Ca' Gussoni-Grimani, Sir Henry Watton, the one-time English ambassador greets us, providing the following witty definition of his profession: "An ambassador is an honest man sent abroad to lie for his country".
As we progress, our vaporetto passes one palazzo after the other, the stories that Venice tell us line up in our heads like the mooring poles painted in the colours of the noble families.

As we arrive at St. Mark's Square, everything seems to be familiar: the Basilica, the Doge's Palace and the almost 100-metre tall bell tower, the Campanile. But these sights have their own stories to tell. The Basilica, for instance, is a treasury. Its ornaments and relics were brought from places the world-over. Even the remains St Mark himself appeared here under rather unusual circumstances.
In the 9^th century, Venetians decided that they needed a patron saint, and as a result they literally stole the body of St Mark from Alexandria. This act was executed in quite a curious way: two Venetian merchants smuggled out the body hidden under several layers of lard right under the noses of Muslim guards. A legend soon began to spread that St Mark the Apostle appeared here when a storm in the lagoon cast him ashore. He fell asleep and in his dream an angel appeared to tell him that his body would rest here. The remains of St Mark have literally rested under the main altar of the Basilica ever since.

The Campanile, the mighty tower, took more than six hundred years to complete: construction started in 888 and finished in 1514. It ended up collapsing, producing a giant cloud of dust in just a few seconds in 1902. The tower you can see now is the exact replica of the original, the only difference being the lift, which makes it easier to get to the viewing platform - but be prepared for some queuing. Here is a piece of practical advice: avoid staying up there when the bells ring. Otherwise the five bells will start to chime right next to your ears: a shocking experience, believe me.

And once in St Mark's Square, instead of just wandering around in the middle of the square amidst pigeons, tourists and bird-food vendors, let's venture under the arcades. There we find Caffe Florian, the first café in Europe which with its unique atmosphere has remained of the most beautiful on the continent.

Talking about catering, Harry's Bar, Ernest Hemingway's favourite pub, is only a few blocks away. It's true that seeing the waiters in white jackets, the snow-white tablecloths and the price list, the word "pub" would be the last to spring to your mind. Still many say that the best cocktails in town are mixed here.

The flavours of Venice

"Venetians have no gift for gastronomy", complained Italian writer and playwright Pietro Aretino in the 16^th century. "No wonder palaces have no decent dining rooms", pouted others. Despite this history, Venice has a number of surprises up its sleeve. Because of the proximity to the sea, naturally fish dominates the traditional Venetian menu. Risotto con scampi, that is risotto with shrimp is a real classic, but sarde in saor, that is fried marinated sardines is a dish with an even longer tradition. It was originally invented out of the necessity to preserve fish as long as possible. In this marinated state, fishermen could take fish with them for longer voyages, and in addition it offered them protection against scurvy. Another local speciality, not a fish dish for a change, is carpaccio which consists of thinly sliced raw beef with either grated Parmesan cheese or pepper mustard. For us, Hungarians risi e bisi, a soup made from rice, peas and ham sounds the most familiar, even though we know only its distant relative relegated to the status of a side dish. Traditionally, risi e bisi was the first course of the dinner served on 25 April, the feast day of St Mark in the Doge's Palace. Despite being a soup, locals eat it with a fork - a piece of cutlery introduced in Venice by a Byzantine princess in 1005.

The sounds of Venice

Venice captures the eye to such an extent that you tend to forget how much it can provide for the ear. "When I seek a synonym for music, the only word that invariably springs to mind is Venice" said Nietzsche. And he had every reason to say so, as the first opera house of the world opened in this city in 1637, and the composer who brought singing within the theatre building was none other than Claudio Monteverdi. Opera soon became a favourite of Venetians, verging on passion. For some 200 years there were at least seven opera companies entertaining the public. Though nowadays Venice cannot boast that many opera houses, everything about the city rings to the sounds of music. If we thumb through the programme brochures, go into an information office or simply look at the posters around the city, we see that this month is also characterised by an amazing range of music programmes, including a series of chamber music recitals in the Teatro Malibran, and symphony concert and opera series in the Teatro La Fenice. The latter is worth a visit anyway, as it has been beautifully rebuilt and on your way out you might even bump into opera singer Cecilia Bartoli, who occasionally comes here to record.

Music is not only beauty to be heard in Venice: it is present everywhere in the form of exhibitions, etchings and posters. For instance, Chiesa de San Maurizio not only houses a collection of masterfully conserved musical instruments from the time of Vivaldi, but it also offers visitors an insight into the art of violin making.

And when we have seen, tasted and listened to everything, let us just take a deep breath and lose our map (You don't have to be too adventurous to do so in Venice, as there are arrows painted on the walls at every corner showing the way to the train station, the Rialto Bridge or St. Mark Square). For this town the saying "the journey is the destination" holds true pronouncedly. We are not walking (just) to get somewhere, but because we come across fantastic sights and experiences at every corner. There is that hidden alleyway over there, so narrow that you would mistake it for a window niche from as close as 10 metres. Or this small park - we enter and as if a door was closed behind us, we get immersed in complete silence, leaving behind the people and the hustle and bustle of the town. There is a closed yard over there, but if we take a peek inside, we'll find a lavishly green miniature garden with the hibiscus in full bloom already in February. The more we lose our way, the more we are likely to come upon some exciting hidden treasure.

I am sitting on a small bench looking at passer-bys and the words of my friend come to my mind. And now it is my turn to wave a hand: Venice is not like I remembered. It is much better.