“I thought it would have only one canal and then a bunch of fingers you could go up and down to get to people’s houses, like the Lake (Westlake),” Ailyn said over lunch.
“I didn’t think there would be so many boats or so many canals,” Sennen said. “There are canals everywhere! I thought there would be more driving. And it’s a REALLY big island. I didn’t think it would be such a big city or island. This is a big lagoon.”
Yet, despite some of the perceptual gaps, the kids are thus far enjoying Venice. Well, except for Ailyn and the gondola tour. She’s wary of small boats and doesn’t like any rocking. Despite the gondola going slowly on rather smooth, stable water – it was not Ailyn’s thing, though she did better than in the canals of Bangkok (once called The Venice of the East) where the loud, powerful long tail motors propel boats quickly as they zip across the Chao Praya and rapidly through little-seen neighborhoods. As a refresher, six year-old Ailyn said “I would rather show my privates than do this!”
At least she didn’t feel flashing the city was preferably to a 30 minute boat tour.
To be honest, I found a longtail boat ride far more preferable to the grocery shopping we did. The Theatro Market in what – as the name not-so-subtley implies – was once a beautiful old theater was aesthetically amazing. The grocery selection was also great. The frenetic energy and flow of foot traffic inside was not. The entire time I felt rushed and like we needed to move to get out of someone’s way – and there was always someone going quickly from one place to another, with no organized flow to speak of. It reminded me of a Carrefour in Taiwan – which is not a compliment. By the time we got out with our water, eggs, cheese and other basics I needed a breather.
The bakery across the square in the Canneregio – the neighborhood adjacent to our Airbnb – seemed like it would be fun and more importantly, solve the issue of my kids’ rather urgent hunger. Only, it turns out the chaos in the bakery was only slightly less than in the supermarket. The bakery had more of a New York Stock Exchange vibe with a disorganized throng of people vying for staff attention and trying to get their goods before someone else.
By the time we got out with out with our morning pastries, I was a little harried and missing France, Greece, Singapore – any and all of the countries where people easily form lines and step to one side to make foot traffic flow. I especially missed the little politenesses of French shopping – all the bonjours, bon journee’s, puisque je vous aiders, Monsieurs, Madames, Mademoiselles… Sure it was just one supermarket and one bakery – but this is Italy and I think we got a sample of a cultural distinction….
On the other side of the coin, Sennen found donkey cheese at the supermarket and having tried it just a few minutes ago is thrilled with his selection.
Fortunately for us, what appeared to be the remote and gloomy neighborhood we arrived at by water taxi last night at 12:30 am turns out to be two blocks from the pleasant and bustling Cannaregio. The kids’ perception of our street was “creepy” – but that’s the thing about a late night arrival – you often wake up to a very different reality. And getting further into town – like to the San Marco Square area is a 12 minute walk to a quick water bus and only one stop to the Rialto Bridge. So, we have great access to some key parts of town.
The apartment itself is ideal. We have a balcony on a canal, two bedrooms, bunk beds for the kids, two baths, living room and separate dining room with a view. It’s nicely renovated without losing the classic wood-beam ceilings and interior double wood doors. The heating works well and the kitchen is small, but well equipped to our needs. The apartment was rated as a rare gem on Airbnb – which was both available and affordable only because we’re visiting off-season.
All of that said, Sennen finds the fact that boats go by periodically “kinda’ creepy” and has trouble embracing the canals because of the smell. Fair enough.
He was far more embracing of his first pizza in Italy at lunch. Ailyn didn’t mind hers, but seemed less enthusiastic than her Nutella filled croissant-like pastry at breakfast. I’m with her there.
Ailyn’s enthusiasm really kicked-in with shopping. The area between the Rialto Bridge and San Marco Square had lots of touristy shopping Ailyn just loved. With her 200 euro “shopping spree” I gave her for Hanukkah (Sennen got the same) and the $40 Hanukkah gelt from her Aunt Andrea, Ailyn was in heaven. After the “torturous” gondola, she found a light blue leather purse that helped her forget her troubles. When her brother found a pop-up gelato stand two doors down from the leather-goods store, the trauma of a small boat was replaced with new joy that smacked of Kinder Bueno.
So, where Venice got a rough start with a late night arrival, slow baggage return, a long schlep to the taxi dock and an expensive water taxi that already had Ailyn apprehensive and finding no lighter to light our Hanukkah candles on our travel-Hanukkiah – Venice by daylight helped everyone reframe their attitude.
Very perceptively, on a water boat line, Sennen asked if Venice had always spoken Italian. Of course the answer is no – Venetians really didn’t speak modern Italian until well after their 1866 unification with Italy. Sure, Italian replaced Latin as the official language for legal documents in the 16th century – but it wasn’t used in common parlance until well after the Austrian Empire ceded Lombardy-Veneto to France which in turn handed it over to the nascent Italian state which had only begun forming in 1861 and finished in 1870 – making Italy one of the youngest modern nation-states in Europe.
Linguists debate – which seems to be their thing – whether Venetian is a dialect of Italian or a distinct and separate language in its own right. Incorporating elements of Latin, Arabic and Greek, Venetian is a product of Venice’s long history as a cosmopolitan independent state with periods of outsized power and massive maritime trade – and it remains spoken today.
Walking around Venice which is distinct in all the world, let alone in just Italy, it’s easy to imagine a world in which Venice was not so Italian at all. There’s a reason why even in the middle of winter, tourism doesn’t die out in Venice. People from around the globe are still here, spending their dollars, getting their perfect selfies and driving the local economy. Venice’s warehouses are no longer full of spices and furs as they once were – and people no longer die of plague or typhoid either – making it so Venice’s largest product is now Venice itself. Which I suppose is why people are so generally happy to speak English with us.
In coming days, we hope to check out the original ghettos of Venice, attend Shabbat services at one of the six major remaining synagogues and tour the Dodge’s Palace. And I’m sure sample more of the city’s finest gelato.
