Venetians elegantly killing time

Friday 4 December 2009


Last glimpse before we left yesterday evening. Phwoar.

It's hard these days to go anywhere without a preconcieved idea of your destination - films, the internet, old photographs all inform and shape the impression, feel, taste of a place. So of course, I knew that Venice has a lot of canals and very old merchants houses and palazzos; that Nancy Mitford went almost every year, writing spiteful funny letters about her fellow aristocratic guests; Joss Hay honeymooned there after his scandalous marriage to Idina Sackford - an iconic photo shows them arm-in-arm in ikat pyjamas on the Lido; Helen Mirren, Natasha Richardson and Rupert Everett had a disturbing encounter there and of course every red-blooded male I know has watched Don't Look Now more for Julie Christie in the buff than any glimpses of St Mark's Square.


Just like a Canaletto, innit?

So, I thought I was prepared for Venice. What rubbish. It is quite simply the most breathtaking city I have ever seen - the beauty is relentless - every corner brings a new and amazing vista and it has been cleverly described by more talented wordsmiths than I. Even that old Tart of the Doggerel, Betjeman, has had a go. So all I can do is tell you what I did and share pictures I took.



Just round the corner from here you can buy a nasty-tasting coffee for 20 Euros that comes in a crappy jug that pours it all over the table
and onto your bloody coat.

We ate the most amazing lunch of ham, lard and cheese as around us a school spilled voluble children and their impossibly glamorous mummies; a lady tipped rubbish into a winding street and caused a dozen infuriated shopkeepers to crowd under her window and give her the most musical bollocking I've ever heard; we drank prosecco and tiny bitter espressos as the waiters piled chairs about us and the rain sparkled off the streets outside; we walked miles along sunny canals choosing crumbling and empty palazzos to live in; we larked about in masks and cloaks testing the indulgence of out-of-season shopkeepers; we drooled over tiny intricate paper theatres in wood-panelled warrens; we stood in silent awe in a church made of blue-grey marble; I bought beautiful handbags and an outrageously elegant winter coat; we drank Bellinis in Harry's Bar and made some eccentric new friends; and above all, we never once got lost. I tried, but the Colonel had several maps concealed about his person and guided me surefootedly to shops, campos, bridges, palaces and food. Result.

That Turnbull & Asser smoking jacket conceals at least four maps. Which, after the three Bellinis I had before supper, came in jolly handy.

9 comments:

  1. Hooray you're back! I've been fascinated with Venice ever since I read "Across the River and into the Trees". And you got to drink at Harry's ! I am so jealous.

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  2. Welcome home! You have expertly described my love of Venice too: we visited three years ago and adored it. Reading your post has taken me straight back to the Hotel Ca'Pisani....

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  3. I knew you'd love Venice!
    It is very beguiling...
    Glad you and the Colonel had a chance to share and experience it for yourselves!
    Feel free to post more pictures.

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  4. James, good to be back, had poorly child on the sofa so spent the day making unglamourous soup and coming back to earth!

    Trish, get the vodka poured! Sun WAY over the yard arm here. Hope you've recovered from the brownies??

    Rasputin, beguiling is the perfect word, lots of secrets and hidden doors.

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  5. Well, it sounds as if you had the most marvellous time -how wonderful. Am most envious - still on my 'places to go' list..My daughter was lucky enough to spend this Summer in Conegliano (about 15mins from Venice) aupairing and visited there most weekends - am wondering whether she appreciated it enough as it was 'on her doorstep' so to speak - I do hope so.

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  6. Just sounds delicioulsy decadent and of course very romantic!

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  7. I want to borrow the Colonel's jacket!

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  8. ADG Swankypants, innit. Swap you for the tartan jods?

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  9. Forgive me for quoting you to you, but this is poetry.

    We ate the most amazing lunch of ham, lard and cheese as around us a school spilled voluble children and their impossibly glamorous mummies; a lady tipped rubbish into a winding street and caused a dozen infuriated shopkeepers to crowd under her window and give her the most musical bollocking I've ever heard; we drank prosecco and tiny bitter espressos as the waiters piled chairs about us and the rain sparkled off the streets outside; we walked miles along sunny canals choosing crumbling and empty palazzos to live in; we larked about in masks and cloaks testing the indulgence of out-of-season shopkeepers; we drooled over tiny intricate paper theatres in wood-panelled warrens; we stood in silent awe in a church made of blue-grey marble; I bought beautiful handbags and an outrageously elegant winter coat; we drank Bellinis in Harry's Bar and made some eccentric new friends; and above all, we never once got lost. I tried, but the Colonel had several maps concealed about his person and guided me surefootedly to shops, campos, bridges, palaces and food.

    ReplyDelete

Please leave a comment if you can be remotely bothered - anything you have to say is valuable and I absolutely love hearing from you all. Elizabeth