Floating Islands

Venice...as in WOW, Venice!

Having lost much of our very short “cruising season” to repairs, we made our way with some haste to Venice.  (A little more on that voyage later.)  Having settled ourselves into a marina – Santa Elena on the tip of Venice proper – and, after only a short rest, it was time to hit those labyrinthine streets.  Anything wheeled, including baby buggies, is better left elsewhere as streets are narrow, sometimes claustrophobically so; bridges endless; crowds merciless; and heat oppressive.  Welcome to July in Venice.

Floating Islands is an intoxicating dessert - fluffy meringue pillows suspended over rich, vanilla custard.  Somehow Venice hints at this dreamy delight (although it is French in origin – but Napoleon was here too, you know!) with its spectacular, romantic palaces (palazzo), crumbling mansions, churches to inspire any amount of religious fervour and impressive art works full of Baroque vigour. 

This whole tantalizing vision floats over some 100 muddy islands, underpinned by hundreds of pinewood piles in a shallow swampy lagoon.  These islands are separated by canals, some mere rills - a tight squeeze even for a gondola, and this network is laced together by a series of bridges that challenge any notion you might have of direction or angle.  Any wonder, first time visitors are advised to “Get Lost”.

Wandering aimlessly is not something the Cap’n does well.  It’s a bit like shopping.  So when our foray for groceries in our local area (to a rare mini-market open on Sunday) ended up in the Piazza San Marco, you can imagine how delighted he was.  Turning back, we found ourselves at the famous Arsenale, the city’s maritime heart and once the greatest naval shipyard in the world.  At its peak, the Arsenale was capable of turning out one war galley (perhaps a great trireme of 150 oars with a fierce battering ram & bronze canon) in a day.  Any wonder, the Venetian Empire was vast, powerful and so, so wealthy.

We managed to find our way back to the green parks of Sant Elena eventually; not before a finding a spot at a bar to rest our weary tootsies.  And, of course, to join in the local custom of partaking an afternoon aperitif (for us a refreshing beer) to stimulate one’s appetite for dinner.  Oh shoot!  Now where was that supermarket?

Grand Renaissance Entrance (1460) to the Arsenale Shipyard

We liked this lion; he looked like Baxter after a
bad haircut day...always embarrassed!