Vaucluse Dreamer

I can hardly believe that I am writing this post from Venice, after our long-planned, anniversary trip nearly came off the rails a few weeks ago, when life threw another (rather large and totally unexpected) rock across our path.

Over the last few years, life seems to have formed a nasty little habit of throwing our plans off track, and it appears that it was pretty determined to do the same again this year. However, after a frantic dash back to the UK and another experience with the always excellent French healthcare system, the plans for our anniversary trip to Venice and Nice were somehow still in place. So here we are.

Having got married on a bitterly cold and wet February day 36 years ago, the choices for wedding anniversary trips have always been a bit limited. Call me old-fashioned, but a murky and cold weekend traipsing through mud and puddles is OK most of the time, but not exactly the go-to choice to celebrate another year together.  That said, I’m not one who yearns for fine-dining, champagne and roses either, but something in between would be nice.

Since moving to Provence, things have become easier, with the Menton Fête Du Citron and Nice Carnaval taking place over the key date. So, over the last few years, we’ve pottered down to the Cote D’Azur and enjoyed the festivals, whilst fitting in a bit of walking and cycling too, which is (to us) a perfect way to celebrate.

Last year, we found the perfect apartment for our stay in Nice. Just opposite the beach and with a balcony overlooking the Carnaval route, we could enjoy all the parades wrapped up against the cold, whilst drinking a glass of wine. In fact, we enjoyed it so much that we booked it again for this year, whilst we were on the train back to Avignon, after leaving.

We then started looking for somewhere else to go, just to add a couple of extra days and instead of Menton, I suggested that I’d really love to see Venice, and February seemed like a good time to go (although I had failed to even consider the Venice Carnival). So the plans were made and Andy managed to find us a hotel room with a view across a canal, which sounded perfect. We would be in the heart of the old city and we’d be perfectly placed to explore the sights of this beautiful place.

With everything booked, our minds turned to other adventures and our heads filled with plans for a summer cycle home from the UK and an extended visit to Japan in the autumn. So much so, that we really didn’t give this trip a second thought, which sounds awful really. In many ways, going to Nice for Carnaval is second-nature now and if I’m honest, I had wanted to visit Venice, but imagined it to be a ‘theme park experience ‘ and somewhere that I had to visit, if only just to be able to say that I had been.

I had seen photos of crowds forcing their way up the Rialto Bridge and had heard stories of the cost of a cup of coffee in St Mark’s Square too. But still, I just wanted to experience it for myself.

I suppose I imagined that it would be a city preserved in aspic; a place with incredible sites and beautiful architecture, but with its personality and character smoothed over or hidden, with everything simply geared to the vast number of tourists who visit each year.

What I didn’t expect was a vibrant, thriving city with everyday life taking centre stage on the canals below our hotel room window. Yes, it is busy with visitors ( we are 2 of them) but day-to-day life goes on here, as it does in every other town and city, we’ve ever visited. It’s just a bit different.

We arrived by boat, flying in from Nice and catching the ferry across from the airport and from the moment the pinnacled towers and domes of the city came into focus through the spray of the bow-waves, I was a little bit in love. We took the Blu line, which stopped in Murano, before taking a route around Venice, passing the Arsenal and giving us scintillating glimpses of the city along the canals that opened into the lagoon.

We stopped at the Lido, before finally crossing back to the city, passing in front of San Giorgio Maggiore and the beautiful Basilica Santa Maria Della Salute, which was framed by the glow of the late afternoon sun, turning the sky orange as it began to set. I was transfixed and was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, as we docked and walked through to our hotel

In my mind’s eye, I hadn”t imagined Venice to be as big as it is, and with everything that had happened in the lead up to the trip, I hadn’t had a chance to read up about it either. Perhaps that actually was the best thing to have happened, as my naivety and lack of knowledge meant that I was seeing everything with fresh eyes, and by the time we walked into the hotel room, I was already enchanted.

We popped our rucksacks down, stood gazing out of the window at the Gondolas passing below and within minutes were out of the door and off to explore. We spent the evening strolling along the canals and losing ourselves in the narrow streets and alleyways, simply absorbed by the beautiful buildings at every turn.

We wandered into St Mark’s Square …

And watched the Gondolas bobbing on the waves, stretching their mooring ropes

We took in the incredible sight of the Doge’s Palace and the intricate detail of the Bridge of Sighs…

Before heading back, already more than a little in love with the city.

In the morning, we woke early as I was determined to go out to watch the sunrise. So by just before 7am, we were by the lagoon, watching the sky lighten

Before the spectacular buildings were bathed with a rosy glow, as the sun started to rise. It was quiet, apart from the early morning bustle of people heading off to work and the quays were empty of stalls & visitors and we simply enjoyed the sight.

Over the last 2 days that we’ve been here, we’ve spent our time walking around this wonderful place, finding our way through back streets and narrow ginnels…

Ambling along canals…

Sitting in the sun, with our backs against sun-warmed walls…

And of course, seeing the sights…

It is exquisitely beautiful. The ancient buildings and skyline aren’t overshadowed by modern construction, leaving it pretty much as Canaletto painted it, about 300 years ago.

And The Grand Canal is still a busy main thoroughfare for the city, but now with about 7500 fewer Gondolas than there were on the water, at its height.

But what we have especially enjoyed is watching day to day life take place around us, in a city that has no roads, just canals and boats. We sat eating breakfast watching builders unload onto the quay opposite. Their small boat acted like Hermione Granger’s handbag, charmed with a spell to enable it to hold so much more than really should be possible; everything slowly but surely was unloaded, including steel joists, which made us hold our breath until they were safely on solid ground..

There are the Venetian equivalent of delivery vans, small boats dapping along the canals, pulling in for the driver to hop off, tie the boat up and unload the packages onto sack trucks to wheel them along the cobbled streets and over the stepped bridges to their final destinations.

There are post boats, fire boats, police and carabineri boats too, as well as ambulances and hospital transport vessels.

The rubbish is piled into some and there are others for recycling, the different waste carefully being sorted as it’s loaded. There are even ‘skip’ boats, that are being filled with rubble directly from the buildings being renovated.

It’s the ultimate city without cars, and it’s just a joy. Everything just works. The water buses run to time, efficiently moving the 51,000 residents and countless visitors around the city, and walking here is just a delight, with plenty of places to stop and just watch the boats go about their business. There really is something rather lovely about watching boats dapping around on the water, crossing each other and parting ways, as if they are taking part in some aquatic country dance.

I suppose some people will say that we have missed out, as we haven’t taken a Gondola ride, we haven’t been in the Museums or Basilicas and we certainly haven’t pulled on masks and ball gowns to join some of the Carnival visitors either. But we have got under the skin of this enchanting and enigmatic place, and it has got under our skin too.

When we arrived, we weren’t really sure what to expect, and if I’m perfectly honest we were here just to tick it off the list of places to go. But we have fallen for its charm, love the car-free existence and are fascinated by the nuts and bolts of life here.

We have walked nearly 38km in our first 2 days and have more exploring to do tomorrow, before we head back to Nice for a few days at the Carnival there. I know that when we return to a normal city, the sound, smell and chaos of traffic will come as a bit of a shock and I will think back to ambling around a place where you can find peace, despite the huge numbers of visitors.

Yes it is touristy, yes it’s a bit pricey too and some areas are incredibly busy (even in February), but I’m so pleased we came. It’s been unexpectedly charming. We have found a side of Venice that we love and hope that one day, we will be able to return.