“Since this is Italy, speed limits are more like suggestions than laws,” said guide
Petra. The Saints abroad were crossing the Po plain eastward across the top of
Italy. And true, some small cars blew past us on the autostrada.
But the semis all stay in the far right lane and have lower speed suggestions they seem to follow. So we were free to relax and savor the land’s startling productivity – grapes, corn, wheat, alfalfa, the occasional hunter working a hedgerow – with the Alps always glimmering dark blue to the north.
Approaching Venice from the mainland, we transferred to a boat and saw the staging area for the city. It was a bit like seeing the great Oz behind the curtain. At the terminal area where trucks offload goods onto boats for conveying into the city, a barge the size of a tennis court headed into a canal with a half-load of washing machines. Vaporetti, or “water buses,” buzzed to and fro with tourists and local residents alike. Preposterously impractical, but then, as Petra said fondly of Italy in general: “Everything just has to look good, it doesn’t have to work well.”
The gorgeous weather had most of our party out on the deck of our boat, taking in the remarkable architecture and sweep of the city. Sister Barbara Higgins was interested to see a Benedictine monastery on the south shore of the Grand Canal.
Once in St. Mark’s square, the Saints spread out to ponder canal views from atop bridges, dine, do a museum, or people-watch. Or all of the above. We hop-scotched between African refugee vendors hawking Chinese knockoff leather goods, and noticed close up that the infamously toxic waters of the canals didn’t seem so bad, or even have much debris or scent.
Lisa Roseth, who collects local art when she travels, scored three watercolors. Waldtraut Betchart enjoyed discovering small plazas frequented more by locals rather than tourists. Kari Grieman contemplated the architecture and the sets of steps leading into water.
Barb King’s gondola ride was “very peaceful, very relaxing, very old world. And you’re seeing people’s laundry hanging from the balconies!”
Your correspondent’s favorite moment came after viewing a few of the baroque master Tiepolo’s paintings of acrobatic punchinellos, prancing hunchbacks with disturbingly long-nosed masks and megaphone hats. (Mister Sophisticate went straight to Burger King to ponder the experience over three burgers.) On the walk back toward the boat I was startled to see a real-life hunchback shuffling directly in front of me and once or twice glancing back at me. No long proboscis, but still: spooky.
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