I spend far too much time scrolling on my phone. We all do. Time I could have spent talking to a friend, learning a language or baking a cake has been wasted scrolling through social media and various articles and rabbit holes online. One such article popped up on my Google news feed was ‘Why you should visit Venice in the winter’. I read on.
Venice is suffering from over tourism, it’s crowded, hot and crumbling in the summer months as day trippers and cruise ship passengers clog its bridges and canals. The city has introduced a tourist tax to try and save itself. In the winter it’s empty, it’s cheaper and the locals are more laid back. I’ve always wanted to go to Venice but didn’t want to be part of the problem and I really don’t like crowds. The article sowed a seed which turned into a cheap flight and hotel right on the Rialto Bridge. I was finally going to go and see this marvellous and unique city for myself.
My arrival at the airport was confusing before a friendly Italian girl helped me out. Normally I am in Greece and I can read and speak enough to get going. Here in Italy I am a small helpless child. I speak not a word – it’s embarrassing. I decide on the water bus straight to Rialto. After a long walk through Marco Polo airport to the water transport station I board a small boat and am instructed to go downstairs inside the boat. My arrival should have been very glamorous and James Bond but alas it was dark and I was facing inwards almost on the waterline. No matter, about half an hour later I had arrived and checked in.
I had a drink at a local bar and tried my best to get my bearings. One thing to say is Venice in January is freezing cold. Baltic cold. The wind comes straight from the Alps (I passed their snowy peaks on the descent into the airport.) No more than a max of 5 degrees with the wind chill factor on top. But the article was right. It was quiet.
Next morning I made the bold choice to buy a 2 day travel pass for the ACTv water bus service. 35 euros lighter I could now spend my next 2 days zipping around the city and islands with a zap of a pre-paid card. First stop San Marco, because well, you have to!
From September to April Venice experiences ‘Aqua Alta’ or high water. It floods a bit. The Venetian council kindly pop up raised platforms for you to walk along to keep your feet dry. These were all over San Marco. As were the big hotels, the Cipriani, Danieli, Gritti etc. Gondoliers are plenty too with a station every 50 yards or so. Not many takers as it’s so cold out on the water. The Doge’s Palace is undergoing some renovations with some major artworks off display. With this in mind I pass on the 30euro entrance fee. My Scottish blood runs thick when it comes to tourist entrance fees!
The Square itself is quiet and also undergoing a winter face lift. I can only imagine what it must be like in high summer. I congratulate myself again for coming now. I have a little wander through the back streets which are full of small shops selling Murano glassware. Knowing full well any purchases are unlikely to make the trip back intact (especially if BA insist on taking my hand baggage away at the gate to save cabin space again) so I decline the shopping opportunity. A small glass Santa as a Gondalier I fancied for my Christmas tree was eye wateringly expensive anyway. I seemed to be on a roll with the water bus so I wondered where it could take me next. On a complete whim I zapped my card and boarded the boat for Burano. It seems I am drawn to and never happier when on a boat heading for an island. I had heard it was colourful, but knew nothing else.
It looked uninspiring as I got off the boat. I followed some other people with the hope they knew where they were going and Bam! There is was. So pretty and definitely colourful. An assault on the eyes and the photo storage on my phone. I had to stop and remember to look with my eyes and be in the moment with where I was.
Venice is like no other city on earth, and every vista is an assault on your eyes and how you thought buildings could decorate a skyline. Every crumbling Palazzo has a beautiful Aqua Riva speed boat parked outside. Ladies of advancing years openly wear fur (I found this tricky) and everything is just so designed and …so Italian.
I came back to Rialto absolutely freezing. I dipped into a small bistro behind the bridge and had the best Minestrone soup I’ve ever tasted to warm myself up. I hadn’t eaten since I unashamedly over ate at breakfast in a bid to not eat much for the rest of the day. One good meal normally does me anyway.
I needed bottled water so I went into a local Co op supermarket. Oh the joy of a foreign supermarket. I could smash round with a trolley like Dale Winton on steroids! Then the crushing disappointment when I realise I’m not Nigella Lawson filming her latest cookery show and I can’t take any of it home. Bottled water it is.
I finished off with a takeaway cup of Gluwein and a Cannoli from a small cafe. With stiffened arteries I head back to the hotel for a hot shower to thaw out.
Gigi's Travels 