Siccome la casa brucia, riscaldiamoci.
(an Italian proverb that translates as Since the house is on fire, let us warm ourselves.)
At five in the morning we stood on the Rialto bridge with the seagulls swooping and crying.
In a moment we would wander to the vaporetto stop on the left where we would discover no boat was [...]
Venice can only be compared to itself.
~Goethe
They call Venice the city of light and the city of water for a reason. The play of light on the water is the most lovely thing, and the most impossible to photograph.
Everything has a murky sparkling quality–in the day the reflections are shadowy and distort the [...]
Streets flooded. Please advise.
~Robert Benchley, telegram from Venice to his editor
Venice is by far my favorite walking city. Winding through the narrow stone corridors is a sensual experience acoustically, visually, tactically, olfactorally. Probably interesting if you lick it too, but I didn’t go that far.
The towering, cool stone apartments leaning inward making bright blue strips [...]
The fish market by Rialto is also farmer’s market that puts all in New York to shame. The current structure was built in 1917 (dig that frowning column topper), but fish have been sold here for 600 years. This was two streets from our apartment in San Polo. Every morning I walked out and immediately [...]
In 1787 Goethe wrote of his experience in Italy, “I seem to be completely different person who I hardly recognize. Yesterday I thought to myself: Either you were mad before, or you are mad now.”
On our first day “back” we traveled by boat, bus, ferry and foot along the long stretch of Lido and beyond [...]
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand.
Lord Byron~ Childe Harold (canto IV, st. 1)
This has been a surreal and life-changing trip. Lying in bed for six days was heart-breaking after years of wanting to see Venice, but more so, it was frightening. The day after [...]
Venice is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs in one go.
~Truman Capote
Tonight, after another day of resting on my back and dreaming of the city beyond my windows–the world of birds and bells—the menfolk return to roast a chicken and potatoes and flourishing salad and a lily for me, now displayed on the [...]
I woke up to bells. Bells, bells, more bells. I thought perhaps I could discover the time by counting the rings–in the first round I got to sixty-six. Then the next church bell began, layering on the first. That is Sunday morning in Venice, much like Sunday dusk in Venice:
We are in the sestieri [...]