May 5: Murano

Murano, Italy

After a wonderful night sleep, Peter and I made plans to visit two of the northern islands today - Murano and Burano. Murano is known for its glass-blowing industry and Burano is known for its colorful houses, but first … Peter wanted to bet on the Kentucky Derby which was going to run late this afternoon (EDT). Challenges lay ahead. First, access to the internet is spotty at best here, and second, when you're on the internet everything is VERY slow. It took Peter all morning to place only $3.00 of bets, which left both of us frustrated and cranky, for different reasons. With an agreement to return to the hotel by 5:00 p.m. so he could resume his betting efforts, Peter and I headed out to see the islands. The owner of our "hostel", Giuliano, recommended we walk north to the northern coast of Cannaregio to pick up the 41/42 Vaporetti to Murano, and then later to take the 14 (formerly known as 13 and changed for no known reason) to Burano. He said we could easily pick up a 14 to return us to Piazza San Marco.

We set off and quickly knew we were not on the path Giuliano had recommended but we were happy to be discovering more of Venice. Under normal circumstances I would consult my watch and the sun to determine if we were at least walking in the right direction, but the "streets" are often only narrow passage ways, only two people-wide, and the walls are high, so it's impossible to take your bearings on the sun. We eventually saw signs for the Hospital, which was one of the landmarks, Giuliano suggested we use to find our way, and once we skirted Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, we could see the Canal and islands in the distance.

We boarded a 41 around 2:00 p.m. feeling accomplished and hungry, and looking forward to a good lunch on Murano, but events would unfold differently. The 41 comes FROM Murano and travels west and south heading for the Grand Canal. It took several stops before I could convince Peter that, in fact, Murano was getting further away and we, in fact, were turning south, away from this northern island. We got off at the next stop and hopped on a 42 heading in the opposite direction. As always we weren't terribly disturbed about seeing new parts of this complex city of islands, but we were also seeing time eaten away.

Lunch was now our next order of business and my Rough Guide said that Busa Alla Torre was the best place to eat on the island … it also said it stopped serving lunch at 3:00 p.m., an hour that was rapidly approaching. Dashing off the Vaporetto, along the cobblestone path running parallel to the canal, and over two bridges, we arrived breathless and hungry in the Campo just before closing.

Rain was threatening by now - you could smell it in the air - but we ate outside under large umbrellas in spite. Pino Grigio was a fine complement to our Gnocchi with Salmon, Four Cheese Ravioli and a large mixed green salad. Over coffee, we re-ordered our itinerary once more and agreed that, given the hour - approaching 4:00 p.m. - Burano would have to be saved for another day. 

The waiters were now breaking down the tables, chairs and umbrellas around us. The square that had been half filled now had only three remaining tables, one occupied by a couple and their very gregarious and energetic daughter who was happily chasing and feeding the pigeons, one occupied by a group of five uniformed Carabinieri enjoying a coffee break, and one occupied by us. Peter decided to visit "the Gents" before moving on and as he was getting up, his foot caught the edge of the table, toppling the water glasses and soaking me in the process. The waiters provided me with napkins to dry off with and Peter continued on. When he returned his expression struck me as very odd. Once on the far side of the square, Peter fessed up and sheepishly explained that he was "taking care of business" when the door to his stall opened, and there, of all things, was the female Carabinieri. With embarrassment all around, she pulled the door shut and moved on. Peter successfully locked the stall door now only to hear mother and child trying to open it. As he left the stall, the gregarious little girl boldly, clearly, and repeatedly informed Peter, "You're in the wrong room! You're in the wrong room!" It wasn't until he looked over his shoulder as he exited the room that he caught that ever-familiar figure with a skirt tucked in the corner next to the door.

Murano Glass

Another adventure behind us, we walked along the canal peering in all of the shops with the beautiful Murano glass. Suddenly, my iPhone announced that I'd received a text message, and I had a brief exchange with a good friend from home. It seemed hard to believe that I could be walking this small island in Italy and have the ability to text half way around the world … I do love technology.

There was a rainbow to the south when we were returning to San Marco, clearly indicating that there had been heavy rain somewhere, just not where we had been - yeah! It was a little before 6:00 p.m. when Peter returned to the computer to place his bets for the Derby. "Expletive deleteds" darted through the air as absolutely nothing was working for him. Finally, he decided to go to an Internet Cafe around the corner to see if they have better access to the internet. It's there that he learned that the Italian government was standing in his way. The man who runs the cafe told Peter that the Italian government prohibits access to these gambling sights, and showed him a list specifically naming the sight he was now trying to get to. Frustrated AND defeated, Peter climbed the three stories of stairs wishing life could be a lot easier.

Piazza San Marco

Today is the day before the full moon when the moon rises before the sun sets and we could capture it in a well-lit landscape, or in this case seascape. We have been excited about this for months, imagining what it would be like to see the nearly-full moon rise out of the sea right next to the Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore. Clouds nearly dashed all of our hopes. A large cloud bank hung on the horizon when we got to the Piazza, which was teaming with tourists still. Undeterred we re-focused our attention on the lagoon, the gondolas, and the magnificent buildings around us, and then … drum-roll please … the biggest, brightest moon I've ever seen appeared half-covered with clouds - clouds that very quickly drifted away. The moon now shone brightly in the sky and its light danced upon the waters. We couldn't capture the images fast enough. 

The trials of the day seemed to be fading as we ecstatically photographed everything around us, Peter on one end of the waterfront and me on the other. Suddenly a young man with a camera around his neck was talking to me, speaking in very broken English. He was pointing to the bridge, where some woman was waving to us. I thought he might want me to take his picture, but he made no movements toward that end, he just continued to point to the bridge, saying the word bridge. I asked him what language he spoke, because I thought we might be able to communicate in French. He answered "English" which was obviously not the case. I decided to turn my back on him and return to my tripod and "shooting the moon". I thought nothing further about him.

Framing one image, I decided I had to move a foot to the left and I did, after which a young blond guy came up behind me and firmly poked me in the shoulder. I turned and saw him standing several feet behind me with a tripod, so I assumed I might have stepped into his shot. I apologized noting that I had no idea he was there. I continued to take pictures when suddenly, this young blond man, now wearing round glasses, came up right next to me and placed his tripod so its leg crossed mine. It was painfully apparent to me that either he desperately wanted to stand where I was standing for his picture, or these three people were somehow trying to run a "scam" on me - to separate me from some or all of my equipment. I relinquished my spot to the blond and quickly found Peter shooting in front of the gondolas. He heard my story and approached the woman of the group who was now on the waterfront with a tripod. As she was denying any wrong doing, the two guys approached to hear the exchange. Peter withdrew and very soon thereafter these three were no where to be seen. When I asked Peter what he'd said, he said I could hear it first hand when we watched what was recorded on the Go-Pro strapped to his chest. Perhaps that was the incentive for them to leave so quickly.

A little disheartened, I told Peter I was done for the night and we returned to our room to see the images we'd captured. A smile returned to my heart when I saw that we'd not only captured the moon rising over lagoon but we also got blue hour in Piazza San Marco - for us … once in a lifetime events.

Full Moon Over the Lagoon in Venice


Buona notte!

Comments

[Victoria Magliaro]

Que Bella Luna!

[Sally Ward]

Love the picture of the moon!!!! Laughed till I cried about the ladies room and glad you are ok!!!!!!!!!!!

[Paul Angotta]

The pics are beautiful but I had a similar 'tough' experience in Venice - very rude gondola guy. Glad to hear it didn't stop the fun - please keep the updates coming!

[Ally]

Your experience was so creepy. I am glad to hear it did not mar your day or your photos. As I was reading this, I had a sense of foreboding and I was relieved nothing "bad" happened when I reached the end. Gorgeous photos. So great to hear about your trip,foibles and all. Beware the Ladies Room Peter!