Tale guide

Venice - the jewel of the North

Over the centuries Venice has received any number of romantic adorations. Names like ‘City of Bridges’, ‘City of Canals’, ‘City of Masks’, ‘The floating City’ and ‘Queen of the Adriatic’, amongst many others.

Ann decided to trigger the imagination with “See Venice and die,” and we thought at the time that it would be best to get on with it before it’s too late!

In the early 2000s, we took advantage of a package cruise on the Norwegian Jade, a luxury liner departing to the Greek Islands from Venice which gave us the opportunity to extend our stay for four days in Venice at the end of the cruise, before flying home to South Africa.

Upon arrival, we spent a night in the Grand Canal Hotel before boarding the cruise ship and frankly, we were enthralled from the moment we took the water taxi from the airport to the hotel, only to find out later that we could have walked it in less than five minutes!

It is very difficult to explain how captivating this ancient and unique city is to the uninitiated. One’s senses are so bombarded by the history, architecture, waterways, pavement bistros, art, music and people that it is simply impossible to describe how wonderful it was to spend a few days wandering the pathways and canals and taking in the sights and sounds of everyday life there.

But for starters, the first part of the journey sailed us away to the Greek islands of Corfu, Katakolon, Santorini and Mykonos before taking us back to Venice.

The Greek Islands are beautiful and although seeped in the ancient mythology of Greece, they are principally holiday and tourist destinations.

Santorini is the playground of the very rich and famous. We settled for a day visit to the island and an expensive glass of Chianti Classico, while staring out over the sapphire blue sea framed by the white walled homes that hug the cliff side.

At Katakolon, we were taken to the ruins of the original Olympic games where we found the Temple that was built in the fifth century BC and dedicated to the mythical God Zeus.

In the afternoon, we had lunch in a Taverna and were entertained to bouzouki music and Greek dancing. I was hauled out onto the floor by a young Greek lass and gave ‘Zorba’ a go until the beat sped up and I tripped over myself and fell onto a table, much to the amusement of all.

In response to my calamity, the crowd clapped hands in time with the music and started to throw plates on the floor until they broke into pieces and cried “Oupa!” over and over again. How utterly embarrassing.

There were many signs of the terrible recession that had befallen Greece at that time. The shorelines of the islands were populated by brightly painted shops and tavernas, plenty of umbrellas and outside tables at which the tourists could enjoy the uniqueness of Greek cuisine and hospitality while gazing out over the turquoise seas amidst plenty of music and atmosphere; But with the exception of Santorini, once one passed the first line of buildings and into the islands behind the tourist traps, the villages and towns looked desperately run down and impoverished.

But it was Venice that truly captured our hearts.

Of course, the Venetians are equally aware of the effect their magical city has on the millions of tourists that descend on it every year and one would normally be on one’s guard, so to speak! But, silly me got caught hook, line, and sinker!

Ann and I were sitting at a cosy little table for two on the pavement outside a typical Italian trattoria watching the people, gondolas and many kinds of boats make their way past us when a flower seller approached the table and presented a stunning bunch of red roses to Ann.

“I can see,” he announced graciously, “the beautiful lady is a visitor to’a, my’a city.” Ann was as much taken aback as I and she was also obviously quite flattered by the gesture, particularly when he said, “I wanna to give you this roses because you are-a very beautiful lady!”

Ann accepted the roses equally graciously. I mean, what young lady wouldn’t?

“Signore,” the generous flower seller then turned to me. “She is-a beautiful, Sì?”

“Of course,” I replied smiling broadly, “grazie.”

“Piasere,” he said gracefully. “Would you be so kind-a and help-a me with a small-a donation,” he continued, with an extended hand and the slightest hint of appeal in his tone.

“How much?” I asked falling headlong into the trap with no way out.

“Only a twenty Euro,” came the quick reply.

Charming, clever, expensive, and good for a laugh if only to cover my embarrasment at being taken - once again!

“Let’s try-a ‘nother bottle of-a Prosecco and maybe soma Frutti di Mare!” I suggested to the beautiful lady in my best Italian.

There was so much to take in and try and tell that I thought it best to rather share the pictures.

We explored the Doge’s Palace and St Marc’s Basilica. We took a Gondola on a trip through the narrow waterways past private homes in buildings many hundreds, perhaps thousands of years old. We walked the pathways to local markets.

We enjoyed ice cold glasses of water on cobbled piazzas, strolled for hours along avenues over carved bridges and under pergolas hanging full with greenery and flowers, and almost got lost in the maze of narrow canals and street paths.

We took a water taxi to the island of Murano and visited one of the world-famous glass blowing workshops on the quayside and looked on as a master demonstrated a skill thousands of years old.

One day, we hope return to Italy and Venice in particular, God willing.

Grazie!