Venice

Bill Quirie

It was late February when my wife reminded me that as it was our Silver Wedding anniversary soon, she would like to visit Venice for a few days. I said that would be fine, and that I would book it for her. However, she did add that I was going with her, yet she knew I had never ever wanted to go to Venice.

Why would anyone want to go to a city that only had boats for transport, unless of course it was in Bora Bora in the South Pacific, now that I could understand. In addition what about the pungent canals, the hordes of annoying tourists being shepherded about, and some fat 'oik' in a gondola singing off key, whilst trying to sound romantic, at the same time as charging you a fortune for the 'so called' pleasure.

This had all the hallmarks of a disaster waiting to happen.

I made all the necessary arrangements ensuring that I booked through a reputable travel agent, so that if anything went wrong, which I was sure it would, I could then sue the aforementioned agent. I had arranged that we would stay in a smart 4 star hotel just by St Marks Square, this was done so that I would at least have a decent place to stay in when the wheel came off this trip.

Then came the day, and after a pleasant flight we landed at Marco Polo Airport in Venice. We had previously been advised by a friend to buy a three day pass for the vaparettos (waterbus) at the airport on arrival. This I did although I was told we would have to travel by normal bus over the causeway and then catch the vaparetto at Piazzale Roma terminus. The journey on the bus made me realise that all my fears were going to come true, we passed some small villages which had all the appeal and grandeur of a third world Stalanist state, this trip was living up to all my fears, and it had the clear makings the disaster I expected. At the Piazza all the directions for the vaparettos were in Italian, no English anywhere, super I thought. Eventually we found that the Number One waterbus would take us to St Marks Square, however we neglected to notice that there were two Number One vaparettos, one went south, the quick way, the other round some outer islands, being the long way. Naturally, we were on the long route. Every vision I had about this ghastly trip was living up to expectations.

After a period of some 15 minutes I noticed that the water did not smell, and that it was a lovely turquoise colour, it was also warm and sunny and before I knew it I had a smile on my face. The nearby buildings were breathtaking to behold, and the boat traffic seemed to have no proper right of way in existence, but I was too busy drowning in the sights, and sounds of the waterbus journey. The vaparetto stopped at many places on both sides of the lagoon, everything appeared very relaxed, yet cavalier, in its operation, and the number of people on our waterbus at one point made me realise how lucky the Venetians were, not to have the Health and Safety Gestapo, which Britain seems to be blighted with these days.

We soon reached St. Marks Square, and the noise of all the different languages suddenly took hold of us, the various church bells were all trying to outgong each other, and there were tour groups here, tour groups there, tour groups everywhere, from every country imaginable, and all moving in every direction possible, we were lost in a cacophony of sound, annoying yet strangely exhilarating. I felt really alive, and looking forward to whatever came next.

Our Hotel was a peaceful oasis in a desert of humanity; soon we were changed, and headed out into the fray. The narrow streets were an Aladdins cave of small shops selling lace, sweets and delicacies, cameras, clothes, books, souvenirs, Venetian Glass from Murano Island and of course, festival masks.

I was transported from being a doubting, depressed; don't want to be here fool, to someone who was truly hooked on this magical city. Within one hour of arriving by waterbus I was like a child with a new toy, this was heaven. We walked, and we walked, and how we walked, covering all the main sights in our too few days in Venice, God it was wonderful.

So if you ever meet someone who expresses negative views about Venice, before they have even been there, send them to me, for I can say that I also used to have such silly views before I made my first trip to Venice, and now I can't wait to go back again.

On my very first day in Venice, it breathed new life into my ageing body, and it also changed this 'seriously grumpy old man's' views of this beautiful city.

Venice is truly a jewel to be seen, and most definitely enjoyed by everyone, even a grumpy old man; thankfully this one had a sensible wife, who had made him come to Venice!