La Serenissima

After a hearty breakfast in Portenone, we drove a short way down to Sacile to take a train into Venice. We got off at the main station, and grabbed a all day vaporetto (water buses is the only way to describe them, really) pass at a handy tobacco shop and then did a fast fade off into the old Jewish quarter, where we surmised that the crowds would be lighter, as most tourists head directly to St. Mark's square, the Doge's Palace, and the Grand Canal. A very successful strategy, actually.

The crowds were nearly non-existent in that part of Venice, and we were able to stroll about looking at little shops and just inhaling the atmosphere of this unique city. We managed to wander into some mostly residential areas along the northern edge of things, where we saw the little old grandmothers making their way home from shopping, trattorias packed with smoking locals, and a great little kosher grocery where we picked up a bottle of prosecco and four plastic cups to keep us from being too parched on the way out to the island of Burano.

Venice was first established in the swamps of the coast by the merchant princes in the 6th century to provide a very efficient machine for separating tourists from their money, and it retains those ancient traditions to this day. There are a zillion shops filled with kitsch, African street vendors illegally selling knock off Prada, and more than enough high end legitimate shops hawking local wares to give you reason to leave home without your American Express. Burano lace and Murano glass were ubiquitous, but most vendors are touchy about photos, so you'll simply have to come and see these amazing and exquisite creations for yourself some day.

We enjoyed late lunch in Burano at Su E Zo of sea bass, salmon and calamari, talked with local glass makers whose families have been in the business for centuries, and very charming little old nona in a lace shop. 

The day was too short to really see it all, so by the time we made it to St. Mark's the museums had closed, and we didn't get a chance to see them, but we had a marvelous dinner by the Rialto bridge on the Grand Canal at Cafe di Saraceno with a water side table where we got to watch the gondolas go by with their cargos of lovers, young and old. Spaghetti a la Vongole, Broiled Dorado, Beef Steak with Peppercorns, a couple of nice bottles of Chardonnay, capped by a boat ride back down the canal to the train station again made it a most memorable day.

Playing for Pizza by John Grisham

I picked up the six CD version of this audio book at the library, having read nearly everything else Grisham has written over the years, hoping it would keep us entertained on our ten hour drive to the coast. It proved to be a witty and interesting story, not so much for the struggles of its protagonist, washed-up football player, Rick Dockery, but for the skillful way Grisham taught us all about Italy on the way to the Long Beach Peninsula.

Dockery has been cut from his sixth NFL team in eight years, after a disastrous series of interceptions in Cleveland's playoff game, when he single-handedly lost the championship for them and ended up in the hospital with his third severe concussion. His agent, Arnie, decides it would be best for him to get out of town - WAY out of town! - and finds him a job playing quarterback for a football team composed of has-beens and half-baked pigskin fanatics in Parma, Italy. At first it's just an escape and a very low-paying job, but eventually, as we might expect, Dockery begins to warm to Italy, its food, its people, and its culture.

Narrated in an upbeat style which didn't put us to sleep while driving, the book was fun, and managed to kill about half of the trip in either direction for us. We loved the descriptions of leisurely Italian meals, full of pasta, wine and loud, passionate conversations, and got a kick out of Rick's first immersion in  Italian opera, which left him hopelessly enamored of a beautiful soprano named Gabriella.

A few twists, a few turns, even a few familiar devices to stretch out the tension at times, definitely one of Grisham's more amusing works.

Tuscany by Jonathan Keates

Keates paints a beautiful picture of the midsection of Italy known as Tuscany in this travel guide. It's not a typical guide, listing places to stay, establishments to dine in, trains to catch, or handy phrases to know. It's more of a descriptive, narrative journey through the regions of Tuscany. Beautifully illustrated by landscape photographer Charlie Waite, the photos all seem to have a slightly mysterious and misty quality, lending the whole thing a bit of a fairytale air.

Keates is very well-versed in the history of Italy's warring factions, from the strictly secular to the papal succession rivals, and seems to have his finger well on the pulse of the literary and artistic scene of modern and ancient Italy. The area was named for the Etruscans who used to live her, six centuries or so before Christ, and I get the feeling that there is perhaps more history to be discovered in Italy than pretty much anywhere else.

He mentions St. Zita, the patroness of chambermaids, canonized in 1952...I guess every profession needs a patron saint, eh? Patron saint of network administrators?

His turn of phrase is often amusing:

"Now the island is a haven for wildlife outside the annual period of grotesque carnage which passes in Italy for 'hunting'".

He speaks of the Fortezza Orsini, "built on medieval foundations by the Sienese architect Anton Maria Lari in 1552 and traditionally never taken by besiegers."

How's that work? The besiegers are about to break down the gate, rape the women, pillage the treasury, and one of the guardsmen says, "You can't do that! We have a tradition, you know."

If you're not interested in a practical how-to guide, but enjoy a rambling, bumbling sort of tour, not in any great hurry, you'd do well to pick up Keates' guide.