Venice, Italy

The north of Italy reminds a bit of the Midwestern plains of the United States, if the Rockies were not quite so tall, and constantly looming in the distance. This is where Ernest Hemingway was injured during WWI, and this is also the setting of his novel written a decade later, A Farewell to Arms. Even though it was here where he experienced the horrors of war, Hemingway seems to have always been attracted to this part of the world, and simply staring out over vineyards, and numerous green fields with flecks of brown, it’s easy to see why.

Hemingway’s stories are not without their romance. Various cafes and characters in Paris may have ignited this spark in his writing, but his trips to Venice surely fueled the flame.

Our train rolled quietly from the plains onto the thin causeway connecting Venice to the mainland. It was not until I began planning for this trip that I learned Venice was and island, and it was not until we began our trip that I learned Venice is without a single automobile because it is really a series of islands. Water is everywhere. The guidebook says that Venice is made up of 181 small masses of land connected by dozens of bridges. Canals of various length and size cut between a maze of four story Venetian apartments, hotels, and houses. At are tourists everywhere, many of them with maps out, trying to solve the labyrinth of narrow tunnels and side streets. The first night we arrived, Lauren and I just headed out. This may be the most confusing city we have walked, but a wrong turn here leaves you a five-minute walk away from an answer. The city itself is small, and packed with people. Still, I was never overwhelmed. It’s easy to find an escape from the crowds by ducking into a café or gellateria. Gellatto, by the way, is king in Venice. It is all over the place. Just down the street from our hotel there is a gellateria that boasts 40 different flavours! I wasn’t sure that I would be able to restrain myself, but I left Venice being able to count the number of scoops I downed on one hand.

After our first night in Venice we woke up and went exploring. As I said before, there are no cars in Venice; however, the public transportation is quite efficient. On two 12 hour passes we were able to cruise all over the city, hopping on and off ferries wherever we liked. Our first destination of the day was San Marco’s Piazze. I had seen pictures of San Marco’s severely flooded, but was pleasantly surprised to find the area very dry, but not much more than a few feet above the water. We have seen so many beautiful churches and squares, and this was no different. There were so many different, fascinating sculptures, gargoyles, statues, and icons. This was honestly a place well worth visiting after having studied more of the history. While in awe, I still felt that a great deal of significance was lost due to my own ignorance of the images surrounding me. For instance, I’m not sure why, but the image of a lion with wings is etched into hundreds of buildins, and flown on flags all over the city. It’s quite a majestic figure, and at San Marco’s this lion was everywhere. Sometimes the lion was transformed into a full blown Griffin with a beak and claws. In other statues clearly illustrated one of my favorite biblical images, as the lion was holding a lamb. The images in Venice are definitely more welcoming then the terrifying demons all over the outside of Notre Dame.

After walking around the plaza, and taking a bunch of pictures in the hot sun we needed to sit down for a bit, so we decided to make are next stop of significance. Right next to San Marco’s is Harry’s Bar. This is a place where Hemingway, once he had the money I suppose, used to frequent. Well, we walked past the place twice, then finally noticed a couple of completely etched window displaying “Harry’s.” After more searching, we finally found the door to this place and entered. Right away we were greeted by one of four white coated, slick haired waiters leaning against a polished wooden bar on the left. I felt like we had arrived in Rick’s Café. The Bogart look-alike who greeted us gave us menus and a table on the side. I took a moment to take in my surroundings, you know, to look for a glass case of first editions, an autographed picture, anything to prove we were in a place of great literary inspiration. I guess this was not that kind of place. It wasn’t a very big room and for 1:30 in the afternoon, pretty empty, I thought. We flipped open the menu, I could tell Lauren was going to let me make the call, so I decided we were more in the mood for something to eat. We stood up, politely said grazie and strolled down the street for some delicious lasagna, my favorite food and first of the trip.

What happened at Harry’s? Come on, no amount of nostalgia, especially for a time I’ve only experienced in books in movies is going to compel me to pay 19euro ($25.00 plus gratuity) for a drink. I’ll leave that to Robert Deniro and Tom Cruise, two more of Harry’s celebrated patrons.