San Marco:July, 2007

When we arrived back at the Hotel Carlton & Grand Canal, Cheryl and Rollie were already in their room.

Unfortunately, Julie and Amy were staying at the Centauro, a hotel which Julie selected in order to be near St. Mark’s Square for their second day in Venice, so we had to rush to get showered and changed in order to find their hotel before it got dark.

This also would be the only chance Jay and I would have to see St. Mark’s Square before flying out in the morning.

We had Julie’s and Amy’s bags at our hotel with our own luggage, but since they only needed one suitcase for their last two nights in Europe, we only had to take one across town.

About the time we finished getting dressed, Gina, Laszlo and Jered arrived.

Cheryl and Rollie had chosen to relax in their room awaiting the arrival of the final trio, and after their long walk, the trio wanted a break before rushing out.

Julie, Jay, Amy and I needed to go immediately.

Again, cell phones would have helped, but of necessity we broke into two groups again.


We had no trouble finding the Centauro, a three star hotel located “a stone’s throw” from St. Mark’s Square, despite the fact that it was down a poorly marked alley.

When we dropped off Julie's and Amy's bags, it turned out the air conditioning only worked when the room key activated it, so the room was quite hot and stuffy.

Considering that the next day they went back to Campo Santa Margherita so Julie could see the area we enjoyed so much and Amy could go to the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit, it seems to me they would have been far ahead staying at our hotel.

Hindsight is 20-20, however, and we still wanted to see St. Mark’s Square.

Walking through Venice along canals and down alleyways at dusk was very pleasant, and when we arrived at St. Mark’s Square, we did not find crowds of people or pigeons as we expected.

We found a nearly deserted, picturesque setting where three orchestras at different restaurants took turns performing for the privileged few who happened to be there at this opportune time.

The ragtime stylings of Scott Joplin from one band did not seem quite as appropriate as the more classic European music played by the other bands, but it was all good.

After soaking in as much as we could as the sun set, we began searching for a restaurant.

Jay and I were still stuffed from lunch, but the girls were hungry.

After passing on several crowded eateries by the square and a lovely but very expensive hotel restaurant on a quiet canal, we wandered back toward the Grand Canal, where on a quiet passageway we found a little restaurant that must have been a few hundred years old.

It definitely wasn’t the top choice of tourists, but we liked the recorded jazz playing when we arrived, and the atmosphere felt right for Venice.

Julie and Amy ordered pasta dishes, but Jay and I passed on the food.

I had another glass of that excellent Venetian Chianti (okay, I don’t know if it is made anywhere near Venice, but it tasted like Venice), and we drank lots of bottled water.

Amy couldn’t finish her meal because of having such a large lunch, and the chef apparently took offense.


He came to our table and put a lot of Parmesan cheese on her dish.

He motioned for her taste it again.

Obliging Amy smiled, took another couple of bites, and said it was good, but she was full.

I’m not sure the chef understood, but having him come to the table with such concern capped off another great experience.


After we reached the Grand Canal, we walked the short distance to next to the Bridge of Sighs, where we enjoyed one last gelato, but the kids said they were tired and wanted to get back to their rooms.

They also passed on the seemingly obligatory gondola ride.

I kissed my wife goodnight in the most romantic city in the world and went off with my son on a water bus to our hotel, and she and Amy walked back to their hotel.

The others had enjoyed a wonderful dinner experience of their own on the Grand Canal at a restaurant straddling the sidewalk and a dock where most of the tables were.

They reported that the most memorable moment came when a water ambulance approached with siren blaring, and the waiter, struggling to convey what needed to be said in English, said something about the water.

Gina’s chair was situated above the crack by the sidewalk, and when the ambulance screamed by, a spout of water shot up, drenching her.

In her always good-natured way, Gina broke the tension by laughing, and then everyone in the restaurant laughed.

The waiter said, “Welcome to Venice.”