Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts

Thursday, February 12, 2009

New York does Venetian Carnival

Carnevale di Venezia officially begins on Saturday, but the Venetian-born Cipriani clan got a head start on the masquerading last night at a black-tie "upstairs" soiree in Soho. Guests arrived in a variety of masks ranging from Zorro-chic to feathery showgirl. But despite the largely Italian crowd, there weren't many authentic Venetian masks to be admired.

I happened to score one of the few "real deal" maschera (inside connection). It's the plaster kind with strings to tie and braided cord around the edges. The kind that dangles from every street vendors' cart along Salizada Pio X. Lucky for me, too. Had I not scored it I would have been parading around in this newfangled "mask on a headband" get-up with a headband sized for a small toddler. It seemed to be the mask of choice last night, despite its lack of authenticity and awkward dimensions. I guess it is somewhat functional...it can be lifted up like a welder's mask for fresh air or to regain some peripheral vision, and just as quickly snapped back into place for instant incognito.
If you're hunting for a Carnival mask in NYC, headbanded or otherwise, you'll find them here:

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Mission Possible: 5-Star Pool Crashing

There comes a time in every backpackers' journey when we need a little luxury. A little reminder of la dolce vita. For me and fellow 'packer, Stephanie, the time was this weekend.

Don't get me wrong, I love being on the road, sleeping in hostel bunk beds, wearing t-shits with holes in them and living off free breakfast croissants. But on my final weekend in Treviso it was 5-star service we were after. Our sights were set on the most luxurious hotel in Venice, San Clemente Palace, a converted monastery on a private island which boasts a modest 800 Euro/night price tag and can only be reached by the hotel's personal water taxi.

Unfortunately our desire to be pampered didn't really jive with the collective 20 Euro we had in our wallets so any chance of living the high life would require creativity, charm and maybe a few white lies.

Which takes me to midday Saturday--Piazza San Marco, Venice. Our plan was clear: Find the dock where San Clemente's guests board their exclusive water taxi and hop on. Once we arrive at the private island, follow signs to the pool. Change into bathing suits in the cabana and assume tanning position in pool-side lounge chairs. Our mantra was simple, "If you believe it, they will too."
The photos tell the rest of the story...

Waiting patiently on the dock for the complimentary water taxi


Enjoying the ride

Trying to hunt down the pool without looking suspicious

A quick change into our bathing suits

Pool-side tennis courts

Total relaxation (and really soft frette towels) Heading back to San Marco after three hours of sunning. We drove the boat back. Thanks Signoro Papas!

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Yo Ho Yo Ho...A Pirate's Life For Me

I voyaged across Venice's savage seas one glistening afternoon in search of some rare pirate's booty - Murano's hand-blow glass.

The bow of the ship was packed with other treasure hunters, but I lucky snagged a seat on the stern, across from these two jolly mates. They seemed like old childhood friends and they had such playful banter, as many Italians do. I was captivated by them and kept staring at the one in the shrunken yellow beanie. It was as if I already knew him. Was he from Treviso? Was he the same man that I crashed into with my bike? And then it hit me...

He's Mr. Smee, Captain Hook's lovable right-hand man in Disney's Peter Pan! Of course! A real pirate only 20 minutes from home. Who would have thought?

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Martedi Grasso (Fat Tuesday)

Staying true to my promise, I docked another 18 consecutive hours of feste in Venice, again, all with journalistic intent.

On "Fat Tuesday" morning my partner in crime, Steph, was still feeling the burn from our Saturday evening festivities so I was faced with a choice. Skip the biggest party at Carnival or take on Venice...ALONE! Of course, anyone who knows me knows my choice. I put on my black riding boots, loaded my pockets with the essentials (camera, mobile, and some Euros) and set out on what ended up being an 18-hour adventure that could only happen at Carnevale. Now, for the recap:

Top 8 Blog-Worthy Moments - Fat Tuesday, Venezia 2008


8. Playing hide and seek with le maschere around the columns of the Palazzo Ducale...
























7. Drumming in excess...


















6. Men in drag! The first I've seen since leaving New York City. Hubba Hubba!






5. Meeting Americans and gladly reverting back to American English!! Which, like, means like, saying "like" alot.



4. Drinking Vin Brulè for 2 Euro on the Rialto Bridge







3. Salsa dancing with men who actually know how to move their hips (not Americans)




2. Pitura Freska concert in Piazza San Marco...sung entirely in Venetian dialect. (my video won't upload so I pulled this from YouTube)...





1. The Nutella Fairy who left a snack pack on the seat next to me while I slept on the train! Truly magic!


Saturday, February 9, 2008

This is Carnevale

I felt it my necessary duty as a travel blogger to dock as many hours as possible at Carnevale. Strictly for research purposes, of course. So after a serious 12-hour run this Saturday, I am now posed with the challenge of describing Carnevale in words. Almost impossible, but here is my best shot.

Close your eyes and imagine Halloween, Winter Music Conference, New Year's Eve, Mardi Gras Cirque du Soleil, and an 18th Century masquerade ball. Now roll them all into one big party and paint Venice as your backdrop. Add thousands of people all pulsing to the same drum beat as they dance through the narrow alleys and spill out into grand squares. Add endless bottles of red wine. Feel the mist of a light rain and hear dozens of foreign languages around you.
Open your eyes. This is Carnevale.





More serious journalistic reporting to come from Fat Tuesday. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

First Impressions: A Girl in Venice

Venice without a camera in hand is a crime, I know. But that was the predicament yesterday for my first ever trip to Venezia. But I`m not worried. Yesterday was one of what I plan to be dozens of trips to this extraordinary city, seeing as it is a stone´s throw from Treviso. I calculated the travel time by train and it´s the equivalent of a subway ride from my apartment in Greenwich Village to my friend`s pad on 81st and Riverside...20 minutes. And train tickets are whopping 3 Euros round trip. Does it get any better?

Back to yesterday. I taught 2 English lessons in the morning but have a rather light afternoon on Mondays so my colleague Francesca decided it was the perfect opportunity to escape to Venice. To build some stamina for our afternoon of sightseeing, Francesca prepared what was, for Italian standards, a light lunch of pepperoncini stuffed with anchovies and capers and rigatoni con pomodoro. We washed it down with a bit of Soave and some caffe.

The late morning downpour had the potential to spoil the trip, as Venice in the rain means high tide and immediatly flooded streets. But what began as a gloomy Monday morning, blossomed into a magically foggy afternoon and it couldn`t have been a more perfect backdrop for Venezia. My first impression was one of complete awe. I did a slow 360 twirl with my eyes perched upward at the incredible balconies and green painted shutters above me, then became affixed with a small motor taxi that zipped in front of me, a gondola that glided behind me...and a water ambulance that hurried by my left.

Oh my god...I am really in Venice.

I had goose bumps for the next two hours as Francesca and I strolled about the misty Calle (narrow streets) and crossed bridge after bridge. We paused on the famous Rialto amidst a small group of camera-happy tourists. Instead of searching for photo ops I found a calm space on the bridge´s ledge and watched the silouttes of three gondaliers rowing in tandum slowing fade into the distance.

Next was Piazza San Marco. It humbled me. I experienced a rare moment of bliss when I stood right in the center of the nearly empty square surrounded by hundreds of glowing white lights. I closed my eyes as the bell tower chimed five times. Each time the hair on my neck rose slightly higher. When I opened my eyes I realized that I had a huge grin on my face...it stayed there the rest of the afternoon.

Francesca was full of funny anecdotes. I especially like the one she told me about the Chinese man last summer who set up a little lemonade-like stand in one of the campi (like a small piazza). But instead of beverages he was selling plastic bags of water from the canal...50 cents a bag. I just can`t imagine that going over as well along the Hudson River.

From campo to campo we went, window shopping in designer boutiques, and pointing out osterie that we would like to one day visit. One campo had a charming mercatino where vendors were closing sales on local delicacies. Another was milling with university students procrastinating their evening of term papers and dissertations. My favorite campo was quite vacant of people but filled instead with the sound of a single violinist. His notes rang out like the far cry of a wolf.

The afternoon slid into evening without notice, but as the bell tower struck six, my tiring legs knew it was time to say goodbye to Venezia...at least for now.

Luckily I have a rare break this weekend...NO WORK ON SATURDAY!

To Venice or BUST!