After another hotel breakfast with more canned fruit salad, we met our guide from yesterday, Elizabetta, for a tour of the nearby Accademia Art Museum. The Accademia was originally an art school, and its collections are displayed chronologically, starting in the 14th century. She pointed out how painting techniques changed in religious art throughout history. While it was fascinating, it was hard to pay attention since I was tired and my legs were hurting.
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| San Barnaba Church |
Finishing around
11 a.m., we were now on our own until 6 p.m. when Donato had scheduled a
gondola ride for us. On his suggestion, we decided to go to Ca’ Rezzonico, a
lavish palace of the aristocracy, by way of San Barnaba Church, whose claim to
fame was being featured in the movie, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.” I
don’t remember the movie, and whatever part of the church you were supposed to
recognize in the film was hidden by with what turned out to be a much more
interesting display.
They were hosting a permanent exhibit with hands-on models of Leonardo Da Vinci’s machine inventions. There were sections on hydraulics, mechanics, and war machines. It was a civil engineer’s dream. Oh, hey; we have one of those with us. Patrick, who works for the Corps of Engineers, stayed to inspect each item at his leisure while Lou, Greg and I moved on to the palace a few streets over.
Lou bought a Homer Simpson t-shirt for her son, John.
This palace was
furnished, as it would have been in the 17th century. It was
beautiful, but it was four stories, and I was getting more and more tired. My
legs were really starting to hurt. Greg stopped after two floors while Lou and
I sped through the third and fourth floors. 
By now, it was 1:30 p.m. and once
again we still hadn’t eaten. As my blood sugar continued to drop we walked back
to the church to find Pat. He was gone?! He thought we were meeting somewhere
else. I had no energy to go somewhere else except to find food. So after some
texting, we met up and decided to walk back to a restaurant near our hotel. We
arrived to find there was a 30-minute wait. I pretty much crawled toward the gelato
stand on the corner where we bought sandwiches and sodas to go. 
We ended up
having a picnic lunch on the patio of our hotel. We all agreed a one-hour nap
was in order before going to the Correr Museum. We had already purchased
tickets to this museum when we visited the Doge’s Palace in St. Mark’s Square,
and this would be our last chance to use them.
I knew that an
hour nap was not going to be enough for me. I had officially “bottomed out.” I
chose to skip the museum, and rest with my legs elevated until it was time to
meet for the gondola ride at 6 p.m. I was excited to find my way to St. Mark’s
Square by myself. I gave myself an hour so I could walk slowly, and do a little
window-shopping on the way.
Everyone in our
group decided to go on the gondola ride except for John and his wife, Rochelle,
who was prone to seasickness. Near the square was a dock for the gondolas where
our group was divided up and loaded into five boats. 
Assuming we had a private
tour, I thought it was odd, that two men I didn’t know got into the 3rd
gondola, with members of our group. It turned out that they were the baritone
singer and accordion player who would be serenading us throughout our outing.
To add to the amusement park feel of our “ride,” there was a photographer who
would take your picture as you left and then welcome you back with an
opportunity to purchase your photo. We bought ours. 
The 40-minute trip was
delightful. We weaved our way through the narrow canals until we turned onto
the Grand Canal right by the Rialto Bridge. The larger waterway was much busier
and the gondolas rocked some as we hit the wakes of nearby motorboats, which
proved that Rochelle had made the correct decision not to join us.
I really
felt like I was experiencing a moment from history, until I looked over and
realized one of the gondoliers was on his cell phone for most of the trip.
On
the way back, at a “T” intersection, I looked up and noticed two large
“side-view” mirrors mounted on the wall so the gondoliers could see if anyone
was coming. Very clever. 
By now--you
guessed it--time to eat again. The four of us went looking for a casual place
to eat near St. Mark’s Square for dinner and ended up at an Italian cafeteria filled
with Italians, which seemed like a good sign. It was a small place, with a few
tables and booths on one side, and a large counter that you could slide a tray
along while looking at the hot dishes on display. It was very crowded, but we
found seats at the counter on the side. 
I was not sure how it worked, and was a
little overwhelmed since I was not sure what some dishes were; there were lots
to choose from. I got a “mixed plate” with a variety of sautéed seafood, fried
potato wedges, and an order of carrots and green beans, an actual side dish of
VEGETABLES. 
The man behind the counter made up my plate and put it in the oven
to heat up. I was really excited until he took my plate, salted everything and
then proceeded to POUR oil over all of it. Please, enough with the olive oil!
Even with the oil, it was really good. 
After our meal,
we strolled over to the Rialto Bridge and watched the sunset. 
Since this would
be our last night in Venice, we decided to splurge---not that we hadn’t done so
already---and pay the cover fees to sit outside at one of the three restaurants
in St. Mark’s Square and enjoy an overpriced dessert or a cocktail and listen
to the live music. We figured if we sat there long enough it would make it
worth our while. Each restaurant has its own musical group, that would take
turns playing two or three songs while the group next door had a break. 
I
bought a 4.50 Euro scoop of sorbet, while Pat and Lou and Greg each got 12 Euro
mixed drinks. I think a big part of the price, other than the live music, was
the presentation. The waiter, right out of Hello
Dolly, delivered all of our order on a large square wooden tray with a
white liner, fancy napkin holder, glasses of water with a separate BOWL of ICE,
and little dishes of olives and chips. Later when everyone else got a second
round, I couldn’t bring myself to purchase a 9 Euro Coke Light and just had
some more water. 
It couldn’t have been a better evening. The weather was
perfect. The band played one of my favorite songs.
Pat and Lou were so swept up in the music that they danced.
Pat and Lou were so swept up in the music that they danced.
Later, Greg did a Phantom of the Opera impression when that song was played. It was
so special to share this magical place with my own husband, the same place my
parents had visited long ago.
Pat and Lou
decided to stay until the last song was played around 11:30 p.m. As Greg and I
walked back to the hotel, I realized that I was very quickly running out of
time to purchase the one last souvenir I HAD to have from Venice, another
drawing of the Venetian scenery to add to my collection. 
During my last
visit to Venice, 34 years ago, I tried to “purchase” an original charcoal
drawing from one of the vendors on the square. I picked out the one and only
drawing that I wanted and tried my luck bartering with the artist over the
price. It was going well, but I had some trouble with the exchange rate, which
at the time was 800 Lira to the dollar, making the amount he wanted, 3000 Lira
($3.75), seem really large. When I offered him 2000 Lira ($2.50), I was not
even aware of how much money that actually was. Next my friend who was with me
offered him 1500 Lira ($1.87), which caused the artist to be so insulted that
he ripped the drawing off the display, crumpled it up and threw it out into the
square, while screaming at us in Italian. Being 19 at the time, we chose to
move on. Later, I saw the drawing lying on the ground among the tourists and I
picked it up, smoothed it out, took it home and framed it. Some of the other
teenagers on my tour couldn’t believe that I didn’t go back and offer to pay
the artist. I don’t think he would have wanted to see me again.
I had passed some artists selling watercolors,
pastels, and some oils but no charcoal drawings. Also the artists were no
longer allowed to sell their wares in St. Mark’s Square. So I would have to
settle. Happily, there was still an artist selling watercolors at almost
midnight, and I purchased a lovely piece to bring home for 20 Euro, ($25).
Times change. After all this, I still had to pack. We were leaving for Florence
in the morning.
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