The rains finally moved in on our last day in Venice. This gave us a chance to do some indoor exploring with a visit to the Palazzo Ducale and the recently opened Biennale Architettura – taking place across the city but with permanent headquarters at the Arsenale complex. The exhibition’s tagline for this still unusual moment in history was ‘How will we live together?’
I’ve long dreamed of being in Venice for the Biennale events and the timing during our visit was complete happenstance. It took a while to find the main entrance and then even longer to ‘safely’ buy our own tickets online, but once inside, we were inspired, impressed and occasionally, as with all great art, perplexed.
The themes of ecology, togetherness and inequality seemed to infuse almost all the installations. The pandemic clearly pushed the intensity of these contemporary concerns even more to the forefront and led to engaging, challenging and hopeful visual statements.
We putted around as Aleksander napped and discussed the subjects presented, realizing that we really should have carved out some more time for this event. Eventually he woke up and we double-stepped to the exits as the daily opening hours were winding down. We hustled home as the rain clouds darkened overhead, all the architectural insights almost as top of mind.
It would be great to get back to Venice over the rest of our time here in Italy and even greater if it coincided with more Biennale exhibitions. Either way, it’s nice to see large global events that have become marginalized or cancelled returning to some semblance of normal. I suppose, in answer to the Biennale’s theme, we just all want to live together ‘normally’ again.
Since we had four full days in Venice, we decided to spend one of them on a nearby island. Researching travel plans has become a much more difficult task with an infant but my wife came across some positive reviews of the island of Burano, a 45 minute ferry ride from Venice, and so off we went for maybe the most colourful afternoon of our lives.
I can’t tell you many clever things about Burano or even the reason for the colourful homes but usually that has to do with sailors being able to identify their location in poor conditions. Either way, the colours of Burano have been saturated for the Instagram generation and the hundreds of colourful home-fronts did not disappoint.
We strolled, ate more wonderful seafood and, of course, took loads of pictures. We got a taste of the returning tourist crowds on our way home, waiting in line for an hour for the ferry home. But the stroller came in handy and we were plucked out of line and got to board first. Aleksander was a champion as always, letting us enjoy the day while he mostly snoozed.
If you find yourself in Venice with some spare time, hop on a ferry to Burano and enjoy this jewel of a find.
The first springtime long weekend in Canada is an almost mythic ritual where one heads out of the city, pretends it’s warmer than it is and looks forward to the approaching summer months. In honour of that tradition, we Italianized our plan and headed to Venice for four late May nights.
Dalia and I honeymooned in Italy for one full month in September, 2017, but mostly due to routing challenges, never made it to Venice. Now, as travel slowly re-opens in Europe, it was a perfect time to visit the famous city before the tourist throngs return.
I’ve often pondered where the magic of childhood disappears to once we become adults. It gets harder and harder to be astonished, enchanted and surprised. But I can now conclude that one place where magic continues to abide is in Venice. What an incredible, unique, unlikely and charming city. Seeing it for the first time really makes the heart marvel. And seeing it for the first time towards the end of the pandemic only reignites the desire to discover and explore that much more.
We ate, we wandered, we floated around for three days, wondering if it would even be worth returning once the streets, alleyways and canals are overcrowded again. For now, there was no dampening our spirits (even if the last day was rainy from start to finish) and we enjoyed the beauty and opportunity both under our feet and gondolas.
Is this a dream?! Fairytale Venice.
The challenges of travelling with an infant were on fully display in Venice also. We wanted to practice taking Aleksander on another trip and the train, plane and boats to get to and around Venice provided a great opportunity. Daddy was kept busy hauling the stroller over a selection of Venice’s 300 bridges but otherwise we powered through and made the most of a visit that would have looked quite different in our pre-parent days. I’d advise not to be discouraged and adapt as needed to see this world class city, with family in tow.
After a month of weekends spent in Rome, visiting and revisiting many of the city’s best known historical sites, we decided it was time to leave these beautiful urban confines. It hasn’t been an entirely easy transition to European life with a stroller. The ancients weren’t necessarily thinking about baby problems when they designed and laid out their streets. So one of our biggest concerns about leaving our home area, even for a few hours, is how to manage with a six month old. We ultimately decided to test out leaving the stroller behind, only bringing a carrier and hoping Aleksander’s head doesn’t bobble too much napping for a few hours strapped to our chests.
The destination we decided on was the seaside town of Ostia. Ostia is well-known amongst Romans as a quick and easy summer escape from the concrete, heat and crowds of peak tourist season in the Eternal City. It’s a very convenient 20-minute city train ride from Rome and the train was busy with beach seekers, young and old, keen to return to a normal post-pandemic summer life.
Since one of my main life goals while living in Rome is to be a member of a beach club, I was thrilled to see the sand and lapping waves of the Mediterranean. The hot sun was buffered by a cool seaside breeze and we kept ourselves and Aleksander hydrated at every step. We took pictures on the Ostia pier, sat down for a wonderful seafood lunch, grabbed a gelato (of course), walked the boardwalk (assessing beach clubs) and even dipped Aleksander’s toes in the water.
Dalia is essentially a mermaid who loves the water so we’re thrilled to have a beach within such a short distance from our home. We look forward to further exploring Ostia in future, as well as working through all the ‘beaches to visit’ lists we can find.
Dad in the world will hopefully soon become dad on the beach!
This weekend, we’ve officially been Roman residents for one month. It’s been an enjoyable but intense first four weeks in the Eternal City and since I’ve always believed that initial impressions capture something magical and crystalline, I thought I’d jot some down here.
The first thing to note is, at the beginning of the end of the covid pandemic, Rome belongs entirely to the Romans. All the world class sites, postcard views and historical remnants are currently just the backdrop for everyday life; and not the draw of bus, plane and train loads of international tourists. This has worked out quite well for us. We take Friday strolls to the Colosseum, walk into St. Peter’s with no lineup and manage to take pictures at the Trevi Fountain with not a single unknown stranger in the frame. It feels like you’re the first one in a nightclub and you know eventually you won’t be able to move, but now the place is yours.
The weather has been cooler and wetter than we expected. Dalia and I both visited Rome in April some years ago and remember a sweltering and manic city, with heat radiating from the concrete with barely anywhere to hide. Thankfully, we now have a comfortable apartment to retreat to and more time to discover and linger in spots we enjoy, like the Villa Borghese park, our nearest and favourite big city green space.
The Romans have been very kind, energetic, welcoming, sincere, sometimes outlandish, most times impeccably mannered, elegant and straightforward. They ooze Italianness in a way that I don’t think I can describe any more precisely than that. Most people look good, their clothes seem to fit them all very well. They wear on average two more layers than a Canadian who’s just arrived but that’s ok. They love their families and take all the generations to the park on weekends. They talk to their dogs very seriously, which is particularly entertaining to someone who, like the dog, doesn’t understand the language. They’re emphatic when they talk on their phones – with no one, or everyone, around. When they’re with each other, they’re not on their phones. This is almost as astonishing as an empty Rome to a North American. We still stand out because we use our phones almost all the time for directions, pictures and translations. Eating in Rome is a rhythym we still haven’t figured out. Lunch is a hard stop by 3pm and dinner starts at 7, 730, earliest. So ya, no pizza or pasta when the belly is empty after work around 5 or 6. More coffee and gelato have become the caloric stand-ins of choice.
We’ve also had our fair share of linguistic challenges thus far. One of the main drawbacks of there being no tourists arounds is that no one expects you to be a tourist. In the best cases, we stare back blankly when locals machine-gun respond to us in Italian, somewhat like untrained monkeys. In the worst cases, we exit to hyperventilate and make a mental note to never return to the establishment where our entire family legacy has just been tarnished. It’s a bit of an exaggeration but also, in a very real sense, our biggest challenge, maybe one of the only challenges, until now. There’s something almost indescribably frustrating and embarrassing about not being able to understand the simplest things in a new language. No matter how many degrees you have or how solid your CV is, not being to understand a cashier ask you if you want a bag or teenagers ask if you want whipped cream on your three gelato scoops, makes you feel so humbled that you almost disappear.
Finding time and energy for language study, or any other ‘nice to have’ has been very hard to come by in our first month. With a new job in a new country with new colleagues; a gorgeously demanding six month old; and the myriad of things one needs to do to set up life: internet, groceries, SIM cards, pediatricians, ironing, there’s not much juice left for other concerns. Dalia tries (and mostly succeeds) to squeeze in a workout during Aleksander’s morning nap and I’ve averaged one workout so far every two weeks (far from a blazing start!). We haven’t eaten out because of covid, we haven’t travelled because we don’t quite know where to begin, and we haven’t shopped much because it just hasn’t really made much sense yet. We did buy an espresso machine and are perfecting our morning cappuccinos. We’ve tried almost every gelato shop in our neighbourhood and manage about 3 – 5 cones per week. And we’ve narrowed down some solid pizza options and toppings for any given moment.
All in all, our first month has been great. We feel incredibly lucky for an opportunity like this at a time like this. We look forward to the eventual visits of friends and family; to Aleksander’s first steps in the streets of Rome; and to the ability to share our thanks and gratefulness with Rome and the Romans in their mother tongue, without embarrassing either side.
Dad In The World 