Traveller’s Tales part VIII

The first part can be found: HERE
The second part can be found: HERE
The third part can be found: HERE
The fourth part can be found: HERE
The fifth part can be found: HERE
The sixth part can be found: HERE
The seventh part can be found: HERE


Lily and I continued to make our way towards St Marks Square. The tourists were increasingly in evidence and yet it was still hardly 9am.


I was still coming to terms with the fact that Lily was insisting on the full tour even though she was all but blind. I was even more surprised when she insisted on joining the queue for St. Mark’s Basilica which was already about 150 yards long. All the while she insisted on a running commentary, which put my limited powers of observation and description under severe test. In particular I began to realise my architectural vocabulary and knowledge was extremely limited.


Nevertheless I stuck to it, while Lily interrupted from time to time to explain the history or the meaning of what we were looking at.


The queue for the Campanile di San Marco was even longer and I felt glad Lily was showing no interest in making the ascent to the top of the bell tower.

There seemed to be no shortage of Griffins embedded in the architectural designs. These according to Lily are well known for guarding treasure and priceless possessions. Griffins it seems not only mate for life, but also, if either partner dies, the other will continue throughout the rest of its life alone, never to search for a new mate, thus the Griffin has become an emblem of the Church's views on remarriage.


At the north side of the Piazza San Marco is St. Mark’s clock tower a fascinating early renaissance building which surmounts the entrance to the Merceria. Both the tower and the clock date from the 15th century. On top of the tower are two bronze figures, hinged at the waist, which strike the hours on a bell. One is old and the other young, to show the passing of time and, although said to represent shepherds they are always known as "the Moors" because of the dark patina acquired by the bronze.
Below is the winged lion of Venice the symbol of St. Mark with an open book. There was originally a statue of the Doge Agostino Barbarigo) kneeling before the lion, but in 1797, after the city had surrendered to Napoleon, this was removed by the French, who purged the city of all symbols of the old regime.

Below that are statues of the Virgin and Child seated, in gilt beaten copper. On either side are two large blue panels showing the time: the hour on the left in Roman numerals and the minutes (at 5 minute intervals) on the right in Arabic numerals. Twice a year, at Epiphany and on Ascension Day the three Magi, led by an angel with a trumpet, emerge from one of the doorways normally taken up by these numbers and pass in procession round the gallery, bowing to the Virgin and child, before disappearing through the other door.

Below this is the great clock face in blue and gold inside a fixed circle of marble engraved with the 24 hours of the day. A golden pointer with an image of the sun moves round this circle and indicates the hour of the day. Within the marble circle, beneath the sun pointer are the signs of the zodiac in gold, which revolve slightly more slowly than the pointer to show the position of the sun in the zodiac. In the middle of the clock face is the earth (in the centre) and the moon, which revolves to show its phases, surrounded by stars which are fixed in position.


As we got closer to the end of the queue I was dismayed to see a sign saying that no large bags were allowed inside the Basilica. I had a haversack containing two cameras, a flash and couple of lenses.

Luckily we had a small group of American men in front of us who were likewise adorned with small haversacks. I reasoned they would get ‘hit’ first and if I held my haversack under my arm and made it look like a large handbag I might get away with it.

As predicted the Americans were sent away after half an hour’s queuing; they for their part quite rightly weren’t best pleased and as they expressed their displeasure and their views on the parentage of all Italians I slipped through.

Once inside there was a sign, as there is in many heritage sites, saying there was a total ban on photography. There are two reasons for this. One, you have to buy official photographs at an exorbitant price and two it protects many of the fugitive colours against photo degradation caused by repeated exposure to flash. Once there was simply a ban on flash, but unfortunately with the advent of automatic compact cameras and mobile phones this became unenforceable. So many people were simply saying: they didn’t realise their flash would go off.

Usually with a clear conscience I see what I can get away with. I switch my flash off and set my camera to high ISO to deal with the lack of light in such places and have developed a technique of firing my camera from the hip. Not a totally satisfactory method but it does produce some passable results. As long as there is sufficient noise to mask the clatter of the shutter the method works very well.


We had to pay extra to get into the inner sanctum so this helped further assuage my conscience.


The highlight of the inner sanctum is the Pala d’Oro "Golden Pall" or "Golden Cloth") the high altar retable of the Basilica di San Marco which is universally recognized as one of the most refined and accomplished works of Byzantine craftsmanship. I’m sure that in Yorkshire we would have had it weighed in and melted down years ago.


Finally a front view of the apostles.


The place is certainly not short of gold, with the ceilings covered with vast amounts of gold leaf testimony to the once great wealth of Venice as a trading nation.


Some of the external elevations are equally sumptuous.


Much of St Mark’s Square is undergoing renovation at the moment, which of course is a wonderful opportunity to degrade the scene with advertising hoardings, even if they feature Marilyn Monroe look-a-likes.


St Marks Square is one of Venice’s big honey pots and is not the place to tarry for a cup of coffee. These days most visitors are aware of this and steer well clear of certain pavement cafes witnessed by the many empty seats.


Certainly you pay dearly for the pleasure of having your coffee to the accompaniment of music.


As far as I could ascertain it would have cost in the region of $75 for coffees for Lily and I. And that does not include the multitude of hidden costs that Venice is famous for, cover charge, service charge etc. I assume you would be looking at something like a $100 in total. It is one of the reason s why I dislike Venice. To me the whole city is one big commercial rip off, but more of that later.


Lily’s friends lived in San Palo the other side of the Rialto so we made our way slowly there using the side ally ways to avoid the main crush of tourists. Such a route also allows you to see more of the canals and gondoliers as they ply their trade.


For an extra $100 you can commission a gondolier who will sing O sole mio as you are taken on your very expensive tour of the waterways.


This particular American was so excited to see a blonde Yorkshire woman that he nearly tipped his gondolier over!


As usual the Japanese were much in evidence……….


… but for me one of the main reasons for taking the back ally ways was to enjoy the profusion of rich earth colours of the buildings…….. (to be contined)