During the past dozen years, our friend Dominic Arizona Bonuccelli (no relation to the suave gondolier in this picture) has traveled all around Europe, taking amazing pictures for us. On three of these trips, he’s been lucky to cross paths with Europe’s most treasured city: Venice. Sit back and enjoy the beauty, the mystery, and the seductive powers of the city they call la Serenissima…
Dominic Bonuccelli photo
If there is an iconic image of Venice, this is it. You want to be standing on this dock, breathing in the morning air, listening to the softly rocking, splashing sounds of these boats. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Smile, point and buy from real people. Rub elbows with the real Venice early in the morning. Get up and go picnic-wrangling at the Rialto market. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
There's a reason he's nervous. This sinister-looking "mail slot" is where upstanding Venetians could slip an unsigned note, informing the authorities of their neighbors' misdeeds. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Headdress for success. In centuries past, masks made the pre-Lent Carnevale a little more naughty here. All Venetians became temporarily anonymous, and equal. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Well-traveled, bronze and beautiful. Cast in bronze more than 2,000 years ago, these life-size horses were hauled away from Constantinople by Venetians during the crusades, then whisked off to Paris by Napoleon, returning to St. Mark's in 1815.(Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Casanova lived here. It explains a lot. The gondoliers of Venice understand romance from experience...each in his own unique way. Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Get plenty of vitamin G. Venice is best explored with long, meandering walks, and nothing refuels the body and spirit like cones of gelato.(Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
So it's pouring outside. Who cares? A rainbow over the Rialto is enough to make anyone forget about a few layers of damp clothes. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
One big hand deserves another. The Pensione Guerrato's hard-working duo of Roberto (above) and Piero (out on his boat) have welcomed Rick Steves' readers and tour members to Venice for nearly 20 years. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Built in Venice with pride. Six coats of lacquer give gondolas a glasslike finish, reflecting well on the city. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Some enchanted evening. An evening gondola glide through the canals is a must-do in Venice. It just about defines romantic, and you see details of the city that mere pedestrians miss. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Then the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie. Gondoliers gather their boats around another equipped with a singer. That's amore. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
So it's flooding. Who cares? The arrival of aqua alta (high water) steadily nudges the audience away from the orchestra, and creates an array of reflections on St. Mark's Square. (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Midnight mischief. Our photographer tries to sneak a peek at the Rialto, and is captured by his own camera. Somebody must have slipped a note... (Dominic Bonuccelli photo)
Comments
6 Replies to “Venice: Seduced by la Serenissima”
My first glimpse of Venice, an evening in October 1980 – arriving by train, walking down the broad steps to the water under what may have been moonlight (I was so dazzled I can’t remember the details). Hawkers approached offering rooms, and we followed one of them to an ancient apartment building. Everytime we entered or exited there was a flood of abuse emanating from a higher floor because we invariably let the door slam, shattering the calm. No flooding, but we sat out on St. Marks having coffee or drinks, watching pigeons swarming and robe-clad Franciscans traversing the square. Haven’t been back.
I remember traveling through Venice during my college backpacking days in Europe during the ’80s. After disembarking from the train early in the morning, I found a hostel for the next night, and then I just started walking. No maps, no travel books, just started walking amongst the mazelike narrow streets, not a care that I might not find my way back. How I wish I could re-live such carefree days again! While sometimes my memory of events just five years ago seems hazy, to this day I remember all the most minute details of my travels there. I remember the little crustless ham sandwich I ate in Venice at one of those corner open door bars. I remember buying the porcelain Carnivale mask which now adorns my teenage daughter’s room. I remember eating the most juiciest, perfect peach I ever had in my whole life when I was in Italy. When I recounted my peach story to a co-worker a couple of years ago, right before I was planning on taking my family to Italy for the first time, he gave some sage advice. He said not to eat any peaches when I go there. I listened to his advice because if I did eat a peach now it would have just ruined a beautiful memory I have held for almost 30 years. While I have many greate memories of Europe, I must say the ones I cherish the most are the ones from Italy. That magical country just stands apart from all the rest.
Italy, at least mid and southern Italy, does have a quality all of its own. I don’t know that I’d call it joy of life but in some (not all) areas it does have exceptionally caring, friendly people. I wouldn’t put venice in that category but tourism can turn natives, let alone tourists, into stressed out people. It seems to me that rural and semi rural areas of any country including the U.S. are the salt of the earth. The rest are too busy selling.
Great to see people enjoying their vacation!
I have learnt there is a specific way Americans see Italy and Italians: you are able to select a particular mood or atmosphere or even a color or a sound, isolate and emphasize it, making it very special. It is the case of the stunning Photos here. As an Italian I wonder if you don’t see the rest (not as beautiful) or gracely don’t want to see it…
I meant to mention, I cannot believe how much that first picture looks like Dean Martin.
My first glimpse of Venice, an evening in October 1980 – arriving by train, walking down the broad steps to the water under what may have been moonlight (I was so dazzled I can’t remember the details). Hawkers approached offering rooms, and we followed one of them to an ancient apartment building. Everytime we entered or exited there was a flood of abuse emanating from a higher floor because we invariably let the door slam, shattering the calm. No flooding, but we sat out on St. Marks having coffee or drinks, watching pigeons swarming and robe-clad Franciscans traversing the square. Haven’t been back.
I remember traveling through Venice during my college backpacking days in Europe during the ’80s. After disembarking from the train early in the morning, I found a hostel for the next night, and then I just started walking. No maps, no travel books, just started walking amongst the mazelike narrow streets, not a care that I might not find my way back. How I wish I could re-live such carefree days again! While sometimes my memory of events just five years ago seems hazy, to this day I remember all the most minute details of my travels there. I remember the little crustless ham sandwich I ate in Venice at one of those corner open door bars. I remember buying the porcelain Carnivale mask which now adorns my teenage daughter’s room. I remember eating the most juiciest, perfect peach I ever had in my whole life when I was in Italy. When I recounted my peach story to a co-worker a couple of years ago, right before I was planning on taking my family to Italy for the first time, he gave some sage advice. He said not to eat any peaches when I go there. I listened to his advice because if I did eat a peach now it would have just ruined a beautiful memory I have held for almost 30 years. While I have many greate memories of Europe, I must say the ones I cherish the most are the ones from Italy. That magical country just stands apart from all the rest.
Italy, at least mid and southern Italy, does have a quality all of its own. I don’t know that I’d call it joy of life but in some (not all) areas it does have exceptionally caring, friendly people. I wouldn’t put venice in that category but tourism can turn natives, let alone tourists, into stressed out people. It seems to me that rural and semi rural areas of any country including the U.S. are the salt of the earth. The rest are too busy selling.
Great to see people enjoying their vacation!
I have learnt there is a specific way Americans see Italy and Italians: you are able to select a particular mood or atmosphere or even a color or a sound, isolate and emphasize it, making it very special. It is the case of the stunning Photos here. As an Italian I wonder if you don’t see the rest (not as beautiful) or gracely don’t want to see it…
I meant to mention, I cannot believe how much that first picture looks like Dean Martin.