Venice’s St. Mark’s — A Treasure Chest of Wonders

It’s clear that as we, as a society, get vaccinated, we’ll soon be free to travel again in Europe — and it’s more exciting than ever to envision the great sights and slices of culture that await. For me, one of the great joys of travel is having in-person encounters with great art and architecture — which I’ve collected in a book called Europe’s Top 100 Masterpieces. Here’s one of my favorites:   

Stand in the center of St. Mark’s Square — the center of Venice — and take in the scene: the historic buildings, the cafés with their dueling orchestras, the sheer expanse of the square, and all the people — Italians on holiday, Indians in colorful saris, and Nebraskans in shorts and baseball caps. Overseeing it all is a church that’s unlike any other in the world — the Basilica of St. Mark. 

St. Mark’s is a treasure chest of wonders acquired during Venice’s glory days. The facade shows off the cosmopolitan nature of this sea-trading city that assimilated so many different cultures. There are Roman-style arches over the doors, Greek-style columns alongside, Byzantine mosaics, French Gothic pinnacles on the roofline, and — topping the church — the onion-shaped domes of the Islamic world. The gangly structure has been compared to “a warty bug taking a meditative walk” (Mark Twain) or “a love-cluster of tiara-topped ladybugs copulating” (unknown). 

One of the facade mosaics depicts the scene when the body of St. Mark — the author of one of the four gospels in the Bible — was interred on this spot. In 1063, this church was built over Mark’s bones. As Venice expanded, the church was encrusted with precious objects — columns, statues, and mosaics — looted from their vast empire. Their prize booty was four bronze horses, placed in the center of the facade. It’s little wonder that the architectural style of St. Mark’s has been called “Early Ransack.” 

When you step inside St. Mark’s Basilica, the entire atmosphere takes on a golden glow as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark. The church is decorated, top to bottom, with radiant mosaics. It’s as intricate as it is massive. (Imagine paving a football field with contact lenses.) They tell the entire story of Christ and the saints in pictures made from thousands of tiny cubes of glass (with gold baked inside) and colored stone. The reflecting gold mosaics help light this thick-walled, small-windowed, lantern-lit church, creating a luminosity that symbolizes the divine light of heaven. 

As you explore deeper, you’ll discover the church is filled with precious and centuries-old objects: jewel-encrusted chalices, silver reliquaries, and monstrous monstrances (for displaying the Communion wafer). An urn holds the (supposed) holy DNA of St. Mark. The priceless 1,000-year-old Golden Altarpiece is a towering wall of handcrafted enamels set in a gold frame and studded with 15 hefty rubies, 300 emeralds, and 1,500 pearls. Exotic objects like these date from an era when Venice was almost as oriental as it was European. 

The church’s symbolic message culminates at the very heart of the church. There, up in the central dome, Christ reigns in the starry heavens, riding on a rainbow. This isn’t the agonized, crucified Jesus featured in most churches, but a vibrant, radiant being gazing solemnly down, raising his hand in a blessing, as the Pantocrator, or Ruler of All. His grace radiates through a ring of saints to the altar below. As the central spot in the church, the Pantocrator dome is the symbolic center of the Venetian universe itself, with Christ blessing it all. God’s in his heaven, the faithful are on earth, Venice is central, and all’s right with the world. 

Standing under the dome of St. Mark’s, it becomes clear: Among Europe’s churches, there are bigger, more historic, and even holier churches. But none are more majestic than St. Mark’s Basilica. 

Shifting from Big to Small

Talk about whiplash. We just finished our Mediterranean cruise shoot, and we’re jumping immediately into filming our next special: “Rick Steves’ The Story of Fascism in Europe.” We’re traveling in Rome, Berlin, Nürnberg, and Munich as we film material for the special, which will air across the USA next September.

In a fascist regime, the individual is lost to the state, and the architecture is designed to make you feel small — as you can see at this stern edifice in EUR, the futuristic city Mussolini was developing next to Rome.

EUR fascist building

It’s been a big mind shift from filming on a cruise to filming about fascism. On the cruise, I was struck by the name of the attendant who took care of my stateroom, Adolfo — the only Adolf I can remember ever meeting. But while Adolfo (a wonderful man from Nicaragua) was all about making people feel big…the evil Adolf was all about making people feel small.

Rick and his stateroom attendant, Adolfo

Highlights from the Fabled Island of Malta

Malta has long been on my wish list, and I’m so thankful our cruise itinerary included the fabled island, standing like a fortified rock between Sicily and Africa.

With the help of the wonderful Malta guide Amy Pace (pacee@vol.net.mt), my TV crew and I blitzed the island and produced a great little video. In fact, it turned out to be too good to cut down and add to our Greek Isles episode, as I had originally expected to do. So, now I have a strong mini-show about Malta — and the challenge of finding a good way to share it.

Here’s the (still rough) script we ended up writing and covering (“OC” means I’m speaking on camera):

[1, Malta] We’re leaving the Ionian Sea and sailing past southern Italy and Sicily to our final stop: Malta.

[2] The captain advised being up early to enjoy the entry to the Grand Harbour of Malta — the historic heart of the island serving three cities, including the capital city of Valletta. Clearly, this port was well-worth some serious fortifications. We’ll have a busy day to explore it. Our ship just squeezes into its spot and, in moments, we’re in the old center of town.

[3, OC] Malta is a tiny independent county set midway between Sicily and Africa. With a culture enriched by a long parade of civilizations, it’s a strategically placed island nation with an extraordinary history.

[4] The grid plan of streets was laid out with the first fortress. After the Turkish threat passed, the city was ornamented with delightful architecture, including characteristic enclosed balconies (called “gallarija” here). Massive fortress walls incorporate existing limestone cliffs.

[5] Of the many cultures that shaped it, perhaps most obvious is the 150 years Malta was part of the British Empire. In World War II, it was a key Allied naval base and, as it suffered horrible bomb damage by German planes, much of it has been rebuilt in recent years. The mighty harbor survived and you can tour it in a little boat called a “dgħajsa” (a Maltese gondola). The navy is gone, replaced by tourism. Here, a cruise ship dwarfs my dgħajsa.

The city of Vittoriosa is just across the bay, or you can just hang out with the local gang, fishing. The Upper Barrakka Gardens offer commanding views.

[6] While it gained its independence in 1964, the island retains its British flavor: English-style pubs and food, statues of queens, and red phone booths. While the official language is a Semitic language called Maltese, English is virtually universally understood.

[7] Valletta’s stately Grandmaster’s Palace is a reminder that most of the stonework in this stony city dates to the era called the Knights’ Period — 1530 to 1798.

After being beaten by the Ottoman Turks in Rhodes, the Knights of Malta (also known as the Order of St. John) retreated here in 1530 and built a huge fortress in anticipation of a Turkish attack. And in 1565, the stout walls survived a siege of 40,000 Ottoman invaders.

[8] Like much of Valletta, St. John’s Cathedral dates from the Knights’ Period. While austere outside, it is fabulously Baroque inside. Inlaid marble slabs honor several hundred Knights of Malta — each listing that aristocratic knight’s accomplishments. The Order of St. John was represented by eight countries — and each had a chapel here at the Order’s high church.

[9] Paintings tell the story, illustrating how the Knights were “servant knights” whose mission was to care for pilgrims venturing to the Holy Land, how they evolved into a maritime power with a mighty navy, and how Christianity ultimately would triumph over the Muslims.

 

[10] A highlight is the largest canvas ever painted by Caravaggio, The Beheading of St. John the Baptist. He gifted the cathedral with this in 1608. You’ll notice his signature mastery of the play of light.

[11] The knights wore the iconic Maltese cross on their chest on a black robe — it represented the four cardinal virtues and its points the eight Beatitudes as well as the eight countries making up the multinational order.

 

[12] Within a short drive from the main city are plenty of Malta sights, from charming towns with oversized churches (towering over locals who seem oblivious to the crush of cruise tourists) to tiny and remote harbors and a dramatic and rugged coastline. Local boaters take tourists to numerous nooks and crannies…including blue, blue grottos.

[13] The land, which can seem timeless, is dotted with prehistoric ruins dating back 5,000 years. Megalithic sites like Ħaġar Qim are evidence that, in roughly 3000 BC, settlers from Sicily arrived in search of arable land. While the humble, mud-brick village that once surrounded this temple is long gone, stones from the temple still stand. Archaeologists believe this was a temple to a fertility goddess that functioned as a celestial calendar.

 

[14] Malta — with plenty of small family farms — has been terraced since ancient times. Rock walls defend against erosion: The thin layer of topsoil is exposed to the steady Mediterranean breeze. It feels burned off — locals are nostalgic about the days, just a few years ago, when it used to rain.

[15] The fisherman’s harbor of Marsaxlokk, a favorite with visitors, is home to a vast fleet of typically Maltese fishing boats. While Marsaxlokk has a fine main square and church, the action is along the harbor — especially on a Sunday, when it’s all about fish. Tradition says that the shape of the boats goes back eight centuries before Christ to when Malta was a Phoenician colony, and the colors indicate the fisherman’s home village. Marsaxlokk must be blue.

[OC] Thanks for joining us. I hope you enjoyed our look at fascinating Malta. I’m Rick Steves. Until next time, keep on travelin’!

Treasure Islands: Filming in the Mediterranean

My TV crew and I just spent two busy weeks on a Mediterranean cruise. While our primary goal was to shoot a one-hour documentary about how to cruise smartly, we also used our shore time to shoot a new episode about islands in the Mediterranean.

Our four days on Santorini, Mykonos, Rhodes, and Malta were filled with intensive filming. We were always among the first people off the ship and the last ones back on, 10 hours later. It is amazing how much you can accomplish during one day on shore (whether sightseeing or producing a TV show about that sightseeing) when you’re well organized.

I don’t know these islands very well (and I’d never even been to Malta) — so the filming experience was a bit different than usual. On each island, we would meet our local guide, show them my rough script, do a little scouting, consider the reality of our sail-away time, and then sit down and make a smart schedule to cover the sights. It was like a game: If we were smart, our guide was good, and the weather was clear, we could get what we needed. Fortunately, the weather was always good (they haven’t had rain since May) — and our guides were all excellent and excited about the project.

Reviewing footage on camera

A local guide would meet us at each port. They would bring their car literally onto the pier, in the shadow of our massive ship. (By the way, you can hire your own local guide with a private car for the cost of about four seats on one of the cruise line’s shore excursion bus tours).

Car pickup at cruise ship

At each port, we’d chart out our options, needs, OCs (the “on-camera” bits when I talk directly to the camera), and all the content I wanted to work into the script. With our time limits, this was an exhilarating challenge for me — kind of a speed-chess version of script writing.

Rick's notes on Santorini

My messy scribbling from Santorini.

 

We intended to make a show about all four of the islands we visited, but the shooting went so well — and there was so much we wanted to share — that I decided to feature just the three Aegean Islands (Santorini, Rhodes, and Mykonos) in this show and save Malta for a future project. (It’s always nice to have something new and exciting available for a TV pledge special.) This way, we can do each island justice while still sticking to our limit of 3,000 words for a half-hour script.

On each of the islands, we worked with a local guide who I really enjoyed. All of them make a living off cruise traffic and can be booked directly with ease: Nick Rhodes in Rhodes (request@rhodesprivatetours.com); Antonis Pothitos in Mykonos (info@delosguide.com); Dimitrios Nikolaidis in Santorini (info@oceanwavetours.com); and Amy Pace in Malta (pacee@vol.net.mt). Thanks Nick, Antonis, Dimitrios, and Amy for making us at feel home on each of your islands.

Guide Antonis Pothitos with Rick on Mykonos

Me and my Mykonos guide, Antonis Pothitos.

 

Working at a Floating Party

My TV crew and I just spent two weeks in the Mediterranean, filming a one-hour special about cruising that will air on public television in January 2019. It was strange to be working on the ship. At dinner, I would sit down with Simon and Karel (my producer and cameraman), and the servers didn’t quite know what to make of us. We attended most of the on-deck parties, but we were there with an agenda: Film the fun.

There were activities all day and all night. Most evenings, there was live music and dancing in the ship’s Grand Foyer, with its Vegas-style staircase and eight glassy elevators constantly zipping up and down. This was the center of the action on formal nights.

Dancing and live music on a cruise ship

At one particularly fun poolside event, a “silent disco,” everyone on the dance floor got wireless headphones which they could tune to music that fit their taste.

Silent disco

In order to film people up close (and respect their privacy), I had to meet them first and make friends. That was no problem on the ship — I had plenty of new friends to dance with.

Rick's disco friends