venerdì 29 dicembre 2017

The little blak smock in Venise . 1. Chapter. The first day of school.1a

Many people are there for work reasons and are in a hurry to move on.
Others are there for vacation.
Tourists are immediately noticed because they linger on the marble balustrades that delimit the ramps to see the boat traffic and the view.
"Attention to the legs" shout the boys who push the carts cluttered with goods for the market.
In that general confusion I shield myself from the presence of my mother that I use as a ram to cleave the crowd.
On one side of the canal, the sumptuous palaces that symbolize the richness of the Republic are inserted one after the other: on the right stands the Istrian stone cladding of the Palazzo dei Dieci Savi, followed by the Palazzo Papadopoli, with a shy tree it can be glimpsed despite the imposing construction, the Palazzo Bernardo, Palazzo Grimani, Palazzo Pisani and at the end Palazzo Balbi, which watches over the canal's canal; on the left the stern Palazzo Manin the most festive Palazzo Loredan and Palazzo Spinelli before the curved canal to the left one can see the Palazzi Mocenigo.
On the other side, the canal turns abruptly to the left, forcing the captains of the waterbuses and the boats to a careful maneuver and then continue straight.
On the right some hopeful tourist hopes to see again on the walls of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi the traces of the frescoes, now destroyed by the saltiness, of the young Giorgione; immediately afterwards Cà da Monster, Palazzo Michiel delle Colonne rise up and by making appropriate contortions some more attentive guests of the city can catch a glimpse of the incredible marble decorations of the Cà D'Oro.
On the left you can see the Palazzo dei Camerlenghi, then the Fondamenta della Pescheria runs straight down the Palazzo Corner della Regina and Palazzo Pesaro which can only be seen after descending from the last steps of the bridge.
The glories of the Republic of the Lion re-emerge from the obscurity of time whenever the memory of citizens or tourists who know that story awakens it.
The monuments bring to light the glories of these Venetians, prodigious protagonists of their time.
We get refreshed by the descent into Campo San Bortolomio and turn around the statue of Daniele Manin.
The father of the Venetian Republic had in vain attempted to resist the Austrians whom Napoleon had sold the Serenissima in the name of the principles of liberty, equality and fraternity.
"Look, there's money behind the Manin's back," says my mother smiling, pointing to the headquarters of the Cassa di Risparmio di Venezia.
We enter the Sotoportego de la Bissa.
It seems impossible to go from the light of the field to the darkness of the streets that cross the porch.
Venice is so unpredictable, secret, full of twists and turns, the ideal stage of the comedy of life that we all recite every day.
I would immediately stop in the rotisserie where a tantalizing scent of food comes from and where I can admire a captivating riot of colors that burst from the trays placed on the long counter: the white of creamed cod, the black of cuttlefish, the yellow of mozzarella cheese in carriages - just removed from the hot oil of frying - the brown orange of the lobsters, the dark gray of the crabs.
"May we eat a mozzarella cheese?" I ask myself beforehand because we never know that there are other programs.
"Yes, yes, but now we are late."
Arrived at the Ponte Storto back to see a slice of heaven because in Venice if you do not get out of the tangle of the Calli you can not look at the sky for its entirety.
We are already halfway "This bridge and that calle  is missing and after we arrived," confirms my mother.

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