Venice and Florence

This post was mostly written several days ago, but I only now have enough bandwidth to post it. Still haven't figured out how to add pictures.
   Our trip started with a family reunion in Charlottesville VA. Not of much interest to non-family members, so I'll just say that if I were planning it again, I'd simply drive from DC to Charlottesville and back, rather than adding a flying leg.  We rented a car anyway and the layover in DC was longer than the drive would have been.  The flight was uneventful, other than hearing a flight earlier than ours had to bump approximately 30% of its paid customers.  Glad we weren't going there.
   The reunion was fun, although I never did get many members of the younger generation straight.  The highlight, in some ways, was a private showing of Nathalie Dressed, David's cousin Cara's upscale consignment shop.  Check out Nathalie Undressed, the online version.  I actually found a pair of capris to take with and three jackets that Sarah volunteered to mail home for me.
    On Monday, we flew from Charlottesville to DC to Munich to Venice, where we met David's sister Dina waiting for us before customs.  Our bikes and other luggage arrived safely, and just outside customs, we found the faithful Matteo from the Italian Cycling Center ready and waiting to pick up our bikes and take them to wait for us there.  He seemed a bit surprised not to see two things he could identify as bicycles.  David's Friday is in a regular Samsonite suitcase.
    We bought a 3-day pass for the vaporetti that included the train from the Venice airport (on the mainland) into Venice.  Then we got on the bus for the wrong train station (Mestre, instead of Venice Santa Lucia).  Oops.  By now we REALLY tired and hot.  Fortunately there is a train for 1 Euro from one to the other that runs about every 10 minutes.  Soon we were back on track and only a short walk from out hotel, the same one we stayed at 3 years ago.  Throughout this long journey, David's 86-year-old mom cheerfully plugged along, although she was looking a bit frayed by the time we landed in our hotel room.
   The next morning, David and Dina walked to the Rialto bridge, while Ruth and I ran a few errands (including getting the train tickets for the next two legs) and then took the vaporetto.  We explored the Rialto a bit, found a nice place for what turned out to be really huge sandwiches, and then headed to San Marco.  This was the one thing I had reserved in advance, having at other times been completely discouraged by the lines around two sides of the building.  Our reservation was for a 10-minute window, for which we had to enter at the Saint Peter's gate.  It took some time to find, in part because there was standing water across most of the front of the cathedral, so you couldn't read the signs well.  Finally, I found a sign indicating I was there, but....that entry was closed because of the water.  So I followed the line around to the side and asked the guard, who didn't speak English and didn't really want to help.  Someone in line helpfully translated that our tickets were invalid because St. Peter's gate was closed!  This is what you get for 4 Euros!  We could go stand in the long line (and pay again), or just give up. We did the latter. Then we took the vaporetto to the Fondamenta Zattere to see a fabric-art and sculpture show we had seen a poster for in the arrivals area of the airport. The cute little woven-ribbon spider was not to be found (it's on the catalog cover, but not in the exhibition), but the rest of the Louise Bourgeois exhibit (fabric art that wasn't quite quilts, but nonetheless some of them quite amazing, plus some of her sculpture including an enormous, wonderful spider) was worth the walk. I wasn't so impressed with the companion exhibit of sculpture by Emilio Vedova.
   By the time we got back to the Rialto, the markets had closed (should have looked at them when we were there the first time), but we did check out a great cheese shop and had lunch.  
    The next morning we returned to the San Marco, hoping the lines would be shorter (they weren't), but the water had receded form St. Peter's gate, and the "prenotazione" were being honored again. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I asked the nice man guarding the gate if we could go in.  An Italian woman ahead of me had asked the same thing (I think) and been turned away, so I wasn't expecting much.  He was sympathetic and said I could come back later and ask the person who "owned" the service if we could go in, but when I pressed the point about having an 86-year-old with us (she and Dina were still making their way from the vaporetto), he relented.  He told us to meet him at the exit, and he let us in.  The floor is even more wonderful than I remembered.  It's just a giant quilt of fabulous marblework.  Okay, the rest of the cathedral is pretty amazing, too, although it's kind of over the top.  You have to pay additional to see various parts, which we skipped.  
  Then on to the Accademia and a whole lot more religious art.  The floor in the first room was also pretty special, and no postcards in the gift shop to remember them by (photography was forbidden).  Ruth OD'd pretty quickly on all that Christian art, so she and Dina went outside to sit down while David and I finished looking at saints.  A gruesome St. Bartholomew being flayed alive gave me flashbacks to the marvelously horrible statue in the Duomo Milano.
   A nap restored us all, including Ruth, who really was holding up as well as the rest of us, so we went for a tour of 3 of the 5 synagogues in the jewish quarter.  The most interesting part of the tour was hearing that the word "ghetto" comes from that spot, where the first designated spot for jews to live was the "new" foundary, or Ghetto Nuovo.  Not many years later, when the Levantine jews fled Spain via Constantinople (?), they took up residence in the adjoining square where the old foundary or Ghetto Vecchio had been. So the older habitation was the "new ghetto" and the newer one was the "old ghetto." Go figure.  Anyway, other cities heard about this nifty idea and started segregating jews, and the concept of a "ghetto" was born.
    After a quick shopping trip for some things we had our eyes on, we got a recommendation for a very good restaurant on the Fondamenta Misericordia -- Ristorante Diana (after the owner's daughter, not the deceased princess).  And reasonably priced, too.
   The next morning it finally rained (it was predicted for our whole stay in Venice, so we were very lucky). We continued to be lucky as it was only drizzling on the way to the train and from the train to our hotel in Florence.  A walk along the Arno (wow) and a visit to the Uffizi gallery (more saints!  but also Venice on the half shell by Boticelli -- now I know why her hair is blowing off to one side.  The part of the picture you don't see in all those parodies are the winds blowing her to the shores of Sicily (?), and the woman waiting on shore to give her something to drape herself in).  Some somewhat underwhelming Leonardos, and a very nice exhibit of 3 Caravaggios and a lot of paintings by "Caravaggisti" or people in the Caravaggio school of painting.  Very impressive.
   The day ended with a stroll to the Duomo and the Baptistry, neither of which we went inside.
   Saturday it rained all day, but we had a great day anyway. A visit to the Pitti Palace, which is about as over the top as it gets. Ceilings covered with frescoes, walls covered with paintings, opulent furniture, and so much of it all.  By the time we were done, we were beat, and starving. Walking back to the Arno, we stopped at the first non-tourist restaurant we found, and it was WONDERFUL. Next artisanal gelato around the corner at a place David's daughter Nina had recommended. And later, a fabulous dinner at Club Culinario Toscana da Osvaldo, recommended by my brother-in-law Mike. Fortunately, it was a ways from our jotel, so were able to walk some of it off before retiring.
  We've been in Rome for the last 3 days, but I'm getting sleepy, so I'll sign off for now. Sorry this got so long.