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Posts tagged “day out by air

Just back from: a day trip to Venice

Regular readers of this blog will know how I’ve made a number of day trips by air to some of Europe’s most captivating cities.  Yesterday saw me jet off to Venice, in perhaps my most ambitious trip yet.

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You’ll find a full list of the others on my Index page here:

https://juliamhammond.wordpress.com/index/

While I’m not suggesting for a minute you’re going to truly get under the skin of your chosen destination in such a short space of time, it is great when you have little or no holiday left but still have that pressing need to travel.  Or in my case, a desire to keep two dogs out of kennels and into Daddy Day Care which is always a priority.  If you believe those predicting Brexit will put an end to cheap European flights from the UK, time could be running out to snap up a bargain.  Here’s the how, where, when and what of Venice in a day.

Getting there

My local airport is Stansted, the main UK base of Ryanair, and once again it was to the controversial budget carrier that I looked for my cheap fare.  Normally, Ryanair flies in to Treviso airport, but while the airport has been closed for essential runway maintenance, flights are being rerouted to Marco Polo instead.  Marco Polo also has the advantage of being closer to the city and well connected by both boat and bus.  The current closure lasts until 18 October, but it’s worth keeping an eye out as it’s not the first time I’ve read flights have been diverted.  My flight departed on time from Stansted at 0620 and touched down ten minutes ahead of schedule at 0910.  The return left a few minutes after its scheduled departure time of 2230 and taxied to the terminal to unload us at 2355, about 15 minutes late.  Total ticket cost this time was £34 return.  I should also add, as per usual I didn’t bother with a seat reservation and got a randomly allocated window seat on the outbound flight and an aisle on the return leg.

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To reach Venice from Marco Polo it’s possible to catch a bus.  An express service takes around 20 minutes to make the journey to Piazzale Roma, near the top end of the Grand Canal and the city’s Santa Lucia station.  Return tickets cost 15 euros.  But to arrive in style, I figured I needed to arrive by boat, though my budget most certainly doesn’t stretch to water taxis.  There are, however, direct transfers from the airport with Alilaguna who offer a reliable service on one of three routes.  This is double the price of the bus at 30 euros for a return, but in my mind well worth the cost.  However, I should mention you do sit low in the boat, which isn’t great for sightseeing if you aren’t tall.

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I opted for the orange route as it takes you via Cannaregio and then down the Grand Canal.  Journey time to the Rialto Bridge was just under an hour.  From there, the boat continues down to Santa Maria del Giglio, just short of St Mark’s.  It was busy, and I had to wait for one boat to leave before getting on the second one, which added about a 30 minute delay to my journey.  However, the boats serving the blue route were bigger and there wasn’t a wait.  They loop via Murano and Giudecca instead, and calling at San Marco on the way.  This is a really convenient option if seeing Murano’s famous glass is on your wishlist.  However, it does take about 90 minutes to get to San Marco and it doesn’t transit the Grand Canal.  The way I see it is that this transfer is part of your day out rather than just transport, but if time is the priority then the bus is a no-brainer.

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Note: From Treviso, an airport bus scheduled to coincide with arrivals takes around 70 minutes to reach Piazzale Roma.  Make sure that you’re on the ATVO bus and not the Barzi bus as the latter calls at Mestre station rather than Santa Lucia (requiring a second train journey to get to the city) and also Tronchetto Island which is again inconvenient for Venice’s top attractions.

The links you’ll need (including timetables, fares and maps):

ACTV bus and city boats: http://actv.avmspa.it/en

Ailaguna boat: http://www.alilaguna.it/en

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Getting around

Venice is time-consuming to get around, which is why I refer to this as my most ambitious day trip to date.  Because of the lack of roads, you either have to walk or take to the city’s canals.  It’s a pleasure to wander on foot, but the downside is that many alleyways are dead ends leading to canals or courtyards.  Without a good map (or even with one) you’re likely to get lost.  I relied on a combination of paper map, Google map navigation on my phone and a general sense of direction.

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Those of you who know me will realise the latter is pretty much non-existent.  Narrow streets and a maze of densely packed buildings mean that sometimes Google maps don’t quite have your location right.  I also struggled with night mode, as the canals and alleys have almost no contrast – the waterways are such an essential aid to navigation that I switched it back to day mode.  Fortunately even with very limited Italian, people were helpful to my pitiful “Scusi, dove Rialto Bridge?” attempts at conversation and pointed me in the right direction with a smile.

There has been a lot in the press about how residents are fed up with the city being overrun by tourists; the historic centre’s residential population numbers only 55,000 now, compared to an estimated 28 million visitors annually.  Do the maths: that’s more tourists per day than the number who actually live there.  Whether it was because I visited in the quieter shoulder season or whether such irritation has been exaggerated in the press, I didn’t see any indication of  frustration with tourists invading locals’ space.  But it’s certainly not an issue to brush under the carpet.

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Due to the unhappy marriage of being time-poor and totally incompetent at map reading, I decided to splurge on a day pass for the city’s ACTV boats.  This cost 20 euros and can be purchased at the many ticket booths near the jetties.  (The jetties themselves are easy to spot being a) near the bigger canals and b) on account of their bright yellow livery as in the photo below.)  You do have to validate the pass before you step onto a floating jetty, or risk a hefty fine.  Look for a white oval terminal as you step off dry land and tap the card against it.  I got my money’s worth hopping on and off, but you’ll need to make several journeys to cover your outlay.

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Things to do

With so many sights to choose from, whittling down what’s easily a month’s worth of sightseeing into the nine hours I had in central Venice was tricky to say the least.  It helped that this was my third trip to Venice, so I’d already seen the main attractions and (fortunately for me) years ago, well before selfie sticks had been invented.  I was also keen to test out the new policy of the Venice authorities which is to encourage people to explore off the beaten track.  You’ll find a wide choice of suggestions here (when they first pop up, you might think they’re written only in Italian but they’re actually dual language with English too):

http://www.veneziaunica.it/en/content/itineraries

I began my day by alighting at the Rialto Bridge boat jetty and crossing the bridge itself to the adjacent market.  Originally the market moved to this location in 1097, but a 16th century fire destroyed almost everything in the vicinity.  The market was rebuilt and depsite being a stone’s throw from the tourist crap which lines the bridge and its environs, manages to retain more than a little of its charm.  There’s plenty to see, including more varieties of mushrooms than you could ever expect to see back home, capsicums done up like posies of flowers plus of course a pungent but vibrant fish market.

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There’s a treat tucked around the back of the market in a hard to find alley (even with the address, Sestiere San Polo 429, it was concealed so well it took me a while to find either of its two doors) What I’m referring to is Cantina do Mori, the bacaro which claims to be the oldest in Venice.  This tiny bar whose ceiling is hung with dozens of copper pots still retains a customer base who are happy to share their local with tourists like me.  It’s been around since 1462 and once counted the infamous lothario Casanova among its clientele.  Today, it’s still a popular place to go and have an ombra (Venetian slang for glass of wine) and soak up the alcohol with some cicheti (or in English, cicchetti), the Venetian equivalent to Spanish tapas.

Eventually, I prised myself away from the bar and its surroundings.  I decided first to take a stroll in search of Venice’s narrowest street.  Calle Varisco is just 53cm at the little end, though mercifully for pedestrian flow, it widens as you walk down.  If I’m honest, I was a little underwhelmed; several properties off the street were having work done and there was a fair bit of rubbish around as a result.  Forget what you’ve read: it’s not the narrowest street in the world (that’s a German one) and it’s not even close to being the slimmest in Italy.

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Moving on, I headed north and picked up a boat which looped around the Castello district to bring me to the San Zaccaria stop.  I was hoping to see if the church’s flooded crypt was underwater, but it closes from 12 noon until 4pm each afternoon so was out of luck.  Nearby though, I passed Banco-Lotto No. 10 which sells clothing made by inmates at the women’s penitentiary on Giudecca Island.  Sadly, that too was closed, though it shouldn’t have been according to the sign on its doorway.  The clothes looked fabulous, even for someone with my limited fashionista skills.

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Next up was a bookstore, and one which proves that Amazon can’t provide everything.  The Libreria Alta Acqua is a treasure.  Books stacked in precarious piles fill every inch of available space.  Balanced on shelves, filling redundant gondolas and bath tubs, they represent what a bookstore should be.

This is a place to be savoured, to potter and to forget the time or anything else on your mind.  The store owner wandered about, leaving the rather scary looking cat to mind the till while he wheezed and tutted to himself looking for items unspecified but clearly important.  I think I could have watched him all day too.  Out back was the tinest of courtyards with a sign imploring people to climb up some wobbly stairs made of old books to see the view over the canal.

I couldn’t resist walking south via St Mark’s Square.  This might sound odd as I really hate the crowds and the tourist paraphernalia but I think I wanted to see just how bad it was.  On the way, in Calle del Mondo Novo, my nose caught the aroma of a cheese and ham store as my eye was drawn to a pig in the pizza shop window opposite.  Incidentally, I read that you should never eat pizza in Venice as wood-fired ovens are banned with just a tiny handful of exceptions.  The store, Prosciutto e Parmigiano, is known locally as Latteria Senigaglia (that was the name of the original family-run dairy produce store which was set up in 1940).

In St Mark’s Square, I navigated a sea of people who couldn’t have been more synchronised in pointing their mobile phones towards whatever their guide was pointing out had a musical soundtrack been in place.  Pausing only to recreate the famous shot of the gondolas lined up facing out across the lagoon, I hopped on another vaporetto.  This one was bound for the church of San Giorgio Maggiore.  From the top of its belltower, or campanile as they’re called, the views across the city are splendid and of course you look out over the campanile in St Mark’s Square rather than from it.  It costs 6 euros to ascend, but for that they provide a lift, and free entertainment when the bells chime the hour, frightening unsuspecting visitors.  Best of all – no queues.

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It was mid-afternoon and I wanted to explore a little more before I left, so I took a boat a short way up Canale della Giudecca, jumping off at Spirito Santo church to cut back through to the Grand Canal near the Peggy Guggenheim art collection.  Another vaporetto took me to Venice Casino from where I could cut through to the district of Cannaregio.  This is on the Venice authorities’ recommendations list and is where you’ll find the Jewish Ghetto.  It lacked the crowds of St Mark’s and it’s probably very uncharitable of me to hope that the city’s campaign is unsuccessful and it stays that way.

I had planned to have an early dinner in Osteria al Bacco, which is one of the area’s most highly rated restaurants, but got sidetracked by the wonderful Al Timon instead.  You do need to book ahead for dinner reservations, though they don’t always serve what they display in the window.  Get there right on the dot of six when they open to grab a table for cicheti and a Spritz – for something classically Venetian, swap the fashionable Aperol for Campari.

Time was ticking on so I took a last vaporetto ride along the Grand Canal and then bought a ticket for the boat back to the airport.  I’d definitely recommend a visit outside of summer and most importantly, away from the crowd.  Venice is never going to be one of my favourite cities, but it’s growing on me.

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Just back from: a day in Ibiza

This, perhaps, wasn’t going to be one of my usual days out. A few days before I was due to fly – out of Stansted at 7am on a Tuesday – an email arrived from Ryanair announcing certain restrictions on the flight.

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Amongst other words of caution, it said:

• Customers will not be allowed to carry alcohol on board and all cabin baggage will be searched at the boarding gates.
• Boarding gates will be carefully monitored and customers showing any signs of anti-social behavior or attempting to conceal alcohol will be denied travel without refund or compensation.

For a moment I wondered what I had let myself in for. In the event, though we did have a stag party on board, they were very well behaved and remarkably quiet. The plane was too, empty seats an indication that some of our passengers had fallen victim to one of Stansted’s worst mornings for queues at security I’d ever seen. I’d made the flight in good time and jetted off on time to the hippy isle with a row of three seats to myself.

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Arriving slightly ahead of schedule, I picked up a hire car and set off on an itinerary I’d found on the Ibiza Spotlight website. As my main focus of the day was to be a trial of a Sunwise kaftan, I’d originally planned to hole up at one of Ibiza’s stylish beach clubs and chill out all day. In the event, my geographer’s curiosity got in the way and I just couldn’t resist the chance to go exploring, especially up in the north of the island where the agricultural landscape was more verdant and prettier than the south. That said, I needed to be in the sun, so there were going to be plenty of stops.

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The first was supposed to be in Santa Eulària des Riu, Ibiza’s third largest resort. Incidentally, road signs are in Catalan, though my map was in Spanish, with this particular resort being Santa Eulalia – mostly the names were similar enough for this not to be confusing. I’d read about an excellent ice cream parlour called Mirreti’s. Reaching the town, I decided it just wasn’t my kind of place: too busy and lacking charm. I drove straight through, headed for Sant Carles de Peralta.

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This small village, dominated by a delightful whitewashed church, was the perfect spot for a stroll in the sunshine. There wasn’t much to see, but I’d been tipped off about a cafe called Bar Anita across the road. I spent a pleasant half an hour sipping a cold drink in the warm sunshine, watching the world go by.

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Onwards and northwards, as the hire car wound its way around the back lanes following the Cala de Sant Vicenç coast road for a few kilometres before ducking inland across the Serra de la Mala Costa. Turning north at Sant Joan de Labritja, I snaked across country on a tiny lane which led to the resort of Portinatx on the island’s rugged north coast. Smaller than Santa Eulària des Riu but nevertheless a resort, it was more my scene and I had a wander to explore.

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Back in the car, I drove back to Sant Joan, this time via the main road and on to my next stop, another village dominated by a magnificent church, Sant Miquel de Balansat. Sited on top of the hill, this whitewashed church is impossible to miss. It’s the second oldest on the island, after the cathedral and like the one in Sant Carles, had three crosses on the front wall, something you’ll see on all the churches on the island, the symbol of Golgotha. The painted chapel walls are very special.  This bronze sculpture outside also caught my eye.

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But by now, I was getting hungry and so drove the few kilometres to Santa Gertrudis de Fruitera. This was my favourite of all the villages I stopped at, and I feasted on jamon serrano and queso manchego in the sunshine, choosing a spot opposite the church.

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Somehow the village managed to hang onto its character despite its popularity with day trippers. I had time to browse in a few boutiques before they closed for a siesta and I hit the road again.

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This part of Ibiza is greener than the scrubby south and I drove across the countryside towards Santa Agnès de Corona, known as Santa Ines in Spanish. I passed olive groves, almond trees and orange trees laden with fruit. Ruined windmills completed the agricultural scene.

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The road layout here forms a circle, so it as it was such a fine day, I decided to backtrack a bit and go for a short hike. My target was the hidden fishermen’s cove of Es Portitxol, said to be one of the prettiest spots on the island.

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The road was in pretty poor shape, so I parked up and picked my way down the lane on foot. When I saw poor shape, it looked like a digger had gone rogue and there were great rifts gouged out of the stones. I wished at that point I’d had on walking boots rather than sandals, as it was hard going. The path did level out for a while and led through a shady forest; alongside were sweeping views over the ocean and towards the cove. Improperly clad, I decided to bail before I ripped my sandal straps, but had I continued, I’d have been rewarded with one of Ibiza’s hidden gems. Ah, next time.

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It was time to head into Eivissa, the island’s capital. I’d seen the cathedral and fortifications of its Dalt Vila or old town as I’d passed earlier, and now it was time to explore on foot. Luck was on my side when it came to finding a parking space; yellow spaces reserved for workers become free for anyone who finds them empty after 4pm.

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For anyone whose experience of Ibiza is solely the lively mass tourism resorts and club scene, Dalt Vila is the very antithesis: elegant, ancient and impressive. The thick wall and fortifications once protected Eivissa from marauding pirates; now they provide lofty vantage points from which you can admire the Mediterranean and watch the fishing boats bring their catch in, trailing clouds of seagulls in their wake. This defensive settlement dates from the 7th century BC when the Phoenicians founded the city, though the walls themselves are even older.

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Today, Dalt Vila is threaded with alleyways and tunnels which, unsigned, invite you to partake of a lucky dip; when you step through the doorway, you might have no idea where you’ll emerge. I popped up in the Plaça d’Espanya for a time. One of the tunnels here was a Civil War refuge; Ibiza was Republican for a time before Franco stepped up his campaign and occupied the island, forcing the Republicans to flee.

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In the Plaça d’Espanya traders were setting up a mediaeval fayre which should, according to the road signs, have opened three hours earlier but looked like it was still a while off. From there, I climbed a little further to the cathedral, its fussy architectural details contrasting with the simplicity of the whitewashed churches I’d seen in the villages.

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Overlooking the marina, it was a good place to perch on a wall and soak up both the sun and the view. Refreshed, I wandered the streets of the old town for a while before ducking randomly into a tunnel and emerging some considerable way beneath them. I took it as a sign and headed back to the airport.

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The details

Outbound: Ryanair STN to IBZ departing 0700 with a scheduled arrival time of 1040 (we were about 20 minutes early)
Inbound: Ryanair IBZ to STN departing 2140 and arriving at 2320 (also early)

Flights available from £19.99 each way.
Car hire with Alamo purchased through the Ryanair website was a little over £30 for the day; airport buses into Eivissa cost 3,50 euros each way.

Have you seen my other blogs on days out by plane? They’re perfect if you are desperate to travel but can’t get the time off you need for a longer trip. You’ll be surprised at how much you can do in a single day. For how to visit Amsterdam, Belfast, Bremen, Budapest, Lisbon, Regensburg and Copenhagen for the day from London, please follow this link:
http://juliahammond.co.uk/Travel/BLOG.html