It’s 10 p.m. in Venice, and my shipmates and I are alone in the 1000-year-old St. Mark’s Basilica. “Come around here,” says our guide, “and sit down. I want to show you something truly special.” With that, she unveils an altarpiece that’s around the size of a grade school chalkboard, but gleams like a thousand stars. We let out a collective gasp. The Pala d’Oro is a Byzantine masterpiece studded with thousands of pearls, 300 emeralds, 300 sapphires, 400 garnets, 100 amethysts and a sprinkling of rubies and topazes. And it’s not even the most impressive thing I’ve seen today.
I originally came on this luxury river cruise to play the part of “tortured artist” while finishing the edits on my novel. The plan was to stare longingly out of the windows of the S.S. La Venezia riverboat over the shadowy backdrop of Venice. I was looking forward to eight days of Italian wines and introspective yearning. Sadly, my plan was immediately foiled when two sisters from Ohio, and their friend from Florida sat down beside me during the welcome cocktails. After that, I was simply too busy to brood.
The Panini Bar on the S.S. La Venezia. Photo: Courtesy Amy Rosen
Uniworld’s Venice & the Jewels of Veneto is an eight-day itinerary aboard the S.S. La Venezia, whereby a maximum of 120 guests travel the Venetian Lagoon, sailing to nearby island gems including Burano, Padua, Chioggia and Murano. Exclusive excursions, including the aforementioned after-hours visit to Saint Mark’s Basilica, are a major draw.
To that end, an early morning tour in the Doge’s Palace in St. Mark’s Square (alongside my retired riverboat besties) happens before it opens to the public for the day. Inside, the palace is swathed in Tintoretto’s wall-sized Paradise and works by Veronese, Tiepolo and Titian. Sky-high gilded frescos sparkle as the sun streams through leaded glass windows. The magic continues as we stroll through the neighbouring Castello district, where 800-year-old homes have canals for driveways. The cobbled streets are brimming with quaint cafés and shops, and kids kicking soccer balls down winding alleyways. The entire neighbourhood feels like a living celebration of culture and history.
Strolling under the arches outside the Doge’s Palace. Photo: Courtesy Amy Rosen
Another day, after a short ride along a canal in a mahogany water taxi (think: George and Amal Clooney at their wedding), we visit the Rialto market and I’m gobsmacked by the violet artichokes from the nearby island of Sant’Erasmo, zucchini blossoms born to become fritters, eggplants, squash, Venetian-bred radicchio rosa – all on display beneath 11th-century Gothic arches. At the end of the walking tour, we pop into a bacaro (casual wine bar) for a cicchetti e ombre (Venetian happy hour) – in this case, a glass of Prosecco with crostini schmeared with baccalà mantecato (salt cod spread).
By the time we hit the colourful town of Burano, I’m itching to try the renowned local cookies. Our charming cruise manager, Louisa Warman, suggests a place called Palmisano. To get there, my posse and I are told to go over a wooden bridge, down an alley, across a canal, hit the main square and across another bridge, where the famous little bakery should be to the left. Amazingly, we find it, and I buy a few of their signature S- and O-shaped cookies for my pals. The cookies are vanilla-scented and buttery, at once both firm and tender and meant to be dipped in coffee, which is our next stop. But when one of my friends drops her cookie, and the other accidentally stomps on it, we are all doubled over laughing, in tears.
Navigating a small canal. Photo: Blend Images/PBNJ Productions
While there’s a lot to enjoy in the “floating city,” the same holds true aboard our vessel. One afternoon, as we sail to the glass-blowing island of Murano, sommelier Tamara Andruszkiewicz leads us in a Prosecco tasting in Hari’s Bar and Lounge, the on-board bar. Bottles are popped and whoops fill the room. “Prosecco makes people happy,” she notes. Our first bottle, Prosecco Extra Dry Millesimato DOC by Principi di Porcia, is poured into flutes so we can observe the “perlage,” the effervescent bubbles, rising up the glass. “Never swirl a Prosecco,” says Andruszkiewicz. “Instead, rotate the flute slightly and smell.” The packed lounge starts audibly sniffing. “Heavy on the pear, melon and citrus. What else?”
A Bellini at Harry’s Bar. Photo: Mode Images/Alamy
“Grapefruit!” shouts one guest from a flocked velvet banquette. “Peach blossoms,” yelps another from a damask armchair. “White flowers on a spring morning,” offers yet another guest, clearly embracing the romance of Venice.
Who can blame her? It’s hard not to fall for the art, the architecture and the food. Our boat’s chef visits the market when we dock in Chioggia, buying up fresh fish from a few of the hundreds of fishermen who set off on the Adriatic Sea most mornings. Back on the S.S. La Venezia, the elegant lunch buffet reflects the icy stalls of the fishmongers, including giant langoustines, fritto misto and the Chioggia classic of fusilli a la tuna. “It’s not just about the local food and wine on-board,”says Warman. “It’s also about the food culture.” From the cheeses (Gorgonzola! Montasio!), to mains like pan-fried branzino with an artichoke cream and ossobuco with risotto alla Milanese, the food on board is local and delicious, and different Veneto wines are sommelier-chosen to complement the mains each evening.
Pan-fried branzino with artichoke cream served in the ship’s dining room. Photo: Courtesy Amy Rosen
But it’s also about the hospitality. The night of our after-hours St. Mark’s Basilica tour, we’re greeted with 11:00 p.m. Neapolitan pizzas, served hot from the pizza oven on the ship’s rooftop deck. A troupe of smiling servers offer up slices with silver tongs. I try to wave off Ion, my favourite – he looks like Mr. Bean and is just as funny – but end up eating three slices of margherita and drinking two glasses of pinot noir instead. Such is life on-board.
But the best part of my entire trip is exploring Venice with new friends who reveal themselves along with the city: the opera brings one to tears; another’s new Italian shoes summon our cheers. There’s a great-grandchild on the way; there’s also mourning the death of a beloved husband. While I may have come on the cruise with the idea of being alone, these lovely ladies showed me I probably just don’t have the brooding artist gene in me. It appears I am someone who enjoys sharing immeasurable beauty in the company of others, as hearts heal and cookies crumble.
