Venice without a map

Venice

By Clark Norton

Years ago, on the first of many trips to Venice, I bought a map.

It seemed prudent at the time. Built on a series of islets dotting a lagoon, Venice is an almost hopelessly twisted knot of winding streets and canals, arching stone bridges and narrow—sometimes blind—alleyways.

For more than a thousand years, this tangled web served to repel invaders and helped Venice survive as one of the great seafaring powers, worldly, wealthy and cultured—a dazzling fairyland of medieval palaces, Gothic churches, Renaissance guildhalls, Byzantine domes and soaring spires and towers that seem to float on the sea.

Today, Venice's maze of 3,000 streets, 150 canals and 400 bridges can bewilder the city's millions of annual tourists, many of whom fail to venture beyond the main tourist haunts.

To be sure, those haunts should not be missed: Piazza San Marco (St. Mark's Square), framed by splendid palaces and the ornately exotic St. Mark's Basilica; the Grand Canal, which snakes through the heart of the city lapping at the foundations of aging palazzi; the Rialto Bridge, which has crossed the Grand Canal in grand style since 1588; and the Gallerie dell'Accademia, which houses Venice's top art collection. But once you've done the must-sees, I suggest you leave the hordes behind to roam the less-trammeled areas of Venice with little more than your sense of adventure to guide you.

Gloriously lost

Compact, visually stunning, and free of motorized land vehicles, Venice is the ideal walking city-unless you're actually trying to find something. With its labyrinthine layout and cryptic street-numbering system, Venice can perplex even the most devoted map-reader. After purchasing my first map and soon realizing it was mostly a waste of time, I've seldom used one again.

Better to let yourself go and get gloriously lost. Start walking and let the maze lead you where it may, including out-of-the-way, slow-paced neighborhoods where visitors seldom tread. Besides the tourist haven of San Marco, Venice has five other districts, each different in its own way and all worth exploring. Your experiences-whether sightseeing, dining, even shopping—will be more authentic for it.

Peek down an out-of-the-way canal to catch an off-duty gondolier serenading his innamorata by cellphone. Stop to watch schoolboys kicking a soccer ball in a Renaissance—era courtyard. Check out the little markets where Venetians themselves shop. Relax over a cappuccino in a quiet campo (square) and eavesdrop on Italian chit-chat-even if you have no idea what it means. Stop into a bacari (coffee bar) and sample a spritz, the local favorite drink, made of sparkling white wine, Campari or Aperol, soda water and a slice of citrus. To get into the Venetian spirit, stand at the counter-it's less expensive than sitting at a table, and the locals will like you for it.

Not to worry: you'll never really get lost. Inevitably, as you wander, you'll come upon signs pointing the way to landmarks such as San Marco, Rialto, Accademia, Ferrovia (the train station), or Piazzale Roma (the modern plaza near the train station and car park). Occasionally, you may encounter two signs pointing in opposite directions-to the exact same site. If that's the case, follow Yogi Berra's sage advice: "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

And if you happen upon an entrance to the Grand Canal, you can always hop on a Number 1 vaporetto (public water bus) and ride it in the direction of your hotel; it's one of the world's great boat trips.

Roundabout ramblings

Since I usually stay in the area near the train station, which is on the opposite side of the city from St. Mark's, I find myself strolling at least once or twice a day between the two. While I've made this walk dozens of times over the years, I doubt if I've ever followed precisely the same route twice. These ramblings have sometimes carried me to some memorable discoveries along the way.

That was how I first found the Scuola Grande di San Rocco. This 500-year-old guildhall in the San Polo district is adorned with 56 remarkable paintings by the 16th-century master Tintoretto, including his monumental Crucifixion. It's a stunning display, but far enough off the tourist track that comparatively few visitors ever get there.

And that Tintoretto discovery, in turn, led me in a roundabout way to the Ghetto, the old Jewish area of Venice. One morning I was on a quest to find the Chiesa (church) Madonna dell'Orto, where Tintoretto was buried. I knew the church was on the far side of the Cannaregio district, and so I began walking in its general direction, open to whatever I might find along the way. Eventually I crossed a bridge into a shaded square that I later learned gave the word "ghetto" to the world.

Starting from the early 16th century, many Jews came to Venice, fleeing persecution in Spain and other lands. Many prospered here as traders and physicians. Over the centuries, thousands of Jews lived in this district, surrounded by water and held in by gates, guards, and nighttime curfews—which served both to restrict and protect them. Today, the Ghetto is still home to their onetime apartment buildings (some of the tallest in the city), five synagogues, the Jewish Museum, some shops, and a few remaining Jewish families. It's part of a rich history of the city that most visitors never experience.

While I didn't make it to the Madonna dell'Orto that day, I wasn't disappointed. (Later I learned you can easily reach the church by vaporetto-problem solved!)

No north or south

When I began traveling with my wife, I found she wasn't so enthusiastic about forgoing a map. To her, getting lost is not a romantic concept, but she does admit that it sometimes has its side benefits.

The first time she and I visited Venice together, we were wandering amid a rabbit warren of streets and canals in the Castello section beyond St. Mark's, searching for a certain trattoria for lunch. Being mapless, we were fumbling along on very sketchy directions provided by a passerby: a wave of a hand and a flick of a wrist, followed by a few words in Italian that translated into something like "Straight ahead, you can't miss it!" (a common Venetian joke) and a knowing smile that said, "Good luck, Americano, try to stay out of the canal." I have no idea how anyone could give helpful directions in Venice. They say in Venice there is no north or south, to which I would add, no east or west-and never, ever "straight ahead." Soon lost and increasingly hungry, we spotted an aging building along a canal that was attracting a fair number of visitors. Could it be a trattoria? No-and lucky for us. Entering the 16th-century Scuola Dalmata dei Santi Giorgio e Trifone, we were treated instead to one of Venice's finest and least-known visual feasts.

A little chapel was lined with some of the most captivating artworks we've ever seen—wall panels depicting scenes from the lives of saints George, Jerome, and Trifone—a masterwork of the early Renaissance by Venetian painter Vittore Carpaccio. They ranked among the most unforgettable sights of that entire visit. I've never returned to the city without making the Carpaccios one of my first stops. Of course, I usually get lost along the way.

I will admit that my Venice—without-a-map strategy does have potential drawbacks, often having to do with food. Many times I've passed a wonderful-looking little trattoria snuggled up against an impossibly picturesque canal, and thought: "What a great spot for dinner!" Yet no matter how hard I try to replicate my route come dinnertime, I'm thwarted more often than not. Instead, I usually end up lost on an entirely different path, but with much the same result: happening upon yet another hidden gem of a restaurant, tucked along another impossibly picturesque canal. I wouldn't want it any other way.

New York freelancer Clark Norton is a frequent traveler to Venice.

AAA offers a wide variety of Venice cruises, hotels and tours to suit your personal interests. See your AAA Travel agent or visit www.aaa.com.