The last port of call on Viking Star’s Mediterranean Odyssey was Venice. Beautiful Venezia, La Serenissima, so-called because the once all-powerful city state was referred to in Italian as the Most Serene Republic of Venice or Serenissima Repubblica di Venezia. No matter how many times I have been there, the city fascinates me, captivates me and entrances me in a way no other place on earth does. But always in Venice, beneath its breathtaking beauty, there is a hint of melancholy. And this trip was no different. Except here part of the sadness was that this was indeed the end of our amazing voyage.
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| Viking Star at anchor off Monte Carlo |
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| My favorite bartender, Dejan from Montenegro |
Switzerland, abides by labor laws that are unheard of on other lines. There are, I was told, 1000 applications for each position on board. There’s a test taken to assure compatibility with Viking’s ideals. The crew are well cared-for and therefore they care for the passengers. It’s hard to express how much I will miss them.
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| My friends Mary (l.) and Esther Lee (r.) flanking an unknown man wearing my shirt and sweater. |
No matter how many times I’ve been to Venice, there is always more to explore. Viking offers any number of excursions for first time visitors to the city. But I chose Hidden Venice. In all honesty, the most hidden thing about the tour was that Venice, perpetually mobbed by tourists, was hidden by throngs of people. Our arrival on a glorious Saturday did not help. Our guide was a wildly amusing older man but the sights were mostly very familiar. Only his monologue was original. But I was with two great new friends
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| My favorite waiter, I Ketat, on of 60 Balinese crewmembers |
with whom I had been laughing out loud since Sailaway in Barcelona. So it hardly mattered when, at the end of the tour, when we’d gone off to have one last Aperol Spritz, we managed to miss our group vaporetto back to the ship and had to self-navigate, which turned out to be a perfect way to enjoy one last glorious sunset.
With Charles Azvanour’s “Que c’est triste Venise” (How sad is Venice) playing in my mind, I packed my bags, had one last glorious dinner of ‘Fegato alla Venezia’ (Calf’s Liver Venetian-style) and slipped off to sleep dreaming about the final chapter in my glorious trip: A reunion in Milano with my entire Italian family: The La Ferla-Minciotti-Amatruda clan all together in one glorious place.
Charles Azvanour’s Lyrics to “Que c’est triste Venise”
Que c’est triste Venise
Au temps des amours mortes
Que c’est triste Venise
Quand on ne s’aime plus
On cherche encore des mots
Mais l’ennui les emporte
On voudrait bien pleurer
Mais on ne le peut plus
Que c’est triste Venise
Lorsque les barcaroles
Ne viennent souligner
Que les silences creux
Et que le coeur se serre
En voyant les gondoles
Abriter le bonheur
Des couples amoureux
