As everyone knows, April 25 is a big date on the Venetian calendar: Not only is it the Feast of San Marco, but also Liberation Day, commemorating the end of World War II.
Seeing that San Marco gets precedence, having been around for some years before World War II, I like to focus on that part of the big day. And arguably the most important element is the long-stemmed red rose known as a “bocciolo” in Italian, and “bocolo” (BOH-ko-lo) in Venetian.
It’s simple: Any and every Venetian man gives a bocolo to the dearest ladies in his life, from wife to mother to sister to whoever else really matters to him. Or they just stick to mother and wife.
We went out early in our little boat to row around the city for a while, and the first step — literally, as we have to cross a bridge to get to the boat — was to buy a rose from the young man prowling on the bridge with a fistful of roses. Lino planned to give me a much more glamorous bocolo a little later, but it was unthinkable to appear in Venice in a roseless boat.
So until we finally reached the florist nearest to our hovel, we rowed around the city on a sampierota proudly bearing its very own bocolo, totally in tune with the day.
P.S.: Any reader who wants to chance his or her arm in plotting our route based on the photos is very welcome to let me know where we went. It’s just a game — if I’d wanted to make it really difficult, I’d have showed mainly reflections and walls.
Wonderful rowing tour, thanks to you and Lino (bocolouomo). I remain
astonished to see Venice so empty. Truly these days La Serenissima, but, as you say, a world of hurt.
Some gondoliers have tried going back to work. They’re offering rides for 20 euros. If this doesn’t stop soon, we’ll be paying with potatoes and onions.
I reckon that the chap with the chin hammock put his bocolo down in the pastry shop, so that he could pick up his coffee and cake (or whatever is in his left hand), and pay for them. I hope he remembered to pick it up before he went on his way.
But I need to ask, are there three bocoli in the picture above “Problem solved”?
Thanks for trying to help me figure this out. As I mentioned in the caption, we aren’t allowed inside the pastry shop/cafe. So, no leaving it inside. My current theory is that he lives somewhere on that street, and has already taken it home and presented it to his wife before rejoining his comrade-in-arms in the street. There are only two bocoli in the photo: The vertical one stuck into a bracket, and the horizontal one lying on the bow of the boat. Those were my allotment, no bonuses.
Thanks, again, for the glimpses of Venice. The idyllic, calm, waters must be admired even if the reasons are grim. To be able to row like that on almost empty canals, only meeting fellow venetians in their small boats looks so beautiful. I try to figure out the route you took. I see Rio della Tana and the bacino, but after Rialto I’m lost. Then I catch up again somewhere around Salizzada dei Greci, I think, but fail to see how you got there. Then homeward on the Rio della Tana again. A wonderful tour. Thank you for bringing back memories of happier times.
When walking to the office earlier today I saw a note on a (closed of course) theatre with a quote from a Swedish poet, author, actor and comedian with which I try to translate “Even if everything feels like shit, it is still your duty to be happy as to not increase the grief of the world”. I know that my translation can’t do justice to the quote, but there and then I felt the inspiration to look around for things to be happy about. Good friends, and their blogs, ar just such a thing.
Take care and hopfully we’ll all get the vaccine and try to figure out a new normal after this.
How wonderful to be able in future (? will there be one?) to be able to regard the touts trying hard to get your other half to buy you a plastic-imprisoned red rose as being the debased stragglers of the fine tradition to explain, rather than just another pesky hazard encountered as you cross St Mark’s Square in the evening!!
Thank you again. Still working on the route.
I love your descriptions of Venice. Thank you for sharing with us. It is refreshing to see the water like glass but I know how much this pandemic has affected the city. Ronda
11 Comments
Wonderful rowing tour, thanks to you and Lino (bocolouomo). I remain
astonished to see Venice so empty. Truly these days La Serenissima, but, as you say, a world of hurt.
Some gondoliers have tried going back to work. They’re offering rides for 20 euros. If this doesn’t stop soon, we’ll be paying with potatoes and onions.
I cry everytime I read your emails.
So touching.
Thank you for bringing Venice to me….
thanks for sharing Venezia and bocoli? with calm water a la Lino-il-ragazzo. It’s really tough to not be there in April.
What a wonderful day, I’m jealous. The experience of a silent row through calm canals just to go and buy a rose is like something from a dream.
I reckon that the chap with the chin hammock put his bocolo down in the pastry shop, so that he could pick up his coffee and cake (or whatever is in his left hand), and pay for them. I hope he remembered to pick it up before he went on his way.
But I need to ask, are there three bocoli in the picture above “Problem solved”?
Thanks for trying to help me figure this out. As I mentioned in the caption, we aren’t allowed inside the pastry shop/cafe. So, no leaving it inside. My current theory is that he lives somewhere on that street, and has already taken it home and presented it to his wife before rejoining his comrade-in-arms in the street. There are only two bocoli in the photo: The vertical one stuck into a bracket, and the horizontal one lying on the bow of the boat. Those were my allotment, no bonuses.
Thanks, again, for the glimpses of Venice. The idyllic, calm, waters must be admired even if the reasons are grim. To be able to row like that on almost empty canals, only meeting fellow venetians in their small boats looks so beautiful. I try to figure out the route you took. I see Rio della Tana and the bacino, but after Rialto I’m lost. Then I catch up again somewhere around Salizzada dei Greci, I think, but fail to see how you got there. Then homeward on the Rio della Tana again. A wonderful tour. Thank you for bringing back memories of happier times.
When walking to the office earlier today I saw a note on a (closed of course) theatre with a quote from a Swedish poet, author, actor and comedian with which I try to translate “Even if everything feels like shit, it is still your duty to be happy as to not increase the grief of the world”. I know that my translation can’t do justice to the quote, but there and then I felt the inspiration to look around for things to be happy about. Good friends, and their blogs, ar just such a thing.
Take care and hopfully we’ll all get the vaccine and try to figure out a new normal after this.
How wonderful to be able in future (? will there be one?) to be able to regard the touts trying hard to get your other half to buy you a plastic-imprisoned red rose as being the debased stragglers of the fine tradition to explain, rather than just another pesky hazard encountered as you cross St Mark’s Square in the evening!!
Thank you again. Still working on the route.
I love your descriptions of Venice. Thank you for sharing with us. It is refreshing to see the water like glass but I know how much this pandemic has affected the city. Ronda
The water looks lovely – like glass! You take great photos.