10 things we loved (and 5 we didn't) in venice

You’ll love it or hate it. That’s the No. 1 reaction I got when I told people we’d be spending time in Venice this summer. Of course, lots of them weighed in one way or another, and there was no gray area: the terrible food, the horrific heat and ghastly crowds, the stench. The world-class art, the breathtaking architecture, the sheer coolness of a ‘floating city’ with a history like no other. After a week getting lost (usually but not always on purpose) in its labyrinthine alleys, catching the vaporetto like we do the A train back at home and continuing our European gelato tour, our verdict is less black-and-white. We loved it, we hated it. Here’s our scorecard, by the numbers:

THE BAD

1. The crowds. It’s true: Venice teems with hordes from all over the world. Twenty million tourists a year, to be exact. Piazza San Marcos, its most famous landmark, is crowded enough to make a Manhattan native feel claustrophobic. We’d heard it was fun to see Venice by riding the vaporettos (the equivalent of our public buses in NYC) stop by stop, but the main lines were crammed with bodies, day and night. Plus it was hot and stuffy inside and hot and sunny on the deck (see No. 2).

2. The heat. It was July. Yes, we expected to be hot. But Western Europe was recording historical high temps and it certainly was broiling in this lagoon (except for our blissfully air-conditioned Airbnb apartment): in the mostly shadeless piazzas, on the boats, even in most museums.

Max, shirtless in the extreme heat, eyes a gondolier and his long pants.

3. The food. Venice has a reputation for bad cuisine that’s neither affordable nor authentically Italian. We weren’t there long enough to make a definitive declaration on this, and I’m sure there are wonderful restaurants. It did feel harder to find a simple, great meal with kids that didn’t break the bank. But we found workarounds — they are on the Good list.

4. Murano. I visited this island, famous for its hand-blown glass, when I was 12. I remember it as a vibrant place where you could wander into workshops and watch artisans making vases, paperweights and delicate little animals by hand. This time around, it felt like a ghost town. We walked around in the blinding sun, asking locals about glass workshops, and finally found one. They were doing a demonstration for a huge Korean tour group. We tagged along. Watching the artist use a fire-filled furnace, metal tools and a bucket of cold water to make a horse out of glass was cool, but the hard sell afterward in the adjoining store? Not so much. We pretended to browse, then fled.

O captain, my captain: The best thing about Murano was this adorable hat he begged us to buy to shield his eyes from the sun.

5. That waitress (she knows who she is). At a restaurant just a few turns from our apartment, we were seated at an outside table, next to a running water fountain (and — bonus! — all the mosquitoes the pooled water underneath attracted at dusk). We ordered a full meal for four, including alcohol. The server was fine and seemed friendly; she recommended a dish, I ordered it. Then, halfway through dinner, I got up and filled Max’s glass (he didn’t like the juice I’d ordered) with a few ounces from that water fountain.

She sprinted outside, yelled at me that this is NOT ALLOWED HERE, then talked with her coworkers about me, loudly, in Italian, next to us, gesturing at me, for a good five minutes. “So then you want to order a water,” she declared. An overpriced bottle of water for the table when my 4-year-old just wanted a few sips to wash down his mediocre pizza? No way, lady. We got the check instead. Afterwards, whenever we walked by this place, I fantasized about parking Max at the fountain and making him slurp water and wave at her all day long.

THE GOOD

1. Cicchetti. Pronounced chick-KET-tea, this is how to do meals in Venice if you don’t mind informal dining. Served in bars called bacaro, and in some restaurants, they come in infinite shapes, sizes and tastes: fried bites of seafood, crostini topped with everything from creamed codfish and cold cuts to pumpkin, pickled vegetables and zucchini flowers. Most cost $1 to $2.50 apiece; some are free if you buy drinks.

We found other tasty, simple food around town, including this cone of fried seafood and Max’s favorite takeout pasta.

Not gelato, but a different kind of yummy cone.

Max decided to plunk down and eat his pasta on the street. He gets it from his Mama.

2. The tap water. Some of the (unexpectedly) tastiest we’ve had on our European trip! We didn’t buy bottled water during our week in Venice; we just refilled at home or from the many public fountains around the city. And, for the record, the canals smelled fine.

These fountains refilled our bottles and kept us from melting.

3. Pigeons. They could go on my Bad list for obvious reasons, but I’m putting them here because Max adored them. Chasing them, that is. He’s a New Yorker, so pigeons are not exotic. He doesn’t run after them at home. But something about these pigeons — congregating in clusters, aggressive and unafraid of humans — enthralled him. Some tourists here famously like to let the birds sit on their arms and heads. (Gross.) Max thrilled at chasing them down. If fowl are capable of revenge, I fear for poor Max, who developed a reputation as the Pigeon Terrorizer of Venice.

The pigeons in the Piazza San Marco meet their match.

4. Lido Beach. One one of the most stiflingly hot days, we took a boat to the island of Lido — most famous for the annual Venice Film Festival held here — and spent the day at the beach. We rented chairs, towels and an umbrella, ate cherries I bought at a fruit market, had some lunch at a snack bar. It wasn’t the prettiest beach in the world, and it was more crowded than we’d normally prefer. Also, the sand was hot enough to make grown men cry. But the water was just right and it was a perfect break from the hustle-bustle of Venice.

5. Farini. It’s an Italian chain of cafe/bakeries. So maybe I’m crowing about the Venetian equivalent of Starbucks. I don’t care. They serve so many things that I like — really good baked goods, coffee drinks, alcohol and free cicchetti in the evenings — all in one place. And they’re open all day, unlike traditional restaurants, which start serving dinner at 7:30 or 8pm. So on some days when we were hungry and didn’t feel like battling the bacaro crowds or getting yelled at by our local waitress, the kids had pizza and we had a spritz, beer and/or glass of Prosecco and free focaccia. Win-win!

3 of the most important major food groups (coffee, dessert & alcohol) were served at this counter.

6. Getting lost. One of the best things about Venice was the maze of streets, footbridges and alleys (some of them barely wide enough for us to walk through with our hand luggage). Google Maps is sort of broken here, so we used trial & error, paper maps, memory and luck to explore the various neighborhoods, from the old Jewish Ghetto to the cool university district, Dorsoduro. One of Lulu’s favorite activities was to play navigator. On long walks, when we’d come to a crossroads, she could choose her own adventure. At first she worried about “picking the wrong one.” But if we weren’t rushing to catch a train or wilting from the heat, Matthew told her there wasn’t a wrong way — even if it took us longer to get to where we were going, that was part of the fun. Her eyes sparkled as she chose directions and led us through squares and streets we otherwise never would have seen.

7. The Doge’s Palace. This landmark was the residence of the Doge (or Duke) of Venice, the supreme authority of the former Venetian Republic. Usually we stay away from major history lessons with our young kids, but this one was a hit. It had something for everyone: masterpieces by Titian and Tintoretto, an actual prison, armor and weapons of all sorts, including child-sized (this inspired a LOT of questions from my 4-year-old), and the skeleton of a cat that belonged to a former Duke … along with the skeleton of the mouse that was buried with it.

Max testing out the Mouth of Truth, where Venetians could anonymously accuse each other of crimes.

Looking out from the Bridge of Sighs, where prisoners — who were accused, tried and convicted in secret — would catch their last glimpse of daylight en route to the adjoining prison.

8. All those steps. Given that Venice is in a lagoon, with water replacing streets as the main thoroughfares, you might expect that we glided around in boats most of the time. But between the prohibitive cost of a gondola ride — they start at more than $80 for half an hour — and the crowded vaporettos, my Fitbit was hitting new records (and our feet were perpetually dead) from all the walking. The upsides: My favorite way to explore any city is on foot. And most of Venice’s more than 400 picturesque footbridges are made of stairs, meaning we left the stroller in the lobby of our walkup all week long. Just like that, Max graduated to the Majors, joining the league of big boys who don’t need to be pushed around Europe in a stroller.

Strollerless Max logged thousands of steps a day. Sometimes he lucked out and caught a piggyback ride.

9. Gelato. Unlike food, great ice cream was not hard to find here.

10. The adventure. Something about being holed up on a beautiful, but challenging, floating island for a week made us all a giddy, loopy and grateful to be in it together.

This was NOT staged. They were actually dancing in the streets.

venice in pictures: more of my favorite photos here!