Venice Diaries: Messing About in Boats

Searching for the perfect gondola - and gondolier

When we do finally plonk ourselves down in a gondola on our fifth and final day in Venice, it is the culmination of a long and arduous search. L. had two main requests when we got off the plane and boarded the water bus into the lagoon in which Venice perches: that we ride in a gondola and that said gondola travels under the Bridge of Sighs.

This seemed easy before we got to Venice but in fact is a lot harder than it should be. It is not hard to find a gondola. They are, as even the person who has never clapped eyes on Venice imagines, all over the place. Some websites say there are around 260-280 working boats in the city, which is less than you’d think, but then Venice isn’t as big as you think - it’s only two kilometres from the train station on the edge of the island to St. Mark’s Square.

260-280 boats suddenly look like a whole lot more, so finding a gondola isn’t an issue. There’s a place for gondolas to dock right outside of our hotel. It’s finding the gondola that takes the correct route that’s the issue and that correct route is one that takes a slow romantic ride right underneath the Bridge of Sighs.

Why underneath the Bridge of Sighs? Well if you kiss as you float underneath it you will be, as the legend goes, in love forever. I have in the past professed that I will love L. forever but she has made it plain that in this particular area she isn’t going to take any chances.

(Side note: the Bridge of Sighs is an enclosed bridge made of limestone and connects the Doge’s Palace to the prisons, and is named as such because of the sigh a prisoner would supposedly emit when being taken over it, as they took one last look at Venice before being condemned to a life behind bars. Romantic.)

It’s day two when we have our first near-miss when it comes to gondola-hunting. We’re walking through the alleys and streets near the Rialto Bridge, Venice’s gaudiest icon, when a gondola floats by, piloted by a particularly flamboyant gondolier who is singing and wearing his traditional hat. “I want him,” says L. with a force and passion I can only dream of receiving.

We find his docking spot in quick time, L. hunting it down like a sniffer dog on the trail of a career-defining bust, and find the boat but no gondolier. No matter, a quick hunt down an alley and L. has him. Yes he is working right now and yes he can take us in his gondola. Brilliant. But no he does not go under the Bridge of Sighs. This is not within his patch and to go there would cost more than the 90 euro (!) standard fee.

And so it’s back onto the streets for us. The idea that gondolas and their gondoliers have “patches” is news to us, and the fact that there isn’t just a specific route but a specific vibe we are hunting in our gondolier is news to me. L. is clear: this one was properly attired (read: wearing his hat) and properly behaved (read: singing as he guided his boat through the alleys and not doing too much chatting).

For the next couple of days (barring the time one or both of us spent supine in our hotel room thanks to a nasty bout of food poisoning, more on that next week) the route or the gondolier held us up. There are a couple of unpleasant experiences with the gondoliers, or men doing impressions of gondoliers at least, that sit on the edge of St. Mark’s Square, who despite being docked mere feet from the Bridge say that it isn’t in their territory either - unless we give them an astronomical sum like 200 euro.

We ask a few more reputable boatmen but their route is never one that incorporates the Bridge. For a small city Venice has a lot of patches and we cannot seem to find the one we want.

So by day five it is nearly time to give up. We have tried lots of gondoliers and none of them seem to go under the Bridge. We know it should be possible and social media (which of course would never lie) implies it is easy to do, but we cannot find a single boat that will take us. We will go on a gondola on this, our last afternoon and we will tell ourselves that we never wanted to go under the Bridge of Sighs anyway, we’re not bothered.

As part of our hunt we decide to go and at least look at the bridge before we head off to find our lucky gondolier. It is then and only then, when we see some boats docked right next to it, that it occurs to us that perhaps looking for a ride underneath the Bridge of Sighs while strolling along canals that are not anywhere near the Bridge of Sighs has not been our brightest moment.

We talk to a gondolier who goes by Elvis who when we ask him whether he will take us under the Bridge of Sighs, looks at the bridge and then back at us, and says, of course. Of course he will, he’s parked right next to it, he pretty much has to go under the bridge to get back to where he docks. L. asks Elvis if he’s definitely, 100% going to take us underneath the Bridge of Sighs (remember forever is on the line here) and Elvis tells us yes in a tone that suggests we’re not doing wonders for Anglo-Italian relations and that we should just get in the fucking boat.

And so we tumble in and have a wonderful time. The sun is shining, Elvis is wearing his hat, he is singing, and not being too chatty. He is also the most gorgeous man I have ever seen and even if he hadn’t taken us under the bridge we would thank him for just letting us breathe in his presence. He takes us around some of the quieter canals, and then out into the lagoon in front of the Doge’s Palace and St. Mark’s Square, and finally down through and underneath the Bridge of Sighs. It is wonderful.

So, how long will L. and I be in love? I’ll let you know when we get to forever.

---

A request.

You may have seen that since January I’ve been writing travel guides on topics of my choice. Well recently I did an interview post with

Samantha Childress

over on her publication

Caravanserai with Samantha Childress

- and answering her questions got me thinking. Instead of me picking the topics to write about in my guides - I’d like you to ask me your travel questions. In each post I’ll pick a few and answer them. So, what travel question would you like answering? It can be an ask for tips, advice or just my take on something. Leave a comment below with your question.

---

Thank you so much for reading. If you liked this post please do consider becoming a free or paid subscriber to Not That You Asked. Paid subscribers get two free travel guides a month for just £4.99, which is way cheaper than Netflix. If £4.99 is a bit steep in this economy there’s a 50% off forever sale on at the moment to celebrate two years of Not That You Asked.