STALKER

Chapter 74 - 25th February 1721 - Venice Part 2

There are translations of the none English dialogue and an explanation of a Gnaga mask 

When I walked out from under the colonnade, past the column stopped by the Venetian Lion and St Theodore and the Dragon I headed for the main part of the square. My head automatically followed the dramatic line upwards to the bell tower shimmering in the golden morning light, and my breath caught in my throat. This jump filled me with unexpected emotions. The previous ones were in some way familiar with my own life experiences but this was like a dream; I was in a fairy tale; I was inhabiting a painting in a museum. To add to my unique perspective, my view of the world was through the eye holes of my mask and forced me to frame the scenes before me. I was surprised by the thrill every vista produced in me. I glimpsed the inside of the candlelit Basilica for a moment before I turned and faced the length of the square. My knees shook. It felt like my heart beat harder in my chest to make sure I knew that this was real.

There were four small white tents in front of the Basilica where peddlers sold fake relics, rosaries, and church offerings to pilgrims and travellers; 1800s version of tourists. I told myself I would find the café and shop, then come back to the stalls. They might provide me with what I need.

A mellow yellow light lit the entire building on the left side of the Square, it was strange to see the stone walls were dirty and weathered than in my time, it was hard to get my head around. Torn and tattered hessian canopies hung over some shopfronts and the odd window on the top floors.  Looking at the buildings I knew time would treat them well and the romantic paintings most definitely glossed over the dirt and grim.

A cold wind sent my cloak flying up. It was only then that the spell I'd been under dissolved and I became aware of my new reality. I pulled my cloak tightly around me with one hand, grateful that I was wearing gloves, a thick woollen jumper and an undershirt. I held tightly onto the tote bag with the other. I headed for the far right corner and started skirting around the square. I shook off any trepidation I felt and walked as confidently as I could. I realised as I passed one person after another I was considerably taller than most. From what I could see there were a large number of people of both sexes were wearing masks and capes that covered a multitude of sins.

I knew the Café Florian was on the left-hand side, it was the Vezzi Porcelain that I needed to locate. I passed one shop after another, intrigued by the dark interiors which were lit up by chandeliers or lanterns. Several of the shops sold the famous Venetian fabrics brocades, velvet, and silks that had made the merchants of the city rich men. You couldn't miss the spice shops. As you got closer the air became thick. The mix of scents making your nose twitch. Enormous wooden tubs overflowing with herbs and spices lay on tables and hung in bunches drying from hooks in the ceiling.

There were bakeries, tailors, butchers, a bakery with a huge stone wood fired oven and an apothecary, that looked more like a witch's den. Gentlemen and women went about their day, going in and out of these shops out with little parcels and wicker baskets. The idea of how stuffy the shops must have been left me feeling irked, I would only go in if I had to.

Finally at the end of the long row of shops I found it, Vezzi Porcelain, these tiny tea cups, and teapots are rare things in my time. This is the money-making part of my jump. It was pitch black inside. I tested the door, it was closed. Perhaps it was too early in the day.

I kept going and eventually stood in front of the famous Café Florian, originally called Alla Venezia Trionfante but the name didn't stick. It's still around in my day. The price of a modern coffee corresponding to how long the café has existed. Not a place for a quick cup of java for your average 2022 backpacker.