When you go to Ravenna, which you will surely want to after reading about it here, just remember that most shops are closed on Thursday afternoon. That was when I made my first trek to the yarn store, just across from one of Ravenna’s famous baptisteries. I stood outside in the drizzling rain, and it was all I could do not to press my nose against the windows.
Not easily deterred from seeking out yarn, I went back on Friday evening. “Casa della Lana e del Cotone,” the House of Wool and Cotton, was like a beacon in the gathering dusk. The shelves were stocked with all kinds of great novelty yarns. Most were Italian-made. I even found some corded cottons in pretty colors, to be knitted on about size 3 needles, which I haven’t seen around in the US for a long time.
One wall was devoted to very fine yarns in many shades of color. I assumed they were meant for combining, to achieve even more colors. They could also have been for machine knitting (though they were in hanks), or just for plain old very fine knitting.
One of the three ladies in the store knitted with the yarn around her neck for tension. She manipulated the yarn with her left thumb. The ladies didn’t speak any more English than I did Italian, but we understood each other well enough. I said, “Italiano lana es bella!” “The best!” agreed the boss lady.
I left with two souvenirs: the gray and pink Mondial and the black and rainbow Filatura di Crosa. Both are Italian yarns. Filatura di Crosa is the yarn manufactured under the name of the famous knitting Missoni family. I’d like to visit their design studio, factory, etc., someday.
It could only have been fate and luck, or maybe even divine guidance, that put this pretty little yarn store in my path in Venice. It is just off the Menin Square, before the Cortes bridge on the island of St. Marco. It was small, like most of the shops in Venice. Maybe that is why only one skein of each yarn color is displayed on the shelves.
Three masked men and women entered the train to Venice. No one on the crowded train even took a second look. Do people normally ride trains with masks on? Is it an Italian thing?
Wait a minute…the masks were golden. It’s February–Mardi Gras time. Imagine the cogs in my brain grinding slowly into position. Aha! It was Carneval day in Venice.
In spite of dire predictions of ankle-high water and missed connections, Dean, one of my mosaic classmates, and I took the train to Venice for the day. We arrived on time to find the station crowded with people wearing silly hats and masks.
Our destination was St. Mark’s Plaza, with the fabulous basilica, where the stolen remains of St. Mark are entombed. Having left our hotel too early for the wonderful breakfast, we stopped at a good-sized park plaza to have a coffee and a bite to eat.
“If we head off to the left, we can cross at this bridge,” said Dean, pointing to one of the three spots where a person can walk across the Grand Canal. We headed off to the left, and made our way through the narrow streets and across the tiny bridges of Venice.
Ages later, we crossed the Grand Canal. According to the map, we managed to go across town to the other major bridge, which would have originally been far off to our right. The city is like a maze with high walls and unexpected dead ends.
The crowds got denser and more beautifully dressed. Many wore 18th century costumes with elaborate headdresses and masks.
Sort of by accident we found St. Mark’s Basilica. We photographed it from afar, because the square was thick with people, performers, noise, people, hats, people, people, people.
Realizing that the crowds would only get worse as the evening approached, we headed back to the train station, stopping for lunch and souvenirs for our families on the way.
Long train rides, hundreds of thousands of people on a wintery day, primitive bathrooms, and a great, great time.