In the Hood

Venice, Italy - We have been in Venice for about a week, so I figure it's time to show my faithful readers around the neighborhood.

We live in the Castello district, which is just east of the central Piazza San Marco. I still don't know why it's called Castello. It sounds like there should be a castle here, but there's not, unless you count the ancient and off-limits Arsenal. This massive fortree occupies a huge portion of the Castello, so perhaps it is the namesake.

But the neighborhood is better known for its maze of alleyways, strung with drying laundry; its intricate network of canals, crosscrossed by bridges; and its sun-filled squares, each with its own church and bell tower, ringing out on the hour.

Our local square, or campo, is the Campo Santa Maria Formosa, complete with 13th-century palace, 15th-century church and 21st-century capuccino bar. According to my guidebook, it is "the quintessential canalside campo", which means gondoliers sitting in the sun, singing to potential fares passing by, and no less than five footbridges leading to and fro.

There are many things to love about Venice, but the thing I lovet he most is the abundance of whimsical architectural eccentricities, often in the most unexpected places. Mighty lions, pious Virgins, funny faces (or "grotesque", as this one is called) adorn otherwise featureless facades. These details pop out whenever you think to pay attention to such things (and sometimes when you don't).

The Campo Santa Maria Formosa is far enough off the tourist trail that it has a real "neighborhood" atmosphere, thanks to local residents buying produce, kids playing kickball and dogs making it their own. Most importantly, it has - down a dark, narrow alley - an unpretentious enoiteca, La Mascareta. We did not intend to make this "our place", but somehow we keep ending up here for wine and cicetti (snacks).

Our flat is one bridge off the Campo Santa Maria Formosa, which means we have a tiny slit of a view of the square from our kitchen window. Otherwise, we look out at a narrow green canal and the grand facade of the building opposite.

This seems very romantic, especially when the occasional singing gondolier passes beneath our window. But we soon realized that overlooking the canal in Venice is equivalent to overlooking the street anywhere else in the world. Basically, it means there is traffic outside our window (and let me tell you, the water taxi drivers are not averse to using their water taxi horns).

Our apartment is in a 15th-century townhouse, complete with original woodbeam ceilings and replica marble floors. The walls are lined with bookshelves and hung with prints. We quickly learned how to use the stove-top espresso maker, so we've got the most important stuff down.

I anticipate the kitchen will be seeing a lot more action, especially since we recently discovered the wine shop where we bring our own bottles and fill them straight from the barrel. At 2 Euros a pop, there is only one thing to say: Salute!