I met up with Mamma and Marco at the train station at 9am. It seemed silly for me to trek all the way over to Giudecca and then go to the station, or them come to me, so this was efficient use of everyone’s time. Padova is only about 30 minutes from Venice once you get on the mainland. Whereas they usually take a bus to the basilica, I offered to get us a taxi, and she agreed. Marco looked surprised that she agreed to be part of an expenditure. It was a few minutes in the cab and only 5Euro. I can handle it.
Outside the basilica stands an equestrian statue (life-size) made by Donatello. It was the first of its kind in a thousand years when he cast it in bronze in the mid 1450s. He also created the altar inside the Basilica that I was about to see.
Saint Anthony was born in the very late 12th century to a wealthy Portuguese family and became a monk after receiving the best education possible for the time. He gave his life over to the church as a poor Franciscan monk and moved to Italy where he lived in a cave and meditated, barely ever needing to speak to anyone. He was asked to give a sermon one day during a service when the appointed speaker didn’t show up. As he spoke, Anthony was filled with the holy spirit and preached on eloquently to the audience. Francis of Assisi (still alive, not St. Francis yet) heard about his gift for speaking and sent him on tour to talk to the masses. He had found his gift and used it for the next decade until he died at 36 in 1231, having settled in Padova just the year before. The church started being built in his honor only a year later when he was canonized. He was fast-tracking to sainthood thanks to the miracles he performed during his life.
The Basilica is one of the most important pilgrimage sites in Christendom. People make the trip to place their offerings and prayers on the tomb. Anthony is the patron saint for the poor, the barren, the pregnant and for everything from horses to fishermen to lost articles. I brought prayers and wishes from friends and family to offer up, as did the Marsons.
There are also offerings of thanks for prayers answered – photos of babies born after years of trying, photos of wrecked cars thanking the Saint for helping them through it. About 10 years ago Marco was in a car crash with two friends; one was in bad shape and might have lost use of his legs. The families are convinced their prayers to St. Anthony saved him from amputation, and today the friend has to walk with use of a cane, but at least he can walk. The envelopes, photos and votives all have “PGR” inscribed, so I pointed and asked what it means. “Per Grazie Ricevuta” - for answered prayers.
Reliquaries usually freak me out, and there are definitely some interesting things to be found in this basilica. Along with pieces of the One True Cross of Christ (how big was that thing – I mean REALLY – there are more pieces of that wood than matchsticks in the world) are relics from the saint himself. Encased are the tongue and vocal chords of Anthony, brought out after exhumation in 1363. They are intact, even after the body had turned to dust. Plus the jawbone. Perfectly fitting, since he preached the word to so many people.
Right after the millennium the reliquary containing the tongue of St. Anthony was stolen, but then soon recovered. Who was responsible for getting it back so quickly? The mafia bosses. Even they were horrified that anyone associated with them would carry out such a heinous act. I would not have wanted to be in the room with that poor guy when “family” justice was meted out.
We caught a taxi and made our way back to the station. We were back in Venice just past noon. I left them to make their way back to Giudecca and I headed out to get some lunch near the Rialto market. I stopped at home to grab the camera, then across the Grande Canal to Bancogiro for a cheese plate with preserves. It was pretty amazing and a great way to relax and just people-watch for a while. Went on autopilot for a bit, then back to the apartment.
The rest of the day was spent puttering around with the computer, doing laundry and generally cleaning up after myself. I needed to eat some of the leftovers piling up before they went to waste. Around 9pm I received a call from Kathleen the Aussie asking if I was coming by the hotel that night, but I declined. We made plans for lunch on Saturday – I told her to meet me at the San Stae vap stop so we could go to La Zucca, one of my favorites. I figured since she has to be so sheltered in the ultra-male-dominated world in Chad it would be good to take her to a restaurant run by women and staffed almost exclusively by women. I think there’s only been one male server in all the years I’ve been going there.
I finally settled into bed after writing for a bit. It was 1AM when suddenly the sky opened up with a torrential downpour. Thunder and lightning all night. It was spectacular. You can’t hear anything from the sound of the water gushing through downspouts and onto the paving stones. It was that way for the rest of the night and I slept hard. I tend to sleep very well when it rains. I hope it doesn’t rain all day tomorrow. I still have some shopping to do, and my lunchdate with Kathleen.
Mmmm... cheese and bread
My favorite - Caffe del Doge (it's also fair-trade, y'all)
Olive in the Aperol spritz. Love the color.
On the banks of the Grand Canal, watching the vaporetti go by.
No comments:
Post a Comment