Most of Venice is centuries old, laid out before even before coaches and carriages. In\u00a0Venice\u00a0you go by foot or boat, and our hotel was 3.3\u00a0km of lagoon away. It would be boat.\u00a0Hungry but excited, we skipped the\u00a0snack bar chips and schlepped our bags\u00a0across the piazza\u00a0to the vaporetto.<\/p>\n The Number 1. The slow boat.\u00a0Makes all the stops.\u00a045 minutes to\u00a0St. Mark’s Square.<\/p>\n Still, Venice is Venice.<\/p>\n It turns out the hotel\u2019s private dock\u00a0was unmarked.\u00a0Not a\u00a0sign in\u00a0Italian, Latin or any\u00a0language.\u00a0I should point out there is an entire bank of unmarked sloops. We trudged\u00a0up and down canalside, loving the view but cursing the signage. An hour or so later we managed upon the hotel boat, and off we went, another 15 minutes of gorgeous lagoon to our hotel.<\/p>\n I probably should have mentioned that we off-season splurged. Hotel San Clemente isn\u2019t a building \u2013 it\u2019s\u00a0an island. Its own island.<\/p>\n So we walked through the\u00a0windswept\u00a0courtyards\u00a0to the reception lobby, and found the island\u2019s only restaurant closed. It was for the best, seeing the menu\u2019s five-star prices. \u201cThere is food in the bar,\u201d we were assured.<\/p>\n Except the bar looked like the sort of room where emperors used to sign peace treaties. Sounds\u00a0great, doesn\u2019t it? A little uninviting, but fantastic. And empty. The bartender regarded us the late-arriving, church-climb sweat-dried,\u00a0train funked and vaparetto fumed interlopers that we in fact were. \u201cThere is room service,\u201d we were assured.<\/p>\n Look, this is\u00a0not like this is Les Miserables<\/em> or anything, but somewhat desperate times call for somewhat desperate measures. On the room service menus were pastas and meat dishes that sung to the empty stomach. Their prices flirted with the absurd. For \u20ac21 ($35) we could split a club sandwich. The best terrible deal on the island, done and done.<\/p>\n It\u2019s a complex thing spending that much a sandwich, and it plays out in stages. First,\u00a0there is regret:\u00a0that\u00a0you didn’t\u00a0look harder at the train station, that you didn’t brave the dingy\u00a0bars, that $35 is just a lot to pay for a sandwich. Then comes the justification.\u00a0It comes with\u00a0pancetta, you tell\u00a0yourself. And a side salad. The bargaining: we saved on the vaporetto and will eat simply tomorrow. And then, as time continues to tick by, comes peaceful acceptance. The conscious mind \u2013 and minibar wine \u2013 steps in,\u00a0prepping the taste buds get ready for one damn fine sandwich.\u00a0$35 worth of damn good.\u00a0In crept the subconscious, hopeful but conflicted, inner belief systems pushed and pulled over the cost vs. need, economy vs. desire. We prickled with deep questions.<\/p>\n The sandwich arrived.<\/p>\n You study a $35 sandwich. It looked incredible. How would it taste? With that kind of sandwich in play, certain things cloud your memory, but I can tell you it tasted fantastic, like food magic plus pancetta. I remember the chicken on my tongue, a mealy tomato but\u00a0amazing ciabatta and the\u00a0fried egg\u00a0thrown in\u00a0Italian-style. Ah, sandwich, gone too soon. I remember it well, and\u00a0the wine and the monastery grounds outside. Beyond\u00a0the dark lagoon shimmered,\u00a0its\u00a0dark lumps for islands speckled with lights, the bright\u00a0domes\u00a0and\u00a0marinas of Venice\u00a0beyond.<\/p>\n Five years ago, in Venice\u00a0we bought a $35 sandwich.<\/p>\n Fine sandwich. Better memory.<\/p>\n![\"Slide3\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/robertmangeot.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/Slide31.jpg?resize=300%2C225&ssl=1\")
<\/a>Venetian splendor? Not yet. Santa Lucia Station offers nothing aptly labeled splendor.\u00a0Buses and vaporetti, you bet.\u00a0Pickpockets, sure. Cuisine options? Grim.<\/p>\n![\"Slide10\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/robertmangeot.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/Slide10.jpg?resize=300%2C225&ssl=1\")
<\/a>In Venice, food, tours, trinkets, everything is priced to extract Euro. We had stumbled–and not out of hunger–upon the one bargain in Venice. For \u20ac6.50 (a direct water taxi\u00a0was \u20ac100), the Number 1 takes you on\u00a0a leisurely cruise down a most extraordinary Main Street, the Grand Canal<\/a>. Traghetti<\/em> ferry passengers around\u00a0the gondolas snaking in and out. Centuries-old palazzi<\/em>\u00a0locked together, sinking arm-in-arm\u00a0into the lagoon that Venetian merchant barons sought to claim for themselves. By day it is stunning. At night, magical. \u20ac6.50 for a lifetime experience? Sold. If only hunger wasn’t wanting to drag us down along with the palaces.<\/p>\n![\"Slide6\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/robertmangeot.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/Slide61.jpg?resize=300%2C225&ssl=1\")
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<\/a>In 1131 San Clemente\u00a0served as\u00a0a base for pilgrims en route to the Holy Land. In 1432 it became a monastery, and since it has provided asylum for the devout, plague victims, the mentally ill, cats, and on that night us and our hungry bones.<\/p>\n
![\"Slide1\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/robertmangeot.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/10\/Slide11.jpg?resize=750%2C563&ssl=1\")
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