It has been twenty years since I gave my first English lesson. I was only 14 and we lived in the mountains surrounding the proud city of Málaga. I enjoyed it so much, that I seriously considered it as a future occupation. I was also interested in the European Union and its political manoeuvrings and I did part of my university course on the subject, along with two languages: French and Russian. So as I am now giving language training at the European Institutions, I can say that I have made it - I have arrived at the top of my profession; the pinnacle of my career.
The one thing I have learned in these two decades in pedagogy, with an estimation of 400 students who have taken my courses, is that every one of them is an individual with different learning needs, different habits in the classroom and different knowledge of one or other aspect of the language. The one thing they do have in common is that they fit a proscribed language level. But they are not school pupils where everyone learns together from day one. That's where the similarities end. Where one student may be good at grammar and theory but bad at speaking and writing, another one may be good at listening and reading but bad at grammar and theory. And that is why no one method can ever be applied in the classroom.
A certain international company based in the US giving language training goes one step further: it provides its trainers with manuals so that they never need their imagination ever again. The trainer is not allowed to use explanations and certainly not allowed to explain using graphs, lists or charts which show how the grammar of this language might work. If this wasn't enough, it then provides certain phrases per page in the manual that the trainer should spoonfeed the student with, e.g. "the photocopier doesn't work". Well hello! How in the name of sanity is the student then supposed to relate the negative form if he/she is not shown how it works in the first place? The student can know far more about grammar if a wider explanation is given concerning that point than just a poor lonely memory phrase.
Furthermore, the trainers at this establishment are told they will be docked bonus money if they deviate from the methods, or if anomalies are found in the progress of their clients. In other words, clients will not learn too quickly or the company will lose money, nor will they learn nothing or they will find alternative places to learn. Another striking aspect about this multinational is that people still go there to "learn". And the company keeps growing. This shows something about our tastes... In their localities they are the most expensive usually, and they pay the least. In Brussels for example they pay a pro-rata wage which on paper seems adequate, if you're called to work for the full amount of time. The reality is most trainers there earn about 36% of the average trainer's salary, due to being allotted very few hours. There is also a clause in their contracts stipulating that they cannot work for a competitor during this time either, something that everyone else is permitted to do.
Anyway, back to the methods:
One thing that has made my blood boil over the years is this "approach" word. Every language school has an "approach"; a way of delivering lessons in their own little bundle. What these people fail to realise is that each individual needs to be shown in a different way depending on their own abilities. Children until about 8 or 9 are able to assimilate languages pretty simply because their brain is still whole. But after then, the two lobes become ever more separate and this is where the senior school makes a great difference and also where it has got the balance right. People respond much better to an academic way of learning simply because it provides the student with rules and exceptions, tables and charts of grammar and vocabulary. Language learners of any age respond far more quickly to this because they had been doing it in senior school, and that is the method they are acquainted with.
This is not saying that everyone is like this, but as this method has withstood the test of time, it has a majority of supporters. If this is combined with some of the more realistic contemporary forms of learning, a win-win situation can only come from it. Sticking to the target language works for those above beginner level, and has to work if participant and trainer do not have a common tongue. But where they do, it would be wrong not to speed things up with a gentle nudge in the right direction as long as it does not become overbearing. Trainers, especially polyglots, should under no circumstances show off their language skills by translating. However, they should use their knowledge to provide clear explanations as to why rules are different between languages, where words come from, spelling and pronunciation differences and similarities. By simply telling the student this is how it is and that's all they need to know, you are cutting off the tentpegs of language memory and assimilation. By giving them a reason or an explanation you are making sure they can digest subtle differences far more easily than simply spoonfeeding the student with information.
However, my main aim in this entry is to tell you the most important word in language learning. The word which, if properly administered, can increase learning speed. That word is why. By answering it, you are opening up whole avenues of easily memorised words, grammar rules and spellings. For without an explanation, students have nothing to grip onto, no attachment to their own language (because let's face it, we all translate when learning languages). By giving that attachment, you are teaching the student to think outside their own language without knowing it and to detach him/herself from the mother tongue discreetly, almost clandestinely, whilst making them feel like you are giving them an easy and comfortable ride towards a higher level of understanding.
Most trainers usually enter a language training establishment with visions of smiling, happy students. They do not realise how disillusioning the experience can become if methods are forcibly applied when the trainer's own methods have been successful already. Especially as they know that applicant needs money. They can say and do what they want because at the end they pay you. But I say, do not let anyone bully you into accepting their "methods". Trainers do not work comfortably when they are not happy with the regime. It is a recipe for failure and simply has no place in the classroom. Be yourself; inspire; judge the student before applying the methods; don't allow pedagogical bigotry to spoil your profession. If they do want you to apply their methods, just agree - go along with what they say, and when they're not looking or listening (which is most of the time) carry on doing what you have always done! Your own methods are the best, whatever anyone says, and that includes the language schools.
Tuesday 25 September 2007
Thursday 13 September 2007
Immigration is good: but what about those already here?
European Commission Vice President Franco Frattini has been in Portugal this week, outlining his upcoming proposals for a "blue card" for skilled migrant workers who can come to work freely in the EU. On the other hand, the Vice President has been keen to be tough on employers who hire staff without a residence permit. This also needs re-evaluating.
There are many thousands, in fact many tens of thousands, already here. They could be doctors, drivers, economists, lecturers, botanists, geologists, camera operators, banking experts, translators, opticians and anyone else but they are instead cleaning floors, driving taxis, picking fruit, working in bars and restaurants, or just sitting in detention centres waiting for someone to finally say yes, they can stay, or no, their application is not strong enough. What about these people first? These are the ones who need immediate attention. These are the ones who should be filling our job market first.
I have an Australian friend, a lawyer, who came to Belgium to visit and decided to stay. She is highly qualified and has ten years' experience too. I took her to the city hall and they told her if she wanted to set up an independent practice she would need to either go back to Australia and apply from there, or declare her arrival date, get a police criminal clearance paper within 40 days from Australia and the country where she lived prior to arriving, China (which will be a nightmare), fill in a form in Dutch, which includes a section where she needs to write 300 words on why she wants to live here, and then she should wait nine months. Oh yes, she cannot leave the country. Surely she would be an asset to the economy. Why then must she go through all this administrative upheaval? And to think, she is even from a country with strong diplomatic ties to the EU. What must it be like to come from Moldova, Mozambique or Myanmar?
Why is the system set up in a way which encourages those with fewer scruples to take part in people trafficking? In fact, if you look more deeply into it, the system is set up to discriminate against those who genuinely come here to work or to escape persecution and favours the economic migrants and those interested purely in social security, benefits and a life of peace paid for by the taxes.
We should be advertising our vacant positions in foreign newspapers but at the same time matching jobs to those already here. Lots of migrants don't want to sit about doing nothing, but they have to, because they are unable to work whilst their paperwork is being looked at, and that can last a very long time indeed, including appeals, re-schedulings and new evidence, all which can mean the process must start all over again. This is a ridiculous waste of precious time, paper and talent. It also creates tension between those who have arrived and the local residents, who without the necessary knowledge of the immigrant's predicament, immediately place them in a negative light.
We should do more to drive away the people traffickers by making it easier to come and work in Europe, especially those with needed talents and qualifications. If you make it legally impossible for those who arrive unannounced to stay, whilst opening quota-driven employment centres in embassies and cultural centres abroad, people trafficking would be rendered useless, especially if the EU makes that clear to the appropriate people.
There are many thousands, in fact many tens of thousands, already here. They could be doctors, drivers, economists, lecturers, botanists, geologists, camera operators, banking experts, translators, opticians and anyone else but they are instead cleaning floors, driving taxis, picking fruit, working in bars and restaurants, or just sitting in detention centres waiting for someone to finally say yes, they can stay, or no, their application is not strong enough. What about these people first? These are the ones who need immediate attention. These are the ones who should be filling our job market first.
I have an Australian friend, a lawyer, who came to Belgium to visit and decided to stay. She is highly qualified and has ten years' experience too. I took her to the city hall and they told her if she wanted to set up an independent practice she would need to either go back to Australia and apply from there, or declare her arrival date, get a police criminal clearance paper within 40 days from Australia and the country where she lived prior to arriving, China (which will be a nightmare), fill in a form in Dutch, which includes a section where she needs to write 300 words on why she wants to live here, and then she should wait nine months. Oh yes, she cannot leave the country. Surely she would be an asset to the economy. Why then must she go through all this administrative upheaval? And to think, she is even from a country with strong diplomatic ties to the EU. What must it be like to come from Moldova, Mozambique or Myanmar?
Why is the system set up in a way which encourages those with fewer scruples to take part in people trafficking? In fact, if you look more deeply into it, the system is set up to discriminate against those who genuinely come here to work or to escape persecution and favours the economic migrants and those interested purely in social security, benefits and a life of peace paid for by the taxes.
We should be advertising our vacant positions in foreign newspapers but at the same time matching jobs to those already here. Lots of migrants don't want to sit about doing nothing, but they have to, because they are unable to work whilst their paperwork is being looked at, and that can last a very long time indeed, including appeals, re-schedulings and new evidence, all which can mean the process must start all over again. This is a ridiculous waste of precious time, paper and talent. It also creates tension between those who have arrived and the local residents, who without the necessary knowledge of the immigrant's predicament, immediately place them in a negative light.
We should do more to drive away the people traffickers by making it easier to come and work in Europe, especially those with needed talents and qualifications. If you make it legally impossible for those who arrive unannounced to stay, whilst opening quota-driven employment centres in embassies and cultural centres abroad, people trafficking would be rendered useless, especially if the EU makes that clear to the appropriate people.
Thursday 6 September 2007
Remarkable deaths
This week has seen three stories in the press concerning three totally separate yet remarkable people who died in circumstances distinct from each other. But all three are worthy of mentioning simply because of the uplifting stories behind their deaths.
Rhys Jones
In the city of Liverpool this week, mourners have been paying their last respects to the boy who was shot dead by a hooded man riding a BMX bike through the area of Croxteth Park. Rhys was a supporter of Everton FC and mad about his football. It has shocked the community of Liverpool and brought about a collective period of inner reflection in the city. In a sign of solidarity, Liverpool FC, the deadly rivals of Rhys's beloved team, invited his parents to Anfield on match day where he received a minute's applause from the crowd, following the playing of the Everton theme tune. An Everton fan getting a minute's applause at Liverpool FC is striking enough, but thousands of people came to his funeral where the parents asked everyone to dress in bright colours. Most put on their football colours to attend the service at Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral, where members of Everton's first team were also present.
This collective mass of solidarity has made a mockery of those who would turn to crime for their kicks. The far larger amount of decent people come out against violent crime through this type of collective action, yet still those who enjoy criminal lives do not listen. Nevertheless, decent folk will always outnumber the bad eggs.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/merseyside/6980996.stm
Jane Tomlinson
Across the Pennines in Leeds, Jane Tomlinson had a seven-year battle with breast cancer. Nothing remarkable so far. Except that seven years earlier, she was given just six months to live. I haven't finished yet though. Jane didn't just sit down awaiting the Big Day: she decided to make the most of her time left on this planet by raising money for charity. By running marathons, half-marathons, triathlons and even the Iron Man, where she became the first cancer patient ever to complete it. She set about doing other such things, like spending 63 days crossing the United States from San Francisco to New York City on a bike. After her second London Marathon, she went back to work as a radiographer. That was only days after cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats. She won some of the highest awards - BBC Sports Personality of the Year Helen Rollason Award for outstanding bravery, the Sunday Times Sportswoman of the Year, and was awarded a CBE in the Queen's Birthday Honours this year.
Jane always thought she was an ordinary person but the truth is she brought happiness to a lot of people through her charity work. Even near the end, in June of this year, she organised a 10km road race in her home city of Leeds. Such was her appeal, the race was attended by about ten thousand competitors. She was too ill to race herself then, but she came along and started the event, watching from a raised platform. Despite Jane Tomlinson's worry that it would not be successful, the event is set to become a permanent fixture in the city.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/2585103.stm
Luciano Pavarotti
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore e di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
Solo quando la luce splenderà,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò fremente!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia!
Il nome suo nessun saprà
E noi dovremo, ahimè, morir!
Il principe ignoto
Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate stelle!
All'alba vincerò!
It is hard to find out that someone who gave you one of the most memorable moments of your life is no longer, but Luciano Pavarotti was indeed a member of that list for me. When I was sixteen and enjoyed the music of the time, I was still drawn to the haunting voice and the larger-than-life personality of Luciano Pavarotti. The summer of the World Cup in Italy in 1990 was one of the longest, which I spent with my visiting uncle and his opera music. The BBC had made Nessun Dorma its theme tune for the tournament and by the end of the first round I was knew the lyrics, as you see above. The BBC's theme tune became the tournament's anthem not just in the UK, so when the Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Domingo and Carreras) said they were going to put on a show the night before the final, the whole family tuned in to watch the show. In fact, I think there were just as many viewers for that event as for the final. And what an event it was, in the floodlit ruins of old Rome.
Pavarotti was born in Modena in humble surroundings but his talent for singing meant his future was secure. His father had a talent for singing too, but turned down the chance due to stage fright, something which his son definitely did not have. In his life, he visited all corners of the planet bringing opera to the people. He got his money from the toffee-nosed upper class, but he did not forget ordinary folk. He was involved in humanitarian work in Bosnia, Kosovo, Guatemala, Armenia and Iraq, and even crashed a U2 concert in Dublin to ask the band to play at his annual "Pavarotti and Friends" charity event in his home town. He set up a music centre in Mostar, Bosnia, specifically to bring about peace through music and the United Nations made him a Messenger of Peace, involving tackling child exploitation, poverty and HIV/AIDS.
He had his share of scandals, including leaving his wife of 35 years for another, younger woman, and was in all but name denounced by the Italian people for tax irregularities. However, despite this backdrop he remained a person of the people, a showman and a double world record holder - 165 curtain calls being one (!!!) and the biggest selling classical record of all time. Although the estimated crowd of half a million in New York for a concert in 1993 is probably also a record.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/1581651.stm
Three remarkable people, three reasons why the world is a sadder place today.
May they rest in peace.
Rhys Jones
In the city of Liverpool this week, mourners have been paying their last respects to the boy who was shot dead by a hooded man riding a BMX bike through the area of Croxteth Park. Rhys was a supporter of Everton FC and mad about his football. It has shocked the community of Liverpool and brought about a collective period of inner reflection in the city. In a sign of solidarity, Liverpool FC, the deadly rivals of Rhys's beloved team, invited his parents to Anfield on match day where he received a minute's applause from the crowd, following the playing of the Everton theme tune. An Everton fan getting a minute's applause at Liverpool FC is striking enough, but thousands of people came to his funeral where the parents asked everyone to dress in bright colours. Most put on their football colours to attend the service at Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral, where members of Everton's first team were also present.
This collective mass of solidarity has made a mockery of those who would turn to crime for their kicks. The far larger amount of decent people come out against violent crime through this type of collective action, yet still those who enjoy criminal lives do not listen. Nevertheless, decent folk will always outnumber the bad eggs.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/merseyside/6980996.stm
Jane Tomlinson
Across the Pennines in Leeds, Jane Tomlinson had a seven-year battle with breast cancer. Nothing remarkable so far. Except that seven years earlier, she was given just six months to live. I haven't finished yet though. Jane didn't just sit down awaiting the Big Day: she decided to make the most of her time left on this planet by raising money for charity. By running marathons, half-marathons, triathlons and even the Iron Man, where she became the first cancer patient ever to complete it. She set about doing other such things, like spending 63 days crossing the United States from San Francisco to New York City on a bike. After her second London Marathon, she went back to work as a radiographer. That was only days after cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats. She won some of the highest awards - BBC Sports Personality of the Year Helen Rollason Award for outstanding bravery, the Sunday Times Sportswoman of the Year, and was awarded a CBE in the Queen's Birthday Honours this year.
Jane always thought she was an ordinary person but the truth is she brought happiness to a lot of people through her charity work. Even near the end, in June of this year, she organised a 10km road race in her home city of Leeds. Such was her appeal, the race was attended by about ten thousand competitors. She was too ill to race herself then, but she came along and started the event, watching from a raised platform. Despite Jane Tomlinson's worry that it would not be successful, the event is set to become a permanent fixture in the city.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/2585103.stm
Luciano Pavarotti
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore e di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
Solo quando la luce splenderà,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò fremente!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia!
Il nome suo nessun saprà
E noi dovremo, ahimè, morir!
Il principe ignoto
Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate stelle!
All'alba vincerò!
It is hard to find out that someone who gave you one of the most memorable moments of your life is no longer, but Luciano Pavarotti was indeed a member of that list for me. When I was sixteen and enjoyed the music of the time, I was still drawn to the haunting voice and the larger-than-life personality of Luciano Pavarotti. The summer of the World Cup in Italy in 1990 was one of the longest, which I spent with my visiting uncle and his opera music. The BBC had made Nessun Dorma its theme tune for the tournament and by the end of the first round I was knew the lyrics, as you see above. The BBC's theme tune became the tournament's anthem not just in the UK, so when the Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Domingo and Carreras) said they were going to put on a show the night before the final, the whole family tuned in to watch the show. In fact, I think there were just as many viewers for that event as for the final. And what an event it was, in the floodlit ruins of old Rome.
Pavarotti was born in Modena in humble surroundings but his talent for singing meant his future was secure. His father had a talent for singing too, but turned down the chance due to stage fright, something which his son definitely did not have. In his life, he visited all corners of the planet bringing opera to the people. He got his money from the toffee-nosed upper class, but he did not forget ordinary folk. He was involved in humanitarian work in Bosnia, Kosovo, Guatemala, Armenia and Iraq, and even crashed a U2 concert in Dublin to ask the band to play at his annual "Pavarotti and Friends" charity event in his home town. He set up a music centre in Mostar, Bosnia, specifically to bring about peace through music and the United Nations made him a Messenger of Peace, involving tackling child exploitation, poverty and HIV/AIDS.
He had his share of scandals, including leaving his wife of 35 years for another, younger woman, and was in all but name denounced by the Italian people for tax irregularities. However, despite this backdrop he remained a person of the people, a showman and a double world record holder - 165 curtain calls being one (!!!) and the biggest selling classical record of all time. Although the estimated crowd of half a million in New York for a concert in 1993 is probably also a record.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/1581651.stm
Three remarkable people, three reasons why the world is a sadder place today.
May they rest in peace.
Saturday 1 September 2007
Greetings from La Serenissima
So I haven’t written much recently… I’ve been pretty busy this summer giving intensive courses and the weather was so bad I didn’t mind too much. However I’ve got a month off so I decided to go to Venice for a while and do some work on my book. That hasn’t worked either as the person I have come with doesn’t have the ability to walk into a museum alone so I have to go everywhere. Still, there’s a lot to see here if you don’t mind the appalling manners of the tourists. I kind of sympathise with the Venetians – it must be quite a frustrating life coming out of your own house and being swept away by a group of foreigners. But Venetians are a noble race of people and wonderfully tolerant.
I knew it was going to be special when I stepped off the airplane and even before going through to luggage collection smelled the invisible yet overpowering aroma of mother’s cooking. That for me was a special moment – just getting off the plane and the “Welcome to Italy” sign had been replaced with the smell of home cooking.
I have many Italian students and I could never understand why they were so naïve about food. Many of them have barely tried food from outside Italy, let alone great cuisines like Chinese, Indian and northern European. So I wanted to find out why. This was another reason for my trip here, to see why Italians are such gastro-snobs. Yet having spent eight days here, I have come to appreciate that they might have a point. It is of course no reason to avoid other cuisines, and I still find it such a shame to be so parochial in your food tastes, but you can actually understand why.
When you see the food in the shops, when you see the perfection of the presentation of the meal on the plate before you, it really puts some other places to shame. And furthermore, they hardly import. All the fruit is Mediterranean, all the meat is local, and all the vegetables are from neighbouring regions. And therefore the milk tastes not of thickened water but of milk, the fish tastes not of ammonia but of fish, the red peppers taste of red peppers, not of preservative. The meat is the same size when you take it out of the pan as when it was dropped in there, the wine fills your nostrils as much as it wets your mouth, and even the bread has a flavour and consistency to it superior to our stiff and hole-ridden baguettes. Over all, everything tastes like it should. For that reason I can’t understand why we have allowed our food standards to deteriorate simply for cheapness and rapidity of sale.
http://www.goslitski.net/template.cfm?action=gastronomy
So what are the essential tips for Venice?
Firstly, don’t be hypnotised by the Venice Card they sell first-time visitors over the Net for about 100 euro. Work out where you’re going to go and entry prices and compare it to what reductions or free entries you might get with the card. The first rule of a holiday is: never plan!
Secondly, obey local habits and try to integrate – you’ll be treated like a local then: walk on the right hand side of the narrow streets and alleys, learn some Italian, wear decent clothes, don’t stand on the bridges ogling your map, and don’t drop litter.
Thirdly, remember this is Italy. I can’t count the amount of people I saw buying fast food but to me that would be an insult. Would you go to Belgium and drink Heineken? No. Well in Italy you would do well to try as much of the local produce as you can. But don’t follow guide book suggestions as they’re mostly paid by the establishments to advertise. We came across a group of French schoolchildren who were hanging round the embankment at the Fondamenta Nova, chatting and running about. It was evident their teachers had let them loose for the evening to explore the city and they had just decided to encamp themselves on the promenade. But it got worse. The owner of the trattoria where we were said they had been there all day. Imagine going to a city like Venice and only sitting on the bank chatting to the same people who you can see every day of the year...? And then four of them said they were going off to look for a McDonald's. I choked on an olive.
On this note though I would like to point out one particular Trattoria called Al Vecio Portal, close to San Zaccaria. The garden out back is serene and gets nice and dark at night, but let’s move away from the cliché stuff and concentrate on the menu. It’s not a very big menu, but that’s because they do it with love. Any menu which has more than three pages of food is offering too much to be of any quality. The fish is the greatest thing on the menu and the waiter fillets it in front of you. I watched him doing it in the garden at ten at night on Friday. Now that’d turn a lot of women on: imagine being able to say you can de-bone a fish in the dark… A couple of other things on the menu to point out are the rustic starter and the fragola: a creamy fruit dish which will just precipitate those “desires” one gets after dinner in a place like Venice.
My favourite part of Venice are the less touristy areas around the Arsenale and Cannaregio. There are some wonderful places to sit day or night and get away from the tourists, who insist on conglomerating in the area between the Rialto Bridge and St Mark’s Square. I would like to point you in the direction of the Church of Madonna dell'Orto, and close by is the church of Sant'Alvise, which both have more history that entire Belgian towns. Tintoretto is buried in one of the churches - I won't tell you which, because I'd hope you'd visit both, but when you look around that particular church, it makes you wonder about the dedication and discipline of the artists of that time.
A couple of days ago I visited the Doge’s Palace, expecting a collection of dusty old relics and some paintings. That’s what was there, but a thousand times more glorious. The most overwhelming sensations of my life took place in the Notre Dame in Paris, St Paul’s Cathedral in London, Rouen Cathedral and the Thistle Chapel in Edinburgh, but I got the mini-shakes in the Sala del Maggio Consiglio in the Doge’s Palace. It is enormous. One of the biggest rooms in the world, it is 54 metres long and about 25 metres wide. You could hold a cricket match in there. And the works of art on the walls were breathtaking. As for the rest of the palace, be careful of the vampires in curators’ outfits circling round you, whose only job it seems, is to stop you from taking photos, so that we spend more money in their shop. Well I can tell you no bespectacled curator is going to stop me from taking home a photo of a Tintoretto masterpiece. I held my camera round my neck and took photos from chest height. Luckily my sense of orientation is passable, so I got some pretty good ones in there. If you do intend going to the Doge’s Palace, get your tickets in advance or you can wait a good hour to get in. A Venice Pass is handy in this instance.
One thing about Venice is the parochial feel you get from living in a city on an island. OK, there are lots of tourists but they go away after a few days, never to return. The side streets and squares where local people live are full of life at certain times of the day, then suddenly they’re sweeping up – usually about three in the afternoon – ready for siesta. This place is simply so internationally known and yet it is just like any other city where people live on top of each other. The kids play football against the walls of the squares, the parents sit peacefully sipping latte macchiato knowing someone is not going to get away from the scene so quickly with their children, and the streets are positively thick with the smell of nonna’s cooking.
I took a trip to Murano, an island not far from Venice and went round the shops looking at the various glass objects for sale. It is a nice island for visiting but forget buying anything more than earrings or a small vase unless you’ve emptied the contents of your savings account. Not far from there is the island of San Michele, where Venice’s dead are interred. Some very interesting people are buried there too – Sir Ashley Clarke, British Ambassador to Italy in the fifties and sixties and founder of the Venice In Peril fund, Ezra Pound, Igor Stravinsky and Joseph Brodsky. San Michele’s cemetery is divided up into denominations, and the Protestant part (called "accattolico" - acatholic - by the cemetery staff) is the most neglected. A shame really, as the people in there are the most interesting, and it’s probably the most visited section.
In any case, Venice is really worth a visit if you like good food, architecture, walking, art, boats, clothes, jewellery and photography. I have taken more than a thousand photos here and I’m sure some of them will be found in my upcoming exhibition in the autumn and on my website. I'm off to Prague on Monday but I will be back on Wednesday and then I promise to write more often.
I knew it was going to be special when I stepped off the airplane and even before going through to luggage collection smelled the invisible yet overpowering aroma of mother’s cooking. That for me was a special moment – just getting off the plane and the “Welcome to Italy” sign had been replaced with the smell of home cooking.
I have many Italian students and I could never understand why they were so naïve about food. Many of them have barely tried food from outside Italy, let alone great cuisines like Chinese, Indian and northern European. So I wanted to find out why. This was another reason for my trip here, to see why Italians are such gastro-snobs. Yet having spent eight days here, I have come to appreciate that they might have a point. It is of course no reason to avoid other cuisines, and I still find it such a shame to be so parochial in your food tastes, but you can actually understand why.
When you see the food in the shops, when you see the perfection of the presentation of the meal on the plate before you, it really puts some other places to shame. And furthermore, they hardly import. All the fruit is Mediterranean, all the meat is local, and all the vegetables are from neighbouring regions. And therefore the milk tastes not of thickened water but of milk, the fish tastes not of ammonia but of fish, the red peppers taste of red peppers, not of preservative. The meat is the same size when you take it out of the pan as when it was dropped in there, the wine fills your nostrils as much as it wets your mouth, and even the bread has a flavour and consistency to it superior to our stiff and hole-ridden baguettes. Over all, everything tastes like it should. For that reason I can’t understand why we have allowed our food standards to deteriorate simply for cheapness and rapidity of sale.
http://www.goslitski.net/template.cfm?action=gastronomy
So what are the essential tips for Venice?
Firstly, don’t be hypnotised by the Venice Card they sell first-time visitors over the Net for about 100 euro. Work out where you’re going to go and entry prices and compare it to what reductions or free entries you might get with the card. The first rule of a holiday is: never plan!
Secondly, obey local habits and try to integrate – you’ll be treated like a local then: walk on the right hand side of the narrow streets and alleys, learn some Italian, wear decent clothes, don’t stand on the bridges ogling your map, and don’t drop litter.
Thirdly, remember this is Italy. I can’t count the amount of people I saw buying fast food but to me that would be an insult. Would you go to Belgium and drink Heineken? No. Well in Italy you would do well to try as much of the local produce as you can. But don’t follow guide book suggestions as they’re mostly paid by the establishments to advertise. We came across a group of French schoolchildren who were hanging round the embankment at the Fondamenta Nova, chatting and running about. It was evident their teachers had let them loose for the evening to explore the city and they had just decided to encamp themselves on the promenade. But it got worse. The owner of the trattoria where we were said they had been there all day. Imagine going to a city like Venice and only sitting on the bank chatting to the same people who you can see every day of the year...? And then four of them said they were going off to look for a McDonald's. I choked on an olive.
On this note though I would like to point out one particular Trattoria called Al Vecio Portal, close to San Zaccaria. The garden out back is serene and gets nice and dark at night, but let’s move away from the cliché stuff and concentrate on the menu. It’s not a very big menu, but that’s because they do it with love. Any menu which has more than three pages of food is offering too much to be of any quality. The fish is the greatest thing on the menu and the waiter fillets it in front of you. I watched him doing it in the garden at ten at night on Friday. Now that’d turn a lot of women on: imagine being able to say you can de-bone a fish in the dark… A couple of other things on the menu to point out are the rustic starter and the fragola: a creamy fruit dish which will just precipitate those “desires” one gets after dinner in a place like Venice.
My favourite part of Venice are the less touristy areas around the Arsenale and Cannaregio. There are some wonderful places to sit day or night and get away from the tourists, who insist on conglomerating in the area between the Rialto Bridge and St Mark’s Square. I would like to point you in the direction of the Church of Madonna dell'Orto, and close by is the church of Sant'Alvise, which both have more history that entire Belgian towns. Tintoretto is buried in one of the churches - I won't tell you which, because I'd hope you'd visit both, but when you look around that particular church, it makes you wonder about the dedication and discipline of the artists of that time.
A couple of days ago I visited the Doge’s Palace, expecting a collection of dusty old relics and some paintings. That’s what was there, but a thousand times more glorious. The most overwhelming sensations of my life took place in the Notre Dame in Paris, St Paul’s Cathedral in London, Rouen Cathedral and the Thistle Chapel in Edinburgh, but I got the mini-shakes in the Sala del Maggio Consiglio in the Doge’s Palace. It is enormous. One of the biggest rooms in the world, it is 54 metres long and about 25 metres wide. You could hold a cricket match in there. And the works of art on the walls were breathtaking. As for the rest of the palace, be careful of the vampires in curators’ outfits circling round you, whose only job it seems, is to stop you from taking photos, so that we spend more money in their shop. Well I can tell you no bespectacled curator is going to stop me from taking home a photo of a Tintoretto masterpiece. I held my camera round my neck and took photos from chest height. Luckily my sense of orientation is passable, so I got some pretty good ones in there. If you do intend going to the Doge’s Palace, get your tickets in advance or you can wait a good hour to get in. A Venice Pass is handy in this instance.
One thing about Venice is the parochial feel you get from living in a city on an island. OK, there are lots of tourists but they go away after a few days, never to return. The side streets and squares where local people live are full of life at certain times of the day, then suddenly they’re sweeping up – usually about three in the afternoon – ready for siesta. This place is simply so internationally known and yet it is just like any other city where people live on top of each other. The kids play football against the walls of the squares, the parents sit peacefully sipping latte macchiato knowing someone is not going to get away from the scene so quickly with their children, and the streets are positively thick with the smell of nonna’s cooking.
I took a trip to Murano, an island not far from Venice and went round the shops looking at the various glass objects for sale. It is a nice island for visiting but forget buying anything more than earrings or a small vase unless you’ve emptied the contents of your savings account. Not far from there is the island of San Michele, where Venice’s dead are interred. Some very interesting people are buried there too – Sir Ashley Clarke, British Ambassador to Italy in the fifties and sixties and founder of the Venice In Peril fund, Ezra Pound, Igor Stravinsky and Joseph Brodsky. San Michele’s cemetery is divided up into denominations, and the Protestant part (called "accattolico" - acatholic - by the cemetery staff) is the most neglected. A shame really, as the people in there are the most interesting, and it’s probably the most visited section.
In any case, Venice is really worth a visit if you like good food, architecture, walking, art, boats, clothes, jewellery and photography. I have taken more than a thousand photos here and I’m sure some of them will be found in my upcoming exhibition in the autumn and on my website. I'm off to Prague on Monday but I will be back on Wednesday and then I promise to write more often.
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