This first section is a brief explanation of my Italy blog posts, which were inspired by my 2-week trip to Italy in May, 2025. Feel free to skip this section if you’ve read it before.
Dear Reader, If you read my Italy posts in the order in which they’ve come out, it may seem as though we hopped back and forth all over the country, but I have decided not to write these posts sequentially. I want to write about the things that interest me most, as the spirit moves me. For some topics, I may even combine cities. I hope that by doing so, you’ll find it a lot more interesting than if I just give you a tedious day by day description of our itinerary, as if I were your Aunt Mabel forcing you to sit down and watch all her Super 8 films of the family road trip to Niagara Falls from 1966.
If you have any questions, comments or suggestions about how I’m approaching this travelogue-within-a-blog, please let me know in the comments below!
Of all my posts about our Italy trip, this will be the last one I do about Venice. (There will be others about Italy, but nothing further about our visit to this fair city.) It’s kind of bittersweet. It’s like leaving that place, which I loved so much, all over again.
As I have mentioned before, a lot of the most popular venues in Italy require advanced reservations these days. St. Mark’s Basilica is no exception. I started making these reservations about 6 months in advance, and didn’t encounter many problems, but when I tried to make the reservations for St. Mark’s, it kept saying that all the dates we’d be in Venice were unavailable. Huh. That wasn’t the case for the Doge’s Palace, right next door, and tourists usually made them a two-fer.
What was going on? I checked, and while the Basilica was undergoing renovations to part of its façade, it was not closed to the public. I kept going back to the site, day after day, in hopes of a change of status. That’s when I noticed a pattern. Every night at 11pm, Venice time, tickets would suddenly become available for the next day only.
Okay. Well, we’d have to wait until we arrived and hope for the best. To tell you that this freaked out my autistic desire to have everything planned well in advance is putting it mildly. We’d have to remember to stay up and get online on the worst possible night of our trip.
It would be the night we had arrived in Italy, after 18 hours of travel from our home airport to the Venice one, and that didn’t even include the time it took to get to our lodging via bus, then vaporetto. We’d be exhausted, after having traveled Eastward through 9 time zones. What if I forgot?
Despite our brain fog, we remembered, and 15 minutes prior, Dear Husband (bless him, because I was practically incoherent) sat up and got online. Unfortunately, the connection was as slow as molasses at our AirBnB, and we knew that there were probably hundreds of other people, awake, all over town, hoping to make the same reservations. And our reservations had to be within a small timeframe in order to dovetail with our Doge Palace reservations, so that added another layer of complexity and anxiety to the mix.
We watched slot after slot disappear as the website’s “reserve” button absolutely refused to wake up and realize DH was trying to get its attention. (Tap, tap, tap. Hello! Anybody home?) But finally, whew! He did it. I don’t even remember him logging out. I was sound asleep, knowing full well I’d have to be up and ready to go in 7 hours if we wanted to do everything we planned to do.
If the website designer for the basilica ever reads this, your reservation system SUCKS!!!!
But when all was said and done, the next day it was clear to me that all that hassle was worth it, because there we were, on our first full day in Italy, walking into the most ornate and spectacular church I had ever seen in my life. Even without knowing a thing about the place, it was awe-inspiring. The mosaics, the floor tiles, the jewels.
If you ever go anywhere in Europe, I strongly urge you to download the free Rick Steves Audio Europe phone app, and make sure you’ve uploaded the venues you’ll be visiting that day and have brought along a set of earphones. We used this app a lot. It was like having him walking right next to us and telling us everything we needed to know about what we were seeing in real time. (I also highly recommend his guidebooks.)
The only problem that we had with this particular tour with Rick is that he kept mentioning parts of the church for reference. “Turn toward the narthex,” or the nave or the transept or the chapel… and I don’t know my narthex from my nave. So I got a little lost and would have to back up and repeat things. Learn your cathedral anatomy, dear reader. It will come in handy.
To say the place was packed was putting it mildly. It happened to be the day that Pope Leo XIV began his papacy. The first American pope. So even though early May is typically shoulder season in Italy, there were more people around than usual. (Not everyone could be in Rome for that auspicious day, you know.) I was glad we’d not be in Rome for another 9 days, so hopefully some of that pope-mania would die down by then. Even so, we did experience some of the ripple effects during our entire trip.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. The basilica. The first church on this site was built in the year 826, to house the body of St. Mark. Well, everything but his head. That never left Alexandria.
Let me back up, because there’s a lot that’s hinky about the history of St. Mark’s relics. First of all, you have to take the authenticity of every relic with a grain of salt. It’s not like there’s a well-documented chain of evidence to authenticate these things, and of course, as the centuries roll by, the hearsay gets even less reliable. But, for simplicity’s sake, let’s assume that all the bones I mention from here on out actually belong to St. Mark, and that St. Mark is actually the guy who wrote that particular book of the bible, despite pretty solid evidence to the contrary. Does it really matter, after all? Religion is all about faith. (Until wars break out, anyway.) And if they needed these old bones as an excuse to build a spectacular basilica like this, then the bones are as saintly as they come, as far as I’m concerned.
So, what’s the big deal about this particular guy? Mark was born in Cyrene, in what is Libya today. Alexandria is in Egypt today. But at the time of Mark’s birth, around 12 AD, they were both a part of the Roman Empire. Mark is believed to have founded the Coptic Church in Alexandria, and as such he is considered to be the founder of Christianity in Africa.
Mark traveled quite a bit of the Roman Empire, evangelizing, but eventually, he returned to Alexandria, his first religious home. But the pagans of Alexandria were unhappy with his efforts to turn the people away from their pantheon of gods, and in 68 AD, when he was 56 years old, they tied a rope around his neck and dragged him through the streets until he was dead. The pagans intended to burn his body after that, but miraculously, a storm blew in and prevented the necessary fire.
The Christians recovered his body, which they buried in a cave beneath the church that he founded. You’d think that the whole “rest in peace” thing would apply to saints even more than to the rest of us, because you’d think they’d have earned it. But apparently not in Mark’s case, at least, because here’s where it gets even more weird.
From what I can piece together (the story varies, so I’m taking what sounds like the most plausible route), he did rest there, apparently intact, until 828 AD. Then a fleet of 10 Venetian merchant vessels sought shelter in the Alexandrian port during a bad storm. (Of course they were not there to trade with the people of Alexandria. Shame on you for even thinking that! Pope Leo V had forbidden any commercial contact with the Muslims. It’s just that they happened to be in the neighborhood when the storm hit, and what’s a sailor to do?)
They seem to have been there for many days (that must have been quite a storm) so two of the more devout Venetian merchants went daily to St. Mark’s church to pray at his tomb. They met a priest and a monk who were worried about the dwindling congregation, and the persecution thereof, under the current Islamic rule. They told the merchants that the Caliph ordered the demolition of the church so that the building materials could be used for new mosques. So a plan was hatched to safely remove Saint Mark’s body to Venice.
First, they unwrapped St. Mark’s body from its shroud, and wrapped the shroud on the remains of St. Claudia instead, in order to avoid suspicion. (And I find it rather frustrating that I find nothing further on St. Claudia, other than the fact that she was considered “less exalted”, which I suppose they used as an excuse for saving St. Mark and leaving her behind. But which St. Claudia was she? I’ve found several, but none seem to have been in Alexandria. And what became of her remains afterward? As with so many other women in history, she seems to have taken one for the team, and then quietly exited stage right. And that bugs me more than a little.)
Meanwhile, the merchants placed St. Mark’s body in a pork barrel, knowing that the Muslims, who were repulsed by pork, would not inspect it very closely. And they were right. After the ships set sail, it is said that St. Mark conveniently showed his approval of this relocation by somehow warning the sleeping sailors when they approached a really dangerous stretch of coast.
But get this: They didn’t bring his head with his body. I wish I could tell you why. Between that mystery and the mystery of St. Claudia, I spent about 6 hours fruitlessly searching the internet for clues. But unlike Claudia’s remains, Mark’s skull is still rather high profile. It stayed where the entire body had originally been buried.
That old church is long gone, but in its place stands a church named after him, Saint Mark’s Coptic Orthodox Cathedral. The skull is housed there, and gets trotted out every year on the commemoration of the consecration of that church. I wonder how St. Mark feels about that. Personally, if I had the type of burial where my bones still existed after centuries, I’d prefer them all to at least share the same zip code.
So, let’s leave Mark’s skull to its own devices and get back to his body, in Venice. The Venetians were thrilled to have it, because up to that point, their patron saint had been St. Theodore, a fourth-century Roman soldier who suffered martyrdom in the East after refusing to worship the pagan gods. That was good enough for old Venice, one supposes, but by 828, the Venetians were getting more ambitious. They wanted their patron saint to be an apostle, and to do that, they needed some serious apostolic remains.
Mark never met Christ, but he was supposedly one of the most important preachers of Christianity in the first century, and he was baptized by St. Peter, whom he followed to Rome. (The problem with all of this, of course, is that most of the evidence of Mark’s exalted life comes from writings that occurred long after (as in, centuries in some cases) his death. And one legend about him was that he had been a bishop in nearby Aquileia, not far from Venice, and at one point, while traveling, he stopped at the very islands that are now Venice, and an angel spoke to him and told him that his body would rest there. But he must have thought he still had some time, because he still went to Alexandria to found his church.
Well, that was enough for the Venetians! They were in need of an apostle. The body was now in hand. An angel had foretold his arrival. So they kicked poor St. Theodore to the curb.
Mark was stored in the Doge’s Palace for 4 years until the church they built for him was completed. Sadly, the first church later burned and was replaced by a second in 976 and lasted less than 100 years. Then, in a fit of Venetian Civic pride, they built the current church in 1063, and consecrated it in 1094.
Funny story about the building of this last church, though. During its construction, St. Mark’s body was hidden to prevent theft, and only a few people knew where it had been placed. By the time construction was complete, everyone had forgotten where they had put it. (Don’t you just hate when that happens?) The entire city cried and prayed about it, but it was nowhere to be found.
Have no fear, though, because St. Mark himself came to the rescue. In one version of the story, one day, the doge, the bishop, the nobles and several others were gathered in the basilica, and St. Mark extended an arm from a pillar, pointing to his remains. The church was filled with a very delicate perfume. In another version, after three days of fasting and prayer, an earthquake breaks open a pillar, revealing the body, which in later variations reaches out to the pious Venetians.
(Shame on you for thinking that it’s more likely that another body was conveniently produced to avoid a citywide riot. That would be a very irreverent thing to do. Have a little faith.)
One last note about St. Mark’s relics before we return our focus to the gorgeous church that was built to house him. In 1968, to commemorate 1900 years since St. Mark was martyred in Alexandria, Pope Cyril VI of Alexandria, the 116th Coptic Pope, sent a delegation to the Vatican. There Pope Paul VI, the 266th pope of the Roman Catholic Church, returned some of his relics to the delegation.
But what relics were returned to the land from whence they came? Well, the Cardinal of Venice provided some of the remains for the pope to give them. A tiny piece of bone. That’s all. The rest would remain in Venice. None of the sources I found make any mention of what an insult that was to the delegation. Perhaps they weren’t expecting more than that, or perhaps they handled it better than I would have. But I am insulted on their behalf.
That tiny piece of bone is now housed in Saint Mark’s Coptic Orthodox Cathedral in Cairo, where, as you can see from these images, Pope Tawadros II treats it with the great reverence it finally deserves. They have it housed in a gorgeous shrine with stunning artwork. It is a shrine worthy of an entire body. I wonder if the sliver of bone in Cairo has ever had a homecoming with the Skull in Alexandria.
I know. Much of this has little to do with the basilica, but it was the catalyst for its existence. And I think it’s a fascinating story. Back to the basilica.
The basilica being located right next to the Doge’s Palace was no coincidence, as it was considered the private chapel of the doge. As such, the common people had very limited access to this ornate structure. Services were reserved for the elite. I can’t imagine seeing such an opulent place and never being able to peek inside. Especially if you believed miracles had occurred there, and your patron saint was inside.
The building has been renovated and embellished over time, but at first it was shockingly plain compared to what you see today. There were no mosaics or paintings. It was a brick structure, and the only interior adornments were the pillars and the latticed altar screens. The exterior was also brick, but it was livened up by the shape of the architecture. Here’s an artist’s rendering of what it must have looked like at first.
A lot of its precious stones and rare marble were added in the 13th century, and a lot of its columns, reliefs, and sculptures were stripped from churches, palaces and monuments in Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade (1202-1204). That includes the 4 amazing bronze horses that were placed over the entryway. They are the only equestrian team of horse sculptures in the world to survive from the classical age. The originals are now housed inside, and replicas are out in the wind and weather.
When you walk into the basilica, the first thing that hits you, of course, are the shining, golden mosaics. It’s really hard to take your eyes off them. I won’t get into what the images portray here. There are hundreds of websites out there where people with more expertise than I describe those things in detail if you want a deeper dive. I’ll just show you some of the miraculous artistic results here.
And when you can drag your eyes downward, the many carvings, sculptures, ornate furniture and complex architectural embellishments are impressive as well.
And the floor! Oh! The floor!
The Pala d’Oro, or Golden Altarpiece, is considered one of the most impressive works of Byzantine enamel. It was installed in the high altar in 1105. It is cloisonne enamel on sheet gold, encrusted with pearls and precious stones. It’s the only intact example of large size Gothic goldsmith’s art in the world.
I’m not going to lie. I was reluctant to leave that place. But we had many other wonderful things to see in Venice. But before taking our leave completely, we wandered around outside as Rick Steves whispered in our ears about the façade, too.
At the risk of sounding cliché, pictures don’t do this place justice. But before I share a compilation of all the videos DH took of the place, I will point out one fascinating thing that people often fail to mention, about it: Due to Venice’s sinking, and thousands of years of humans walking back and forth, the widest expanse of marble floor in the basilica has significant waves in it. Oddly enough, though, the marble mosaics still seem to remain properly oriented.
Those waves don’t exactly make the place ADA compliant, but it is fascinating to look at. I’m surprised more people don’t fall on their faces in there. Especially given the tendency to want to look up at the gorgeous golden mosaics rather than watch where you’re going. I truly hope you get to see for yourself someday, Dear Reader!
Realizing that this is my last Venice post has me getting a lot more emotional than I expected. I really loved that city. It appealed to my Autistic need for nooks and crannies and hidey holes and mysteries and beautiful, fascinating things to focus on. If I had made its acquaintance when I was younger and more spry, I’d like to imagine that I would have found a way to live there. It’s really not a place for older people. They tend to head to the mainland, where taxis and flatter sidewalks are available. I’ll always wonder what might have been.
Addio, Venezia! Ti amerò sempre!
Additional Sources:
Saint Mark, Patron Saint of Venice
Wayback Machine–Section Dedicated to the recovery of St. Mark’s body
Could Saint Mark’s Basilica Contain the Body of History’s Greatest Warlord?
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