Let’s face facts: Venice has one of the most unique and rich histories in the world – it is a swirling hodgepodge of global influence, an intersection between east and west, a city with an uncertain future and a dubious past. It’s no wonder La Serenissima inspired so many poets, artists and musicians from all over the world with it’s stunning visuals and murky mystery. Notables from Hemingway to Ruskin to Ezra Pound wandered it’s calles searching for inspiration – and their places of residence, like Venice itself, stubbornly abide despite the creeping modernity rampant elsewhere in the world.
Which brings me to Pensione Wildner. From the culturally sensitive to the discerning traveler, the Wildner satisfies at every turn. Conveniently located on the sweeping Riva degli Schiavoni and therefore within walking distance to Piazza San Marco and the Doge’s Palace, the hotel is easy to find and easy to access from both the water and the street. But the best part is the building’s history – 19th century literary luminary and professional ex-pat Henry James made the window-facing rooms of the Wildner his home for several months while penning his novel “Portrait of a Lady,” describing in both the story and the prologue the glorious view from his pensione quarters. So naturally I booked a lagoon-facing apartment, hoping to see Venezia through my fellow countryman’s eyes.
The Wildner is tiny, but that’s where it gets it’s charm. The same person who sent me my hotel confirmation online was there to greet me by name with a huge smile when I checked in. No computers here – all reservations are filed in handwriting. A fluffy cream-colored mutt rushed up to greet me as I signed in and got my key (a REAL key, none of this new-fangled, constantly-demagnitizing keycard nonsense) and I hauled my luggage up the narrow curving stairway to an even narrower hallway.
Inside, my second floor room boasted shiny parquet floors, a couple satin-upholstered chairs and ottomans that matched the double bed with it’s massive headboard, a funky shelf/pullout desk, fabric-covered closet and drawers built into the wall and a brand-new, gleaming marble bathroom. Two enormous windows at the far end of the room let in brilliant sunshine and looked out over flower-filled windowboxes to San Giorgio Maggiore island across the lagoon. Good choice, Mr. James.
While not oversized, the room was comforable, spotless and just what they’d promised online. My only two complaints? No counter space in the bathroom and very few electric outlets. But with the evening breeze and distant bells drifting through the open windows, it would be pretty hard to complain about such minutia. A small but sufficient daily breakfast buffet included a selection of yogurt, variety of pastries, 3 kinds of juice, fresh coffee and fruit. There was probably cold cuts of some kind, but something about eating meat in the morning just doesn’t sit well with me so I made no note of it (I’d better get over that if I move to London).
But in more colorful culinary news, I had an evening to myself one night, and took the opportunity to dine at the intimate and cozy Ristorante Wildner, which takes up residence in the hotel’s covered veranda on the bustling Riva. The hotel’s front desk clerk actually sat me himself (next to a darling British couple on holiday, who had come from their hotel a few doors down – the 5-star Metropole - just to dine here!) and told me about the daily specials, pouring me a glass of wine in the process. The only hitch in the evening came at the beginning of the meal – it took a good 10 minutes for any waiters to come by and take my order…apparently they thought I was waiting for someone (ah, the trials of being an independent female traveler…) But once they got the picture, it was impeccable from start to finish. The grilled swordfish with caponata and vegetables was flaky and flavorful with a hint of sweetness, the cappuccino foamed to perfection. They were more than generous with the pour of Valpolicella I ordered as well.
I fell asleep in a comfortable bed with extra blankets and a cool Venetian breeze through the open window, waking only once to a restless noise akin to a bowling ball being rolled across a wooden floor (perhaps the fitful ghost of Mr. James himself?) And every morning when I arrived downstairs, the fluffy dog was waiting to greet me with a wagging tail to lead me to the breakfast room. No matter which clerk was at the desk, I was always called by name, so much so that rushing through the door after a long day getting lost in the lagoon labyrinth became like coming home.
Given all this, it’s a wonder one could come to Venice and stay anywhere else. Pensione Wildner is a true treasure, and if my fervent promise to their guestbook is any indication, I’ll most certainly be back.
TIPS
- eat at the restaurant! Hotel guests receive a 10% discount, and the food is so good the restaurant is actually listed in guidebooks separately from the hotel – like I experienced, people come from all over town to eat there – not your typical hotel fare!
- if you take the Vaporetto around town or the Alilaguna blue line from Marco Polo airport, your stop is San Zaccaria – one before San Marco – the stop is literally in front of the hotel – you can’t get any more convenient!
- remember to return your key to the front desk whenever you exit the hotel (like the Danieli) – can’t have miscellaneous keys wandering about town, you know.
Rooms: 16
Rates: from €90,00, includes breakfast
Website: www.hotelwildner.com
I had rooms on the Riva Schiavoni, at the top of a house near the passage leading off to San Zaccaria; the waterside life, the wondrous lagoon spread before me, and the ceaseless human chatter of Venice came in at my windows, to which I seem to myself to have been constantly driven, in the fruitless fidget of composition, as if to see whether, out in the blue channel, the ship of some right suggestion, of some better phrase, of the next happy twist of my subject, the next true touch for my canvas, might n’t come into sight. (…)
There are pages of the book which, in the reading over, have seemed to make me see again the bristling curve of the wide Riva, the large colour-spots of the balconied houses and the repeated undulations of the little hunchbacked bridges, marked by the rise and drop ahain, with the wave, of foreshortened clicking pedestrians. The Venetian footfall and the Venetian cry – all talk there, wherever uttered, having the pitch of a call across the water – come in once more at the window, renewing one’s old impression of the delighted senses and the divided, frustrated mind.” ~ Henry James, “Portrait of a Lady” Preface, 1881
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