A quickie to Venice, as Carnival 2003 gets under way

This isn't really going to say much about the Carnival as such – as far as I can see, there are a few big public events, with so many public that there's not really that much to see, except the other public. Some of these are entertaining enough: Venice in late winter seems to attract Europe's exhibitionist tendency, so there are plenty of mad costumes around. There are also a few street performers around. Unforutnately, quite a few of these are grim-faced Peruvian's with a generator powered sound system belting out backing tracks, which they play aong to from time to time, when not waving shrink-wrapped CDs under your nose.It's a shame really! I've nothing against the traditional folk music of the Andes, but I've had my lifetime's supply of 'The Sound Of Silence' on pan pipes, thanks very much.I saw a few posters advertising what looked like swanky private balls in upmarket hotels and palazzi, and I guess those are where the reall business of swanning around in very fine period dress to baroque chamber music goes on.

One abiding memory from a visit to Venice in a previous life was a slighlty eccentric restaurant called Paradiso Perduto. As it was one of the few places in Venice where decent live jazz happens, it seemed like a good idea to start there. It's in the Canareggio district, on Fondamenta Misericordia in the north west quarter of town. This seems to be a very good place to avoid the mass of tourists, and mingle instead with friendly locals and like-minded visitors. There's a clutch of interesting-looking bars and restaurants along this street, including a great looking cheap african place which I didn't manage to try this time. I got there around 11 on Friday morning. PP was closed then, but a few doors down, La Fonda Menta seemed like an OK place to stop for a coffee. I sat inside, unable to see the screen of my laptop in the light of the sun at the canal-side tables. There was a piano there, and Ignaso, the friendy chef/waiter who greeted me seemed willing, even eager for me to play it it so I spent an hour or so trying to coax my fingers into remembering some recognisable tunes. The staff seemed quite happy with the results; I'm not sure whether it attractedany more customers, but it certainly didn't seem to drive away the local builders who were all in grabbing an early pizza.

Paradiso Perduto

I finally did make it to Paradiso Perduto that evening for dinner with Connie and Drew, two friends from London who happened to be arriving in Venice that day. No live music, unfortunately (though it still happens I think) but the place still is as friendly, crazy and raucous as I remembered, and the food every bit as good. I came back again alone the following evening, and sat there thinking that this place is very close to the kind of joint I'd love to set up one day. A few reasons I like PP:

• chaotic, but stuff seems to happen
• huge pans of stuff would emerge from the kitchen to be served up on to plates on a table in the main bit of the restaurant
• long cantina-style tables down the middle where you rub elbows with strangers (the first time I went there, the patron served the band here, doling out huge portions of spaghetti Vongole from a giant aluminium cooking pot)
• no wine glasses, just assorted rough tumblers
• rough decor, though with a few carefully considered details
• lots of lauging and noise, from customers and staff alike
• bare brick walls splashed with drops of paint here and there
• the loos are outside
• food comes when it's ready, maybe not altogether
• the kitchen people keep nibbling on stuff as it's making its way to the plates
• huge pot of polenta always on the go
• waiters snatch a fag at the bar, while juggling plates piled with pasta on the way to tables
• ecletic music going on in the background
• there's a baby grand piano that takes up the space of at least 6 covers
• the patron is a chef
• he reminds me of Reb Tevvye in Fiddler on the Roof
• he drives a boat
• they forget things when they bring the bill
• the food is superb, of course!

Maybe one day I'll run a jazz club/restaurant - if I do, the PP influence will certainly be there. With luck there'll even be a mooring point for my boat just outside.

La Fonda Menta

It became a daily ritual for the four days I was there to pitch up at La Fonda Menta around mid day, sit outside in the sun, have a coffee, play a bit of mellow sax, and gradually move into lunch mode - sometimes in the company of other people who'd turned up. Anwar, the Jordanian manager seemed happy to ply me with Prosecco, if I kept playing from time to time. I was more than happy to oblige! Over 4 days I managed to eat extremely well here. Ignaso makes supremely good pizzas (including an understated 'Gregory Speck' variety), and Mirila, the Romanian chef cooks up great pasta dishes. Her sepia nero, the Venetian black pasta dish with cuttle fish, and its black ink, was gorgeous.

A few discoveries

A GOOD mask shop

A supermarket

Another possible jazz club

One of my most bizarre musical encounters to date has to be with a happy middle adged Swiss group, who I met just beside St Mark's Basilica where we were all in search of a well deserved glass of Prosecco.After a chat and a drink, the instruments came out. Theirs is a strange ensemble: tuba, drum, xylophone and flute. The tuba player set up a bluesy bass line, and I managed to play something vaguely appropriate over it. In a few minutes we'd gathered quite a crowd, including two chefs leaning out of the Hotel Concordia's kitchen windows above our heads. The Swiss were all from the town of Baden - where they assure me there are two good places for live music: The restaurant Isebähdli, which becomes a jazz club on Monday evenings; and a place for good blues on Fridays and Saturdays. I didn't quite catch the name, Inox, perhaps.

This was all as the evening darkness (and chill) was descending, so we quickly made our way to various eateries. On my way to Fonda Menta in Caraveggio, where a plate of something good was waiting or me, I met this crowd of nutters playing in the Strada Nova. I was dragooned into playing along, and we managed a passable "Tequila" together, plus one or two other well known tunes - held together by an excellent accordionist. This is them.

I got to Venice by taking a last minute place on a coach trip with www.ideenomade.fr - based in Aix-en-Provence, specialising in doing very cheap holidays, with students from Aix and Marseilles being the bulk of their customers.