Venice by Night: Trading the Venice Summer Heat for a 16th-Century Mainland Villa And Empty Midnight Streets
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- The Mainland Strategy: Trading the chaotic dawn water taxis of the Venetian lagoon for a sixteenth-century estate in Mestre provides a remarkably serene finale to an Italian road trip.
- The Midnight Vaporetto: Crossing into the floating city after sundown unlocks a rare, crowd-free atmosphere defined by moonlit canals, echoing footsteps, and late-night jazz in St. Mark’s Square.
- The Frictionless Departure: Positioned just fifteen minutes from Marco Polo Airport, this counterintuitive itinerary adjustment ensures both a luxurious last evening and a seamless morning flight.
The great Italian road trip is on everyone’s bucket list. If you’re planning one yourself, there’s a high likelihood you may find yourself departing out of Venice Marco Polo Airport. It’s the main gateway for the whole northeastern corner of the country, which means many itineraries funnel toward a similar finish line: one last night in the iconic floating city before an early flight out.
Every instinct would tell you to spend that last night (and perhaps most of the last day as well) inside Venice itself, booking a prime hotel room close enough to iconic St. Mark’s Square for the trip’s grand finale before the flight home. Recently, however, arriving at Venice on the final leg of a six-day road trip, I chose a more practical option, staying on the mainland and venturing into Venice only after sunset for some late night exploration.
You Can Still Get a Look at Venice on Your Last Night — Just Don’t Sleep There
First and foremost, it’s important to remember that, as is the case with many major cities, the ‘Venice Airport’ is not actually in Venice — it’s across the lagoon on the mainland. Staying a final night in Venice means dropping off your rental car just over the bridge, lugging your suitcase through the heat onto water taxis and through the narrow Venice streets to your hotel, and then, very early in the morning, trying to catch another water taxi (which can get very, very full early in the day during high tourist season) to take you back across the lagoon to the airport.
Additionally, if your road trip happens during the summer season, Venice gets extremely hot and disgustingly humid, a fact only exacerbated by the massive crowds of tourists — so many that the city now charges an entry fee during the busiest months — that throng this relatively small island city. Not to mention, the smell of lagoon algae and accumulating garbage tends to ripen in the heat. Despite how far you’ve come, this is not how Venice should be experienced.
Armed with all of this information in advance, I did some research and instead devised a plan to base myself just across the water in the town of Mestre, landing at the beautiful and historic Villa Barbarich, then crossing into Venice to explore for a few hours only after most of the day’s visitors had already gone.
A 16th-Century Villa Fifteen Minutes from Marco Polo Airport
Villa Barbarich sits in Mestre, the mainland urban district a few miles from Venice directly across the Venetian Lagoon. Mestre is easy to navigate, and there’s free and ample guest parking at Villa Barbarich, allowing you to stash the rental car until you return to the airport — only fifteen minutes away — in the morning.
The villa sits on a five-acre property the prosperous Malipiero family built as a summer residence in the 16th century. Despite its location in the middle of Mestre, the layout and surroundings give you the impression you are in the middle of the Italian countryside. Gravel paths thread through centuries-old cypress trees to a small bridge over the canal that runs along the property line, or past the swimming pool, elegant and serene in the late afternoon of a perfect Italian summer day.
The 31 rooms are split between the main villa and an adjoining barchessa, the estate’s old working barn, now converted into guest rooms. The frescoed halls upstairs are the work of Ludovico Pozzoserrato, a Flemish painter who spent his career in the Veneto, covering the ceilings in scenes from mythology sometime in the late 1500s. Family-owned for generations, the villa only just recently became a hotel in 2015.
After a final two hour drive from a few days in Trieste, I took a long nap poolside, then went for a swim. Despite the summer season, my only company was a couple on holiday, sequestered on their poolside daybed, and one small family. There was just enough time to shower and change for the evening, then make my way down to the Malipiero Restaurant, set in the first-floor loggia. A keyboardist was playing American rock ballads from the 80s, while a small handful of other guests dined just outside. I recommend taking a moment for a small bite and cappuccino out on the loggia to take in the music and the twilight before heading out for the night.
Venice After Dark: Seeing the Iconic City Without the Crowds
At 9 p.m. I caught an Uber to get to Piazzale Roma, the bus station on the other side of the two-mile causeway over the Venetian Lagoon that connects Venice to the mainland. That’s as far as you can go by vehicle. The hotel runs a shuttle to both Venice and Marco Polo Airport, although it should be noted that the shuttle doesn’t run into Venice in the evening hours. There’s also a train into Venice from the Mestre bus station, but if you have a limited amount of time to spend in Venice proper, I recommend the more expensive option of an Uber or taxi for simple efficiency.
From the bus station, you can catch the Vaporetto (water taxi) that will carry you down the Grand Canal to whichever stop you prefer to wander from. I stood against the outside rail (or if you’re lucky you can grab a seat at the bow), and the water taxi did double duty as the perfect Venice tour boat, sliding past illuminated palazzos and darkened church façades as gondolas and private motor cruises slice through the dark water on all sides. Canal-side cafés were lit and filled with the bustle of their final seatings, and a welcome breeze off the Grand Canal finally moved through air that was still holding at 85 degrees at 10 p.m.
I got off after passing beneath the Rialto Bridge and walked the narrow streets toward St. Mark’s Square, moving against an ever-decreasing current of tourists heading the other way, back to hotels and tour buses. Private gondolas generally stop running this late, which is admittedly the one real trade-off of this plan unless you arrive earlier. What you get instead is breathing room — actual physical room to take in the details of the city, to stop in the middle of a street and look up at something centuries old, a facade or statue illuminated beautifully to reveal every fine detail, without a sweaty crowd on all sides carrying you ever-forward with the masses.
St. Mark’s Square was close to empty when I got there. A handful of restaurants remained open, and I noted one, Cafe Quadri, had a small stage with a jazz quartet set up beside the tables, musicians at the ready in formal wear. The space was so empty at this hour I had to ask if they were closed, but I was promptly given a table and ordered a well-deserved martini and a pizza.
The musicians began to play, working through modern hits arranged for full orchestra. Visconti could have staged the scene that followed: within one drink the restaurant had filled in around me, as did the square behind us. A rendition of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ inspired the entire crowd to sing along, the music and their voices filling the night air in the shadow of the Campanile and the Basilica — all beneath a full moon, no less — creating one of those kismet magical moments that one thinks only happens in the movies.
From the square, it was a convenient walk past St. Mark’s Basilica, its Byzantine domes catching moonlight instead of the gold-mosaic glare of midday. Then I strolled past St. Mark’s Campanile, the Doge’s Palace and the Bridge of Sighs, the latter lit up between darkened narrow stone walls and black night canal waters, as small private motorboats with their glowing lights passed beneath.
Venice is known for its romantic atmosphere, and sure enough, as midnight approached, couples of all ages walked arm in arm, a few ducking into darkened corners to steal a kiss. On one otherwise shuttered street, a single bar had become the night’s unlikely meeting point, its red lights and disco music a beacon for those seeking one last nightcap. Groups of friends took advantage of the empty streets to pose for photos in front of quintessential Venetian backdrops. A row of teenagers sat along a deserted dock, heads down over their phones, but at least outside in the fresh, late-evening air.
A little after midnight, I caught the Vaporetto again, and it filled in stages as it worked its way back along the Grand Canal to the bus station. Restaurant and hotel staff were getting off of their shifts, drowsy tourists heading back to the mainland climbed aboard and some passengers hopped on who’d clearly just started their night. We all silently took in an even quieter, darkened Venice cityscape drifting by, ghostly and still.
The Morning After: When the Mestre Plan Really Pays Off
I got back to the villa around 2 a.m. The house was quiet, and the frescoed halls upstairs glowed faintly under the now-dimmed lights.
A few hours later, after a short but very comfortable and quiet sleep, I was back in the second-floor dining room for breakfast. More frescoes adorned the walls and ceiling, white tablecloths were on every table, and I had just enough time to enjoy a bit of the very generous spread. The drive to Marco Polo International Airport was fifteen minutes, and the rental car return took even less time than that. Even more convenient, the elevator from the rental return area runs directly down to the departures terminal so you’re at check-in and security within minutes. By comparison, those planning a morning water taxi to the airport from Venice proper are advised to allow up to two and a half hours for the trip. That’s an early wake-up time if you’ve got an 8 a.m. flight.
A final coda to my whirlwind Venice finale came on the plane. I happened to book a window seat on the right side of the aircraft, and as we climbed out over the lagoon, Venice and its islands appeared below. In the morning light, I could see in great detail the topography of the shallow lagoon marshland and secret channels that kept the city protected for centuries. Glimpsing this magical, one-of-a-kind city from above, I found myself glad I took my last evening in Italy to see it from below, if just for a moment, under the light of a full moon.
