My blog post will be short and sweet, just as my topic is, and just as its name suggests. Tonight, my mom and I engaged in a very touristic activity: we went to Harry’s Bar.
Harry’s Bar has a very unassuming, if not obscured, entrance. One would not know it was Harry’s Bar, unless one was looking for it. With a cursory glance, the frosted doors would have seemed just those. They would not have seemed like the doors to one of the most famous bars in Venice!
Harry’s Bar has quite the intriguing history. http://www.harrysbarvenezia.com/
When my mom and I arrived, the small, intimate space was milling with people. All the tables were occupied, and there was nowhere for us to go except wait awkwardly in the narrow space by the bar and between surrounding tables. There are only fourteen tables in the entire bar. The white-jacketed waiters walked around busily, promptly refilling drinks and clearing tables for new customers.
Once we were able to escape the fray and sit at our own table, we were able to have a central view of the bar. Our table was in the middle, in a spot where it appeared there usually would not have been a table. Perhaps they brought it out during the evening given that when we arrived, the bar was at its peak. The entire room was very warm. The dark wooden furniture, the yellow walls, and the proximity of people all fused to create a comfortable, intimate atmosphere; however, the drinks were priced by their repute, not by their size.
Naturally, we ordered two Bellinis. They were invented there, after all! While delicious and authentic, the Bellinis came in two small glasses, and their price would have indicated at least a tall one. Both of us were content to sit in Harry’s Bar, drink it all in, and enjoy the frenzy of the six o’clock bar hour. When in Venice…