Elsewhere in the monastery's eclectic collection is a hallway of modern paintings, an Egyptian mummy from the seventh century BC, and a portrait of Lord Byron. Somewhat surprisingly, Lord Byron was a fellow Armenologist. When he moved to Venice in 1816, he began to take language classes at San Lazzaro, declaring that his “mind wanted something craggy to break upon”. He studied for almost a year with the brethren, even living with them for two months.
On the boat back to the mainland, I chat with a writer named Sergey, who visited the monastery in search of a document he wants to feature in his current book. He seems well read on Lord Byron, and suspects the reason Byron moved back to Venice was the temptation of carnal desires. He points out some of the poet's old haunts, including a palazzo just behind my hotel. I step carefully from the vaporetto onto firm land, conscious of whose footsteps I'm walking in.
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