Procrastination, Venetian Style

Ye Gods, what an interesting few days. Italy rocked, as I rather suspected it would. I have a lot to go on about, but that can wait for the development of the dreaded holiday snaps. Muhahahaa.

As it is, I have savoured absolutely gorgeous Venetian cake, covered kilometres by foot throughout the streets of the city, met up with the lovely fioredelmale, who seriously made Venice come alive with her local knowledge and expertise, have shivered in the old gaol and stood on a quay in the morning mist and just…stared.

Venice does that to you. Everything needs staring at—the beautiful facades of the buildings, the imposing lion of St. Mark which graces so many city landmarks, the market. We stayed near the Grand Canal, by the Rialto Bridge and the Pescaria market. It was an apartment rather than a hotel, so we cooked produce we bought at the market—of course, fresh fish—but also fresh tomatoes and courgettes, chestnuts, onions, mushrooms, etc. I really enjoyed trying my hand at cooking there; it seems so much more intimate with the place than just eating out every night.

There are so many other things to go on about. There are forty-two steps up the Rialto bridge. Trust me on this one. On a lighter note, my legs have stopped aching and I think the work-out was a good do.

Yesterday, it rained and rained and bloody well rained. Still, we headed out for San Marco square again and took in the palazzo ducale – the Doge’s palace. It was, in that European monument way, overpowering; all gilded and marble and massive rooms full of paintings of Graeco-Roman myths and Christian iconography.

That was all well and good, but something morbid called us to the old gaol and the cells that were reached via the Bridge of Sighs. There was an ineffable sadness to the place; we ran our hands over parts of cells that people had obviously spent a lot of time carving figures and even poetry into, we tried to imagine how on earth Casanova escaped from such a place.

And, you know, I think Italy’s been kind on me. I think I’m definitely going to return to Italy next year, though I’ll probably try Rome or Napoli next. I feel (and was told by Mary that I look) much better after visiting there. I walked everywhere, constantly. I ate well, very healthily. The Italian men seemed to like the flowing hair thing. Erm, yeah. I collected a lot of whistles that way, and it was, to be honest, appreciated. Those Italians and their excellent tastes. ;)

Anyway, photos will follow soon!