As Kat has alluded to, our afternoon in Venice was approached differently by the two genders. It also seemed to be 100 degrees outside and 120 degrees inside the beaut. This did not aid the sitution. We found a campsite at Fusina and boarded a small ferry to Venice. The cooling wind helped to soothe our grumblings and we very treated to spectacular views of the city as we docked near the Campo Di Sant Agnese. Armed with gellato, we strolled down the smallest lanes and got happily lost. We enjoyed beer, pizza, wine and coffee on the dock side as the sun set.
Jon describes Venice as a glamorous dutchess who has rather let herself go. Dilapidated is the word Tom uses. This suggests she is not aging gracefully but I would disagree. I am a complete sucker for her small lanes opening up into magnificent squares, the graffiti on ancient walls, and the way canal and building are intermingled. But most of all I am a suckered for the quiet. Despite the hoards of tourists, the lack of cars give Venice a tranquility that is so unexpected in a city.
After dinner a mercifully breezy ferry took us back to a 35 degree, mosquito heavy campsite. With copious amounts of deet, persistent perspiration and exclamations of “you’re radiating heat, don’t touch me” any romance we had mustered died.