Those of you who have followed this blog for a while, and particularly read my series of posts, ‘How I Came to be in England’ know that the Englishman and I have two wedding anniversaries. Normally we celebrate the first, May one, just with cards and perhaps a glass of bubbly in the evening, or if it falls at the weekend, a nice lunch. This year, however, we are celebrating our 30th year together and the Englishman surprised me with a trip to Venice. (I know, 30 years of intense training has not gone to waste).
I have been travelling a bit for my new job recently, and when we were sitting in the taxi to the airport, I was thinking how mad it was to go away again for just a couple of nights. (How ungrateful of me, I know). But I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful Venice is. When our water taxi, after a particularly choppy transfer across the water from the airport, finally slowed down and went under the first bridge of one of the many canals in the town, my eyes filled with tears. Everywhere I looked I saw delightful scenes: ornate buildings sinking into water; small resplendent bridges criss-crossing the canals; sun shimmering on the surface of the water. It was as if we were in the middle of a Renaissance painting.
Since we only had two nights, all I wanted to do was to have a ride on a gondola and see St Marks Square. But because Venice in early May wasn’t yet too busy, and in truth the town isn’t too big, we managed to see almost all of it. We walked miles and miles, got lost more than once, and enjoyed every minute of our brief holiday.
Our gondola ride was particularly enjoyable. We took the first one we saw, a few steps away from our hotel, and were lucky in that we got a tour of the quieter areas of Venice. The hour’s ride slowed us down and relaxed us during the first few hours of our visit. It was the perfect start.
Of course we ate a lot of good food too – what particularly stayed with me was a small place we happened upon with Venetian ‘tapas’ and perfect pasta. Don’t ask me where it is, though!
Plus the prosecco was much more delicious than it’s here in the UK. Less bubbles and the taste was so much more rounded and less acid. Apparently they only export the bad stuff…or at least that’s what the waiter in one restaurant told us. And the spritz was a perfect drink for Venice in sunshine, although we ended up paying a tourist price for it at St Marks Sq. Oh well, occasionally it’s nice to be dumb tourist.
Here are some pictures of the holiday in no particular order. Hope you enjoy them!