Travelling days usually see us as hot, sticky messes as we heave our bags through ever increasing levels of security checkpoint, battle pre-Christmas crowds and dodge the poor weather. Although today still had us heading out into rain, we did have a late checkout and an even later train ride to Venice. We even had time to take a photo of the balcony that joined our hotel rooms and of course Hamish’s new belt.
All rather civilised really, although I did have a “moment” when I was absolutely convinced that I had lost my wallet. This was the second time, but on this occasion, I’m sure my heart momentarily stopped. I was sure it was gone – the pocket I thought it was in was unzipped and the pocket was empty. We had just walked through a crowd of likely looking characters. God I’m an idiot! Wait, you really are an idiot was the thought I had when I found the wallet in another pocket. Able to breathe again we continued to the station.
Can’t remember if I’ve covered this before, but I have managed to actively thwart 2 pick pocket attempts so far on the holiday. The first, in Copenhagen, was quite sophisticated, with a team working to create a distraction on the left while approaching from the right. The second nearly resulted in me getting physical as a street hawker attempted to use Hamish to distract us while his other hand reached behind us. It makes me wonder how many attempts (unsuccessful so far) that I have missed?
The train ride to Venice was easy. The slow start after a sleep in left us all ready to tackle a new city. Arriving at the Venice station we got our tickets for the ferry and headed out to the dock. As we boarded the ferry Megan and I both noticed one of the staff motioning something about our backpacks. Thinking that he was acknowledging the heavy load we thought nothing more of it.
Megan was really looking forward to Venice (but the boat rides less so) and no sooner were we underway than she had the iPhone out taking photos.
We were all happy and excited, laughing at our wobbly sea legs after sitting on the train. Several stops into the ride (and probably hundreds of photos) one of the ferry crew informed us that we were required to remove our backpacks (remember the kind man motioning us as the beginning?). Feeling a little foolish we complied with the request to some knowing and sympathetic glances from a few locals.
Before long we had arrived at the island of San Marco – our home for the next few days. Our accommodation was just behind the Piazza San Marco. We walked along the dockside towards the square, stopping for quick look at the Basilica di San Marco, dodging the million or so pigeons (aerial rats) and marvelling at the crowds.
After getting set up in our room we were keen to stretch our legs. With sunset approaching we headed for the waterside, Megan recalling that Venice sunsets are a sight to see. We were not disappointed and Megan got a great photo that definitely captured the moment.
We then headed inland with a vague mission to find a supermarket and somewhere for dinner. Venice is a great place to meander, with many small alleyways to explore. Shops of all kinds caught our eyes as we wandered and our fun was only broken by the constant interruptions of touts trying to get us to eat in their restaurant. We quickly vowed that we would not eat anywhere where one of these guys bothered us. I was surprised when we emerged at the grand canal near Rialto, having crossed that arm of the island. We got a few essential supplies (including a bottle of beer) from the supermarket and set off to find dinner. A simple dinner of pasta was enjoyed before a stroll back to our hotel.
On our last night in Florence we encountered some idiots setting off firecrackers in the street. They would ignite the crackers dropping them behind unsuspecting pedestrians and then walk off to watch the result. This really unnerved Megan. Which is relevant to Venice because … walking around the edge of the Piazza San Marco we all startled to a nearby “explosion”. So nearby in fact that it was at our feet. Swinging around we saw Hamish with a horrified expression looking to the ground where there was a quickly spreading pool of liquid – amber coloured liquid to be precise.
Who knew that a bottle of beer dropped perfectly horizontally would implode with such a sound?
No real harm done we finished the walk to our hotel ready for a sleep and the next day.
P.S. We walked past the scene of the crime (surely a wasted beer is a crime?) several times during the rest of the stay. Hamish was “gently” reminded each time of the importance in holding on tightly to bags when carrying them.