So.
Obviously, Venice. The roads are narrow, the buildings are tall and lean precariously. There are clotheslines strung across the streets; there are spikes in the gutters, placed inside in order to prevent the omnipresent pigeons from nesting above one's doorway; there are songbirds in cages hanging out of windows. The people there are surprisingly friendly. Every second store sells masks. Many rooms are dark and windowless, and the canals are so filthy I was afraid to fall in for fear of corrosion of my flesh.
In short, it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.
Yes, everything is a bloody tourist trap. Yes, Italy bakes in the summer. Yes, the island is small and crowded. Yes, yes, yes.
Landing at the airport was interesting. We flew over water and came closer and closer with nowhere to land in sight until just before we touched down -- on the mainland. Boat or train is necessary to travel to the island of Venezia.
We took a boat. And I took pictures.
That does a nice job of summarizing the trip, actually. I took pictures. I took pictures in Turkey, I took pictures in Venice, I took pictures in Firenze. All told, over six rolls of 24 exposures. Let's see if one or two turn out.
Hm, anyway. The hotel was a renovated palace, which evokes ominous images of high ceilings covered with cobwebs. It was beautiful, actually, though it must have been a small palace. It had a little courtyard where we ate breakfast.
If you ever go to Venice, let me know. I'll give you the address of our favourite restaurant. After ten days of eating out, I have become qualified enough to give out advice.
Well, that's enough for me for now. I'm still recovering from the return.
Happiness is one very strange little bird.
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