The rain is not only in Spain

So again I am sitting down to write the blog.  Just like every other day on this trip.

As we arrived in Christchurch, so we come back.  The weather here at the moment is damp and cool.  Today was a top of 17⁰ but the wind made it feel much cooler.  Summer here, it seems, is about as warm as winter back home!  We are told that after New Year it

actually got into the mid 30's.  I know I was looking forward to the cooler weather here before we left, but now, I'm craving the warmer weather back home.  Just as well we are leaving tomorrow.  We began our day down at the bus terminus getting ready to travel up to Mt Cavendish via the Christchurch Gondola.  En-route we see more and more of the public art offerings that artists were asked to contribute straight after the 2011 earthquake when the Art Gallery was damaged.  There are all sorts of offerings from raspy graffiti styled works to extravagant offerings that have contemporary themes.

It was brunch time and the offerings were pretty slim.  We settled on Japanese - Pork and Garlic Chive dumplings and Chicken Yatsu to share.  Really fresh and prepared in front of our eyes.  Yummy as!

We had checked out the bus times and finish our meal just in time to get the bus as it pulls in to the bay.  The Bus Terminus is fairly newly finished and really well laid out.  All buses pull in to a bay meaning that no matter what the weather, passengers get to board in the dry.  Seems to work like a dream with 13 gates available and buses coming and going literally every couple of minutes.

We have had to plan our day a bit better as we are now relying on public transport.  The bus to Lyttelton ends up at the Christchurch Gondola station - very convenient and takes about 20 minutes from the centre of town. Its interesting to have the opportunity to travel through the suburbs and get a bit of an overview to life in the Christchurch residential areas.


The Christchurch Gondola has a route that rises 445 m above the base station over a route of 1 km - almost fully vertically up (or so it seems to me).  Not for the faint-hearted and by the time we actually reached the summit, I was starting to feel it!  Still, the views are certainly worth the little bit of acrophobia felt.


You look out over the Mount Cavendish Scenic Reserve, Lyttelton Scenic Reserve, Mount Pleasant Scenic Reserve and Tauhinu-Korokio Scenic Reserve down over Lyttelton Harbour and across to Otamahua (Quail) Island.  Down over Christchurch city and out to the Pacific Ocean.  It truly is quite a vista.

Michael indulges his sweet tooth with a Cookies n Cream cheesecake while I enjoyed a date scone with my coffee.
Following this little sustenance, Michael set out to walk one of the trails while I explored the Time Tunnel that explained the history of the region. Their souvenir shop was surprisingly affordable - too bad that I have already bought my fill.

The Canterbury Plains are stunning and we are told that on a clear day you can see across to the Southern Alps, but not today.  As we are leaving, the gondola operator tells us that yesterday the weather was so bad that you could not see Christchurch until after the fog lifted about 4 pm, so I guess it is better that we came today.

We followed our trip up the Mountain with a foot trip through the streets of Christchurch finding more of the artworks and some new buildings that are brave and bold in timber and metal and now limited to 6 stories to limit future problems with any more seismic activity.  Buildings now are rated for earthquakes and although we are only on the second floor, I'm grateful the Ramada has a A1 rating! 

The famous Container Mall has been all but totally dismantled now that the inner city Malls are again taking shape.  It is interesting as when you ask where the City Centre is, the common response is that it is changing day by day.

The last remnants of the Chinese New Year celebrations are still up - you need to understand the incredible number of Chinese people who came to New Zealand when gold was discovered.  And as we have found during our stay, NZ is a very popular destination for Chinese tourists these days.



Our last stop for the afternoon was the Transitional Cathedral otherwise known as the Cardboard Cathedral.  The Evensong Service was underway and so I sat in, allowing the choister boy voices to lift my spirit into the cavernous void above us. 

I calculate that the seating as set out can accommodate about 340 people - significantly less than the 1,000 that the former Anglican Cathedral could house. 
Although this building is 'temporary', there is definitely a feel of persistence and permanence. 

After the service, we are told that the decision has just taken to re-build the former Cathedral, although there is not yet an appeal underway.

And nearby is probably the most poignant art installation, the 185 Empty Chairs memorial dedicated to the number of lives lost in the 2011 earthquake.


Back to the hotel just a few blocks away - they have a combined washing machine / dryer so we can do all our washing before we leave for home. It is getting darker now and much cooler. Time to be indoors.

And now, if only the broader weather patterns will behave themselves - we arrived on the coat tails of TC Gita.  Not at all interested in being blown home by TC Hola currently out in the Pacific - or any other one that our home messages are warning of.

An unexpected link to Maryborough

Again we sleep longer than we originally planned - one of the perks of being on holidays and in a fab bed!  We had planned to get up at 7:30 am, but Michael has set the alarm for 8:30 - ha ha ha - he never was a morning person!

A quick goodbye to Scooter just after 9:30 sees us head in to spend the morning giving Arrowtown some serious attention.  Scooter is originally from Europe and even she comments on the cost of living here. She and Grant have a small cottage that they are busily renovating and remodelling. Today she says it is valued at $1.4 million. And it is small - two bedrooms only. The airbnb room that we occupied is in a new built in area under the house.

Dating back to the mid 1800s, its main street is filled with the small original stores that graced it in its heydays when gold was being mined.  All of them re-purposed now of course. But still quaint and very twee.


We're off to 'Provisions of Arrowtown' a purveyor of all things local and foodie for breakfast.  Michael orders the big breakfast (of course), while I choose the Buckwheat Pancakes with grilled banana, blueberries and marscapone. And coffees of course. Those pancakes were as light as clouds and Michael's 3 eggs were poached to perfection. We are sitting in a back room, overlooking a Quince tree laden with growing fruits.


Once sated, we amble up the main street, stopping in at most of the shops. Some are surprisingly affordable, others not so - some of the merchants are really trying to make the most out of the many Chinese visiting the area.  And then we pause outside the local Sotheby's office (sure that gives you a hint!).  This property was the cheapest in their window! 

There are gold, jewellery, clothing, woollen goods, souvenirs, artworks shop that are interspersed with lots of eateries all doing a roaring trade.  The really noticeable thing here is that everyone from the young ladies in the Visitor Information Centre, to the sales staff in the shops and the wait staff all treat their visitors with open willing friendliness, whether you are buying or browsing. It is really noticeable and contributes to a wonderful warm feeling all through town. And because everyone is so friendly, all the visitors and smiling. And spending!!  If only we could bottle it and shake it all over home.

Arrowtown had its birth in the 1860s when the push to mine gold from the Arrow River was at its peak.  The original buildings in the main street have continued to evolve into the retail and service offerings of today.  And just like in Australia, where there was gold, came the Chinese.  The first orientals in the area didn't assimilate and created their own little village in the back streets towards the river and much to the annoyance of the European traders, the Chinese even set up their own shops.

Once the gold mining stopped being commercial, the town faded into the backdrop, meaning that there are still more than 70 historic sites remaining. In the 1950s there was a resurgence of interest in the area as a holiday destination. It is less than an hour to the summer friendly Lake Wanaka and even closer to the winter ski fields.

We were lucky to be wandering around today as the local farmers market was on in the local park. Cheeses, salmon, cured meats, fresh fruits, baked goodies - a foodies heaven. But we were also unlucky. We were putting some purchases in the car when I put the keys down to move a bottle of water. Promptly shut the boot and the car automatically locked. With the keys still inside.  A bad design flaw in the Ford Focus if you ask me. An hour later and $160 poorer, the local AA man has us back in the car.


And now to the link with Maryborough.  Sister (now Saint) Mary McKillop came to Arrowtown 20 years after she had set up the first catholic school in Maryborough, where she also set up a school for the local children.  Funny the things that link us across the waters, isn't it.

And locally, Irene S and Ann C both asked whether the lolly shop still exists.  We can happily report that yes it does, and it is still doing a roaring trade of old favourites and new offerings.

It is now early afternoon and we hit the road to head for Queenstown - about 25 minutes away.  And while the day was a cool summer day in Arrowtown, as we get closer to Queenstown, the weather also is closing in with lots of clouds again rolling down the mountainsides.  Donna had said that one of the must does here is the Gondola to the top of Bob's Peak.  St Frances is with us again as we get a car park about 100 m from the entry as another can pulls out.  The rain is beginning as we leave the car.  We manage to get into our gondola and up the mountain in just very light rain, so get one reasonable photo on our way up the VERTICAL mountain.  But by the time we peak out at the top, the rain has set in. 

We sit with coffees and wonder at the sanity of people who race the luges in the rain, but even more so, to the mountain bike riders who pay up to $900 for an annual pass to ride the gondolas up just to plunge down the mountain side - the very steep mountain side - even in the rain, and as we are told later, even in the snow!

We hang around for an hour or so hoping for clearer weather, but it is not to be, so we head back to ground zero thinking we might catch a movie - but can't find the cinema, so we head for Mossburn for the night.  A couple of reasons we chose here - it is on the road to Te Anua and Milford Sound, and it happened to have a vacancy - many places are still fully booked. The entire drive along what must be stunning scenery with towering hills and deep gorges along the length of Lake Wakatipu. Today however, through the veil of water they are merely shadows and outlines.  Not fair.

And finally I am gobsmacked at the large number of sheep (and cattle) that they farm per hectare here. Without a word of a lie, there were about 1,000 sheep on a 3 - 4 hectare block.  The rain isn't worrying them, what with their greasy wool coats.  The cattle on the other hand huddle in tight lines at the most protected parts of their paddocks - hides are not so waterproof!

We pull in to the carpark at the Mossburn Railway Hotel to check in and have dinner just before 7pm.  The rain continues and the temperature has plummeted.  The hotel is dry and warm with a roaring fire going. Drinks and dinner ordered and done, we head across the road to their new accommodation units - Wheels and Reels. 
My crumbed Blue Cod was delicious and Michael loved his Fisherman's Basket complete with mussels and scallops!

There is or was another link with home here - up until the 1970s there was a combined rail and road bridge over the Oreti River - very similar (although not as high) as our Dickabram Bridge!

Tomorrow promises to be clear and warm and we are hoping to do a day cruise to  Doubtful Sound - quieter and less crowded than Milford Sound.

Looking through the glass

As we already had our bus tickets, we did not rush to breakfast this morning. The breakfast at Hotal Adria is quite ok with 'fresh' (caterers pack) blood orange juice, good coffees, croissants and rolls with jams and cheese spreads. Once we have kitted up the backpack for the day we set off, just missing the No 7 bus into Venice. Bugger, a 20 minute wait. Oh, hang on, here is another one! The bus is very full and its part way before I can get a seat. The day is bright and very warm, and that bus is getting hotter and hotter. Again, we play dodge the pedestrian, the scooter, the car, other buses and lots of limos as we arrive on the island.

Helen has postcards to post so heads for the post office while we suss out the best way over to Murano. Poor Helen has a long wait in the queue at the post office, moving well down the line before realising that she needs a ticket for service - and then watches while the locals ignore the number system and just push in. To make matters worse the service clerk is not only disinterested, he is quite abrupt and rude.

Finally she is out and we head for the long route ferry to Murano. This takes us around the outside of the island stopping at a number of jetties before heading out across Laguna Morta firstly to the Cimitero Island and then Laguna Veneta to the much smaller island of Murano. As we arrive, we actually see our first example of the plight that faces all of Venice - the tide is high and as the ferry docks, the water is washing well across the pavements - we have to dodge not only the puddles, but the waves of water as they come forward and then ebb, time and time again!

We are hoping to see venetian glass and in particular the Millefiore glass being made. Its not long before our hopes are dashed - while there are plenty of glass shops, the factories closed on the weekends. Bugger bugger bugger. One of the retailers draws comparisons to factories in Australia, to car factories and anything else he can think of - they are all closed on the weekends - and he obviously gets asked the same question plenty of times.

We do the rounds of the shops along the main Rio dei Vetra, the main canal that leads from the ferry pier. There are amazing sights and wondrous things to peruse. We see lots of ornaments and jewellery and chandeliers and vases and more. Much of it is very similar from shop to shop, although each one does seem to have one or two items that are fairly unique. Helen has been looking for presents and texts her sister with a question about whether her mum had a piece of Murano jewellery. Back came the answer, "Save your money, but if you can find a hatpin . . ." Gosh that was not something we had seen to date but at the very next shop we enter we find the perfect gift!

We stop for cold drinks before continuing to graze up the street - yep, I do mean that, we buy little mementos at various shops. My eye is drawn to a shop that sells Venetian Glass miniatures - oh, they are so intricate and beautiful! And oh so expensive! We are working our way to the next islet where the Museo del Vetro (Glass Museum) is housed in the Palazzo da Mula over a footbridge. Ha ha,it is closed - for lunch. Like many other things here in Italy. We want to see more of Venice itself and so decide not to wait the 1½ hours until it re-opens.

One of the collection of photos that I have been gathering during our trip has been that of the windows and window boxes of Europe. And I was not about to miss this one on Murano where the flowers are - GLASS of course! Blown glass, just like the collection I have in the bathroom at home!

On the way back we get the fast ferry which makes two collections on Murano and deposits at the railway station and the main ferry terminal. And of course, as luck would have it, we realise as we go sailing past them that there were indeed a couple of factories open to demonstrate for the tourists. Bugger again. (although they were not the main factories).

Our aim when we return to Venice today is to get the ferry right down to the other end of the Island so we can visit the Piazzetta Di San Marco with the Loggetta, the Clock Tower and St Mark's Basilica and the Doge's Palace. Unfortunately the ferries that ply the Grande Canal stop at least at every other pier, so it is a 20 minute trip. We are amazed at the dexterity of the ferry captains, and the frenetic passage of water craft up the canal. I keep having to remind mself that this is the equivalent of a road network, complete with buses (ferries), trucks (barges) family cars (boats) and those out for a Sunday Drive (the gondolas)!

At last we arrive at the San Marco stop and alight. Across a small bridge and we are on a wide (for Venice) foot avenue where artists have their easels set up and paintings for sale out. These are balanced out with the 'trash and treasure' sellers that seem to be found everywhere today with the same mostly junky items that are mass made. Unfortunately, these are always the more aggressive sellers who turn the tourist off when it comes to buying.

We continue to walk ahead and then all of a sudden, there is the amazing sight of the Piazza San Marco with the Doge Palace, the Basilica Di San Marco with it's Campanile, the standards of the City with the statues of Saint Mark, the patron saint of Venice and the winged lion (Griffin) and the extravagant shopping arcades that surround the square and the restaurants that spill out into this lively place. The Basilica San Marco is an amazing building. It is not really a beautiful building in terms of symmetry and harmony. Quite the opposite in fact. It is a busy, sometimes jarring combination of various styles of building that brings the most major example of Byzantium to Venice and Italy. There are domes above the Greek cross layout and the arches that face the square are filled with amazing mosaics on golden backgrounds.

We sit in the Piazza San Marco in the shade of the colonaded shopping malls at the Caffe Florian contemplating their menu. When finally we attract the attention of our waiter, he tells us there is a €6 music charge per person - hmm, do we have any choice? We are sitting out on the piazza and life doesn't get much better. The menu is not huge, but there is enough to appeal to each of us. Which is good, I guess, because the prices do not really appeal to anyone, but what the heck, we are only in Venice for today and the setting is like a fairytale. So we sit with a coffee and dessert while watching the world go by and just embracing the ambience. However, Michael is unable to contain himself as he dashes off in an attempt to reach the summit of the Campanile. Oh, well, it appears his coffee and dessert will have to wait....

The Campanile di San Marco is the bell tower of St Mark's Basilica in the Piazza San Marco, Venice. It stands 98.6 meters tall and is the centre piece in the piazza opposite the Basilica. Built initially during the 9th century upon Roman foundations, it original use is believed to have been as a watchtower or lighthouse for the port and an observatory. The Campanile has been the inspiration for the design of other towers throughout the world; this includes the Brisbane City Hall, Queensland, Australia. Over the centuries the Campanile has undergone various stages of restoration as it had been subjected to several collapses due to the weakening of its superstructure. Today, however, it stands as the beacon to the port of San Marco.

Visitors to the Campanile can enjoy virtually uninterrupted views of Venice from the belfry. The five bells in the belfry are now silent, although, each had a specific purpose. The largest bell 'Marangona' was rung at the beginning and end of each workday. Of the smaller bells: 'Nona' was rung to signify midday; 'Trottiera' was rung to call Council Members to meetings; 'Mezza Terza' rang to herald the session of the Senate; finally, 'Renghiera' (or the 'Maleficio') was rung to announce executions!

However, my interest in the Campanile lay in the initial telescopic observations made by Galileo Galilei which inspired him to write his brief treatise entitled 'Sidereus Nuncius' ('Starry Messenger'). It is Venice in 1609, where a short and stocky man with red hair, heard of the new Flemish invention - the telescope. The news electrified the fortyfive year old Galileo, inspiring him to construct an example of the 'spyglass'. In one night he stepped up the magnification which rendered the device's amplification equal to the of an opera glass. Racing up to the top of the Campanile to test his telescope, Galileo was not satisfied with its magnification. Making new and larger lenses and increasing the focal length to the tube of his new telescope - he soon discovered the magnification was increased three fold. He now had a real telescope.

Uses for this invention were profound and no less than for military use; which would have been more beneficial to the Brokers of the Rialto. However, Galileo turned his invention towards the heavens and in particular - the moon. Galileo's 'Starry Messenger' and his later volume, 'Dialogo Sopra i due Massimi Sistemi del Mondo' ('Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems') would bring him into direct conflict with the Catholic Church and the Roman Inquisition. In 1632, Galileo was tried by the Inquisition, found guilty under the suspicion of heresy and forced to recant. He would spend the rest of his life under house arrest. On the day Galileo died, 8th January 1642, Isaac Newton was born.

Michael returns on a high and just beaming after his rendezvous with the bell tower. As he returns to our table, he excitedly blurts that he stood at the very spot where Galileo Galilei tested his telescope. Yes, and Michael has taken a photo of the marble plaque attesting to Galileo's contribution to astronomy - oh, well....

And as we finish up in the Piazza, we take one last stroll past the up-market shops to be found around the square, marvelling at the artistic skill on show in the beautiful glasswork pieces. Then its back up the Grande Canal to catch our bus back to Mestre. Gosh, there was still so much that we didn't get to see on Venice. You could spend a lifetime here wandering the back lanes and canals, making all sorts of interesting little discoveries along the way. But time is marching and other locations in Italy beckon . . .

All the V's - Verona through to Venice

We probably would not have even called in at Verona if it had not been encouraged by Rosaria at Stresa. But boy, are we glad we did! We leave Sirmione and travel off motorway through the countryside to Verona that is less than 45 kms away. Like many of these towns, we again enter through the industrialised zone - kind of a pity really because we are seeing the worst long before we see the best and often get the wrong impression of a town.

Its not too long though before we get into the frenetic traffic of inner city Verona. We are back to those narrow small streets that Helen loves so much! There is not a lot of street parking available and we look on both sides of the river. "Be patient" I say. And there it is!! Frances has been saving us one, just a few blocks from the main square. We feed the meter and duty done, head off to take a look. We had passed a most amazing sight for Helen (and us too, but we have seen others) in the Roman Amphitheatre in the centre of the town as well as a good stretch of the city walls still standing and the gates in to the city. So we head off to here first.

Outside in the Plaza there are local characters dressed as Gladiators in the plastic breastplates and helmets that the boys wore as kids! For "a small donation, ma'am" they will pose with you for a photo. Helen is posing with the gladiator on the left and at the time I took this photo, had no idea that the guy with the sword was there! There were even more laughs once she turned around to see him. Each day, Hels takes a 'foot' photo and today it is taken in the amphitheatre against a piece of pink marble that has the fossil of an ammonite in it - clearly visible!

This was a special place for Helen especially who said that sitting on a marble seat that had been there for 2,000 years was amazing. The arena was being set up for a concert that night and had been used the month before for a performance of Turandot featuring none other than Placido Domingo. Tonight it's the turn of an Italian popstar (who we have never heard of!) But it is nice to see that this public space is still in use today. With the seating for the concert in the floor of the amphitheatre, it is hard to visualise the original use - the famous gladiator fights. It is a good climb, and a test of the calf muscles, to the top on those worn marble steps, but the view was certainly rewarding.

But we are here just for a quick stop, so they re-join me on the outside and we head off across the plaza for a coffee. Ah, Verona - this is where Juliet called pensively to Romeo, and we have yet to see it, so Michael rushes to feed that hungry parking meter a little more. Helen and I walk along the arcades that face in to the square to one of the gates that were the only entries into the town square - this one set with a great clock up near the crenellations on its walls. The Church that is out is the street behind it also makes a great photo. And so we walk along the former city wall to the Information Centre to find out where Juliet's balcony is. Map in hand, we wander down back streets and across plazas. We come across the house where Maria Callas once lived. We see the remains of an even earlier Roman gate - the Porta Leoni dating back to 70BC and in the square near it, part of the footings of its round towers have been excavated. Michael of course is in history heaven and really quite oblivious to us for a time!

Finally we reach Juliet's house along with the famed balcony. Of course, its really all a load of hogwash. The story is just that, a story, originally set in Siena by a writer from Verona before being adapted by Shakespeare. There is a true link though - the house is owned by the Dal Capello family (from where the Capulets got their name) since the 13th century. There are hundreds of people crammed in to the inner courtyard that has been paved with those pebbles with their edges facing up which slope into a drainage pit in the centre - killers for the tootsies!! The balcony sits up above near one corner and for a fee you can enter a museum now housed in the building and have a photo taken. No thanks, I am far more interested in the covered timbered medieval arcade at the other end of the building and the mason's marks, while Helen has her photo taken having a grope for Greg!

And so we take our leave having had a tantalising taste of Verona, but really nowhere long enough. I seem to say it every day - 'you could live a lifetime in Europe and still not see it all' and today is the epitome of this. There is so much more we could see. It would have been nice to have more time to sit and watch too, but Venice is calling, so we reluctantly move on.

We drove along the motorway from Verona headed for Venice having plotted Kate for the Hotel Adria on the mainland. Ah yes, Venice is an island! But to stay on that island we would have had to hock the car AND all Helen’s possessions! We had been forewarned by Jan and Erin back home that parking in Venice itself is a nightmare and the train system very efficient.

So following Jan and Erin’s lead we booked a hotel in Mestre on the mainland. You know, even in Mestre where we were staying, there was a traffic restricted area – of course, right where we needed to go! Still, we found the hotel thanks to their pretty good signage.
There is a public car park nearby and so we pull in there while Michael went to check if that was the parking area referred to in the reservation confirmation. The spaces are tight so Michael dives out quickly before I park. Before he is fully out of the car there is an African man helping to direct us to a spot. Aha – we know his game. Our windows are down and its only a heartbeat later that the begging starts. I just put the window up. Cruel as it may seem, this is the easiest way to deal with this issue. There are many cities in Europe where there are now signs to the effect of ‘Please do not encourage the beggars’ and often you can see the police moving them on. For those of us more fortunate than some, we might appear to be good targets for a donation. Michael arrives back to tell us that there is parking directly behind the hotel and we gladly leave the beggar and his three mates to their craft.

The Hotel Adria is beautifully clean. The room, while not big, has comfortable beds – and anyway, our aim is not to visit the hotel! There is a bus stop about 100 m down the road with tickets sold at the adjacent Tabac. We no Italiano, she no Inglesi! Thankfully a customer spoke some English and we are soon holding combined transport tickets for 36 hours at a cost of €23 each – that will last us through to 4 am Sunday if needed! Like that’s $40 Australian. Not long and we are sitting on the No 7 ActVa bus to Venice. Quite efficient with a 20 minute service too. Mind you, it is after 4 pm by now, and life is still thumping.

Mestre is a residential and commercial hub that sits just outside the Port of Venice. We cross over the main rail line that has about a dozen tracks – remember, two or three stops away is the final stop – and they can’t go any further without getting very damp wheels. That there is sufficient traffic to warrant this size of infrastructure is pretty amazing – ah, but of course, there will be freight off the port as well!!

The road runs parallel to the rail across the peninsula that extends for just under 4 kms over to the Island. Once on the island itself, it gets really really crazy! There are cars going every direction, darting across the lines of traffic without any thought for anyone’s safety! The buses hurtle through the middle of it all to a huge bus parking plaza where there are long range, tour and local buses all intermingled. And the rule here – the horn of course!!

We all disgorge from the bus – about 50 of us (yes, by the time we get on to Venice we are playing the sardine game!) and surge for the edge of the water. From here, we are but just a few steps from the famous Grande Canal of Venezia. And what a sight greets us. Think of George Street in either Sydney or Brisbane at peak hour, then double it. There are so many boats on the canal it is more than a little bewildering. We follow the crowds down to the ferries and thankfully with our tickets already in our hot little hands, are able to queue for the next ferry down the Grande Canal without having to queue to buy a ticket first. Goodie - only one queue, not two! Its hard to explain the number of people. Personal space here is almost totally non-existent. People are on you toes, in your face, and no-one could care less. And the lines are thick with people who are chatting and gesturing in a very Italian sort of way! As the ferry arrives, even before it has unloaded its cargo of humans from the last trip, our crowd billowed forward, crushing us all even closer together.

We had no real plan in our mind for this afternoon and evening. It was more of an opportunity to get a first glimpse of the 'Queen of the Adriatic' and get our bearings for a full day tomorrow. But we did want to see some of the city, knowing that again, our time is so limited. Our ticket covers us for all the buses and ferries and so we hop aboard that next one up the Grande Canal with a loose plan to ride it to the end. But of course as Pont Rialto comes in to view we know that this will be our first stop. There are a number of images that come to mind when someone says the name Venice, and this is certainly one of them.

Pont Rialto, or the Rialto Bridge is the oldest of the three bridges that cross the Grande Canal. Originally built of timber, it caved in in 1440 and was rebuilt, again in timber with the addition of shops and a mechanism that allowed the centre to be raised to allow the passage of ships. The present bridge in its current form dates to 1592. There are now a double row of shops separated by an arcade from which you can walk out on to the terraces. And what do you think those shops sell? Well, there is Venetian Glass, Murano Glass and more glass and jewellery and masks and italian leather handbags and souvenirs and more of the same and more again. And their is a hawker at every door entreating you to come and see, genuine .... Its a crazy crazy place. I do see some stunning blue Murano glass that really takes my fancy, but heck, we are off to Murano tomorrow, so I'll try there.

We had dinner at the Ristorante Florida (what the???) where our very 'slick' waiter Hero spies us looking at the menu board that is advertising a three course meal ‘touristica menu’ for €14. Wow, that is way cheaper than anything else we have seen. As there are three options, we decide to go with one of each! No sooner is our order taken, than he sits down to eat his dinner and we appear to be forgotten about. It gets quite frustrating for a while. The prima plati (first course) arrives and we are really pleased with what is put in front of us. However, the second course is a little different and Michael who has chosed the Milanese schnitzel is presented with a flat piece of 'cardboard' which does little to sate his hunger. Thankfully he has the remains of Helen's fried calamari and my roast chicken to fill the hole!

After dinner we again join the Ferry to finish our trip along the Grande Canal. The light fades into darkness and a new face of Venice shines into the night. A cleaner more sympathetic one. Everything looks nicer by night here. The lights are reflected in the inky water and with the glow of the city, the uplit domes positively shine. We exit the ferry at the last stop of San Marco and look out across into the Bacino e Canale di San Marco across to yet another small pensinsula. But what a majestic site sits there - the Church of Santa Maria della Salute just before the point which is crowned with the Punta della Dogna with its tower that holds aloft a globe supposedly meant to bring good luck. Duty on goods arriving from overseas was paid at this point.

We need to be mindful of the time. While the ferries run late into the night, the buses back to Mestre are not so frequent and the last one is at 8:20 pm. So rather than rush a glimpse of St Marks, we decide that we will spend some time there tomorrow and reluctantly head back on the next ferry. Just as well, we managed to literally just squeeze on to the 8 pm bus. Tight like those five sardines squeezed into their little tin, I don't even need to hang on. I can't fall anywhere!!! And so, back to Hotel Adria, exhausted in mind as well as body.