Don't rock the boat: Venice

The Bridge of Sighs - the prisoner's last walk
from the Doge's Palace to the prison.

We started out very early (7:40 AM) for our long coach ride to Venice today. As we traveled I noticed that every inch of reasonably flat land is cultivated with sunflowers, grapes, olives, tomatoes, artichokes -- all manner of delicious comestibles. Our route took us high up through the Apennines along some scary switchback roads, across the River Po into Northern Italy. It was a feast for the eyes.

We spent almost all our time in Venice on the water, in water taxis or gondolas, and walking around St. Mark's Square. There were more people than pigeons, if that gives you a clue as to the crowd levels.



I did buy Murano glass, in jewelry form, as gifts for a couple of lucky people, as well as a mille fiori necklace for myself and a cheap watch decorated the same way. Our tour consists of long days with many checkpoints, and being able to gather with the others at specific times is crucial to the smooth continuation of our experience. So I felt the watch was a more than acceptable expenditure.

Basilica San Marco

I am writing this from my room at the Principe Hotel in Venice, an old building with excellent amenities. I just wish someone would make it stop rocking. The Grand Canal is just outside and you will not convince me that the land doesn't move with the water.

A word about my fellow travelers. I am the only single person on this tour, and the other people have been incredibly kind, inviting me to sit with them for a meal or to join them in any activities where we need to subdivide into smaller groups. I was overwhelmed today just before the gondola rides when we needed to form groups of six ... clearly as the odd man out my presence seemed somewhat problematic.  But not a bit of it. I immediately received no fewer than five invitations from other couples to join them as part of their gondola group. It was quite embarrassing to have to turn so many of them down! But my heart was secretly bursting with gratitude at the kindness of these relative strangers; and now, my friends.