Culture, In Venice?

Sunday 22nd July

Ok so it was halfway through my Abi’s trip and we’d only done beach and bars. As you can probably guess a cultural trip to Venice was on the cards. Although I say cultural, it didn’t quite turn out that way. Still it did not involve any sand so it was definitely a different day for them

We cycled from the campsite to the ferry port. I thought it best NOT to tell the girls it was a good 10km. After all I’m sure they wanted to get their money’s worth from the bike hire, and I’ve never been a fan of waiting on the bus in traffic, I always end up being stood next to the bloke talking to himself who has forgotten to wear deodorant. Anyway 45 minutes of cycling later we found ourselves waiting for us boat to take us to Venice. 

The first boat to arrive was the boat which took the long route, via Murano and Trepporti but as I had never been this way and I had been told it was pretty, we decided to jump on it. 1hr and 15minutes later I think we all regretted this hasty choice. I have since decided that the quick boat offered me all of pretty views I needed. And usually with a lot more room to move around. The boat was packed and because it was so packed, I guess I should be grateful everyone had remembered to use ‘Sure Antiperspirant’ as the boat smelled quite fresh. However we were forced to listen to the tales a Canadian dad was telling his son ‘Michael.’ Michael asked some very intriguing questions, such as ‘What’s that wooden thing over there?’ and ‘why’s there a building on that island’, and ‘why is it falling down?’ I must admit if I hadn’t of been worried someone would have stolen my seat, I would have been sat on the edge of it for the full hour and a half!

Anyhow getting off on the northern side of Venice we all needed a wee so off we went in search of a place to relieve our bladders. Turns out public toilets are very hard to find in Venice, VERY. Thanks to the wonders of sign postage though we stumbled across a Venetian Hospital. It looked dilapidated in parts; it had an actual bar inside and about 20 more cats than I think hospitals should be allowed to have but not a toilet in sight! After a looooooooooot of searching, and back tracking, we eventually found a toilet and we could start to enjoy us afternoon in Venice. What a shame I didn’t take a picture of it.

Venezia Ospedale (Venice Hospital) It looks a bit like BirchIll :-)

Lots of wandering around, lots of posing for pictures on bridges. We managed to find a random church which looked pretty enough for us to have pictures with. I wish I could tell you the name, but I can’t. Trying to find anyplace which looked even slightly familiar we stumbled across a square with a little band playing and a group of local children playing football.  

Some Church

A bridge? In Venice? Really?

I don't think they knew any Dolly Parton

Turned out the square was quite important for our day in Venice because Vicky got her first picture of a gondola driver, stripy top, hat and all! Never one to waste money on frivolous things we got ourselves a couple of slices of pizza and kept exploring the city. Saw Rialto Bridge, Bridge of Sighs, St Marks Square blah blah blah and I did my best tour guide impersonation, despite knowing far too little about the place to actually be employed as a tour guide. I think if people could actually understand what I say, I’d be good at that job.  At some point whilst I was doing this I had started to develop a craving for a nutella crepe. And it was getting stronger!

I had to have one.

Searching around Venice my need for a crepe had spread into Abi and Vicky and we all wanted our fix. It took us an hour. An hour of walking around every back street asking every food seller if they did crepes until finally out search was over. I learnt something that day, Venetian’s don’t make crepes in the summer, totally bonkers idea to me; apparently visitors to Venice are only able to eat crepes in the winter. It’s no wondering the countries on its knees. It’s bad enough there are hardly any Chinese restaurants over here but to not be allowed to eat crepes in the summer, I think it’s scandalous. Sadly we never got a crepe that day (or since actually). We wandered of back towards our ferry home, buying tacky souvenirs along the way, preparing ourselves for our 10km treck back to the campsite before we would collapse in bed, exhausted. It’s amazing what a bit of culture can do for you. And I’m sure I would have thought it all worth it if I had had a lovely nutella crepe