Ilze and I have spent two days in Venice now. Rescued Debbie and Ian from the Vaporeto stop last night after they flew in from Zurich and poured them into bed.  Woken at 7am by the bells from the local campanile.  What’s with these religious fanatics banging on first thing in the morning to get you out of bed before the first coffee shops are open?  We thought we had left all that in Istanbul.

The Campialle San Marco

Speaking of Istanbul, I was prepared not to like it much but found that I did.

Speaking of Venice I was prepared to like it a lot and find that I don’t.

Our apartment is wonderful, the food is glorious, the navigational challenge is outrageous and the sense of history in such a confined area is simply stunning.

Just anothe canal somewhere

The respect that the Venetian people and the authorities show is shamefully lacking.

Ilze and I sat on a Vaporeto stop waiting for Ian and Debbie and watched a procession of beautiful, young Venetian girls going home from work, Gucci, Prada D&G, you name it and three in a row, stepped off the wharf  and onto the Vaporeto after throwing their cigarettes into the canal.

The greatest shame was one of the most recognizable icons. The Rialto Bridge.  A fine piece of marble work, covered with graffiti, not you original Italianate or Roman, but your modern spray painted rubbish.

Venice’s shame

Defacing of public buildings is a universal problem, but in a city promoting its buildings and culture, not to have in place the ability to rapidly rectify this is a crime.  They charge enough, to visit museums, public toilets, so money should not be an issue, the will to do anything would seem to be missing.

The greatest shame is that in messing around with the computer I have seemed to have deleted two word files containing Ize’s blogs for the last two days.  She is not speaking to me, I am off to sleep in the broom cupboard.

Peter