Venice, home at last

I have to say that the days and nights we have spent here in Venice have truly told me that I have been here in a former life. I have never felt so instantly at home.

We have walked miles, the downside of the city is the fact that the bridges do wear your feet down, and while the water taxis and Vaporettos get you from major place to major place, it is the tiny back streets that hold the magic. Once away from the thousands of truly tourist shops (even those hold a level of intrigue) we have seen tiny antique shops and art stalls, and trattorias filled wtih sandwiches. I had coffee at the (reportedly) first-ever coffee shop in Venice, off San Marco, built in 1720. Our hotel was built in 1600, and is only feet away from Piazza San Marco - where one evening we danced while the orchestra (one of thee taking turns playing) played on.

Two days ago our hotel arranged a private boat to take us to Murano, and to watch the glassblowers at work. We walked to the Rialto and got into our launch to sail off up the Grand Canal under the Rialto bridge. Having seen the glassworks in Washington and Oregon and had our own hands on blowing pipes only a few weeks ago it was fascinating to watch these men who had apprenticed at 12 turn out the delicate pieces of a large chandelier while our guide explained the history and chemical differences of the Italian glass.

After a fast walkabout the city with guide who pointed out the major sights and laced them with bits of history (who knows - or cares - if they are true) We visited the Ducal palace yesterday - a champion feat since it includes a walk through the "new" prison from which Casanova escaped, and crossed the Bridge of Sighs twice. More stairs! We also visited the exhibit here of Sargent's Venetial paintings, on loan from around the world, most of which have not been back here in over a century. We had a lunch of Prosciutto (here it is "raw ham") and melon, relaxed for while and went walking around the area a bit more. We have been in two hotels here, the first being the Bonvecciati - a very beautiful old hotel to which we arrived by private water taxi from the airport and debarked onto a set of stairs rising out of the water ton the doorstep. The second is the Villa Igea which is on Campo Zaccharia, inside the gate of the former Convent where (again) notoriously Casanova left his mark. Directly across the square is the ancient 10th centuryBasilica of S Zaccariah, father of John the Baptist, where for a small donation (okay the monk grabs you if you try to make your way without making the donation) you can pass behind the door to the sacristy to see the huge paintings by Tintoretto and Canova, and then down a narrow set of stairs into the crypt, it is dark, vaulted, and flooded, you walk on a raised wooden platform, to see the casket deep in the recesses.

Last evening we went to a concert, in an old chapel off St Marks to hear a performance off Vivaldi, featuring the Four Seasons. It was very special to hear it in the city where it was written, and coincidentally I today found the curch on the GC where all Vivaldi's music was first performed, as wella s a smallre church behind where he had been baptised. We spent this morning at the Accademia, one of the finest collections of Renaissance art in the world, then took a long walk to La Fenice, the opera house which burned in 1996 but which has recently been fully rebuilt and restored. After lunch at a cafe, Mary and I walked back via Santa Maria and relaxed a bit. While mary put her feet up I walked to St Georgio, a greek enclave which boasts a remarkable museum of Cretan icons.

Tonight, we have decided to relax and just enjoy the smell of the air. We have tickets to the Opera, Madame Butterfly, but frankly the walk is considerable and since we are leaving tomorrow for our next destination decided that we'd rather enjoy the sunset over St Mark's.

The one thing I will say is that there has always been this comment that the sky in Venice is different than anyplace else, and I have to admit I have eschewed it as romantic claptrap - but I have found it to ber true; on a warm eveing like this, the air (which is notably humid) forms a mist that connects to the ever-present fluffy clouds, causing the setting sun to cast a pink and green glow to the sky that somhow melts perfectly inyo the marble and stucco city. I have sat wondering if the colors of the city were created top match the sky, or if the sky is reflecting the colors of the city. Nevertheless, the sight of the Winged Lion aginst the pale sky is truly a wonder of the World.

We are off to buy a mask forMary and then to buy a little dinner. Ciao Bella.