Venice (Again)

Ciao ciao

Firstly, apologies for the delay in posting - travelling combined with lack of internet cafes made it impossible to provide any update on our whereabouts...

Florence was divine, darling, with plenty of culture and family visits to keep us occupied! The first culture fix came in the form of the Uffizi Gallery, which we visited on Saturday morning en masse, avoiding the (literally) mile-long queue by booking our tickets the day before. We chose the perfect day to go, as the rain was coming down in buckets.

The Uffizi is huge, with an enormous collection of Renaissance paintings and classic sculptures, so we opted for audio guides to help us on our way. As there were a few of us, we opted for 'shared' guides, which meant being connected via two headphone sets and a thin wire, and a necessity to 'stay together'. Not as easy as it sounds, when the two headphones decide on different directions - there were many wives being jerked backwards by determined husbands and vice versa.

Also, when at maximum stretch, the wire between the two becomes taut, and is a lethal obstacle for any vulnerable necks passing by. Hence, an unfortunate Japanese tourist almost became a garotting victim between Philip and Mina, escaping considerable injury at the last minute. So, for your future reference, beware the headsets of the Uffizi.

The art was fantastic, with works by Sandro Boticelli (The Birth of Venus - amazing close-up), Leonardo da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Raphael, Giotto, Titian, Caravaggio.. It took a good two and a half hours to complete the main collection, so sore feet and aching legs ensued.

In the afternoon, P,M&L hired a car and visited the family in San Piero a Sieve for supper - we stayed behind to make the most of being in Florence, and visit the sights. However, the weather did not agree, and proceeded to empty the skies with great abandon, thunder crashing and lightening lighting up the wet cobbled streets - by the time we had left the hotel, dressed for the bad weather, both the Duomo and Medici chapel were closed, as was the market we were going to visit. Still, we found a nice self-service restaurant to have some food in the evening, with friendly waiters and delicious meals.

One handsome waiter in particular seemed very helpful, clearing our plates and trays and visiting our table every five minutes to remove a single glass or can at a time. He asked at one point where we were from - we answered 'England' and he professed that he would love to visit the country but that he didn't have the time. He left, we continued eating. Five minutes later, he returned, and stood, rather nervously, next to A, obviously having plucked up the courage. "I've never danced with an English girl.." he began - we nodded, smiled, replied 'oh, really?' in a confused fashion..

Then he leant in close to A, gazed into her eyes and.. "especially not one with as beautiful eyes as yours...". A, not having heard him, nodded and smiled politely at her admirer, at which point he bobbed up and down nervously and walked quickly back to his counter. As we walked out, he smiled and winked at A, declaring obvious love and affection. Italian men are so smooth...

We all spent Sunday with the family in San Piero a Sieve, eating ridiculous amounts of food at lunch and supper - lunch consisted of a starter of liver crostini, followed by tagleatelle, then pork, roast potatoes, faruna (guinea fowl), tomatoes and cucumber, four different kinds of cake, fruit, then coffee. Phew! You need an appetite to eat in Italy. Especially eating with a family, and an aunt (who cooked the entire meal) who cries 'Mangia! Mangia!' (Eat! Eat!) if you so much as slow down your pace. Don't come to Italy if you're on a diet...

Early Monday morning (very very early), Lydia flew back to England from Pisa airport, which proved much more straightforward than getting from England to Italy. We spent the day exploring Florence in the sunshine, and visited the Cappelle Medicee (Medici Chapel), part of Basilica di San Lorenzo (one of the largest/oldest churches in Florence) which houses the tombs of a number of the Medici family, as well as Michealangelo statues. It's unfortunately being restored at the moment, so a number of aspects of the interior were covered by scaffolding and statues were removed. Still, its a very impressive interior, with a high domed ceiling painted with images from the Bible.

Spent our last Florentine afternoon in San Lorenzo market, which sells clothes, bags, touristy tat, and is packed with all nationalities under the sun. Bought a great book in the international bookshop near the hotel, called 'Watching the English', written by a female anthropologist, and documents 'Englishness' in a very humerous way, and the fact that other nations, primarily Americans, don't 'get' us. (From the way we talk about the weather - "What foreign people don't understand is that we're not talking about the weather when we're talking about the weather.. its a form of social grooming" - to mobile phone/home/work etiquette) Every American should own a copy!

However, obtaining the book proved stressful. Having spotted it a few days beforehand, we went back to the shop to buy it. The space it had occupied was empty, so we assumed we were too late and that it had been bought. A suddenly spotted that an American guy was holding it, along with a few other books, and asked if we could have a quick look. He immediately started singing its praises, calling it 'brilliant' and that we should read it sometime. Handing it back, we wondered if he was buying it or if he hadn't yet made the decision.

So, for the following 10 minutes, we proceeded to covertly follow him around the shop, James Bond-style, eyeing his handful of books, hiding behind book rails and stands. Eventually, he disappeared from view, so we asked a cashier if they had any other copies. They said no, that they only had the one, and we pointed to him as he suddenly came into view, and we (the two of us and two cashiers) watched him intently as he wandered around the shop. Suddenly, he began to put the book back on a shelf, so we all 'oohed' and 'aahed' as it got closer, further away, closer, as he tried to make up his mind. After lots of 'oohing', he put it down, we cheered very quietly, and H plus one cashier, crept around the side of him to nab the book before he changed his mind.

All booked up, we travelled back to Venice yesterday by train, and immediately on arrival, P&M made their way to the beach to catch a couple of hours of sun - the weather forecast here is appalling for the next couple of days, so we need to make the most of the heat! We sat on the public beach for an hour or so, watching performances on the sand by amateur dramatists and dancers (yesterday was Feast of St Mary - an important public holiday in Italy), amid classical music and Jamaican instruments. It was a great atmosphere.

After supper in a pizzeria by the hotel, we made our way to a cocktail bar by the water, which is usually a very chilled out place to have an evening drink, with candles and fairy lights, and relaxing music. However, last night, there were celebrations, a party and a DJ, with people dancing everywhere and empty glasses of champagne, so we decided to gatecrash and drink up the atmosphere.

It turned out to be a very entertaining evening - as well as young, there were older dancers, women in their seventies, gyrating their hips to 'Rock around the Clock', swivelling their legs and risking their hip-replacements. A particularly energetic 60-year old in a bright red, short dress, red patent heels and curly blonde hair was the highlight of the evening, jumping out of her chair and dancing with great enthusiasm (very well, in fact) with eyes closed and arms in the air, next to her table, for four or five songs in a row, before sitting down again and her chair collapsing under her. She was then dragged to the dance floor by a hairy Italian.

Another couple, in their fifties and Dutch, gatecrashed shortly after us, holding ice creams they stood stiffly watching the action, with slightly twitching hips. As the music got older, and more their style, they loosened and began to jive, still stiffly, bouncing off each other with each beat. But as soon as 'I Will Survive' began to play, the husband pushed his wife away, puffed his chest out like a peacock, and turned into the Duracell Bunny, marching on the spot, hands flailing, bum wiggling, very serious expression on his face. This also continued through The Village Peoples 'YMCA', and he became camper each moment that passed. Poor wife, he was still jumping around when we left, and she was bobbing stiffly by his side.

And so we get to today, a wet and dreary day, with no prospect of the beach so far, so we are going to walk the streets of Venice, possibly find a hairdresser, window-shop and hope for better weather tomorrow. Oh and a Belated Happy Birthday to Big Al (did send a text yesterday, hope you got it) and hoping that you're all well with better weather than us!!

Will blog soon (hopefully)

Lots of love

A,H,P&M xxx