On the great gelato trail

I fall in love with places too easily.

Most people, when they return from a wonderful holiday destination will think, ‘how beautiful, I must come back someday’. Not me however, instead I become so transfixed with the place that I set my heart firmly on the idea of living there.

Unsurprisingly then, I’ve returned home from Venice with my heart set firmly in the midst of its winding, ancient canals. I imagine how wonderful it must be to experience Venice in the winter, with mist clinging to each silent alleyway and the gondolas, with their ethereal grace, sliding over the dark waters of the canals. I imagine how glorious it must be to wake up in the glow of dawn and wonder to the Grand Canal, to watch the city slowly awaken and fill with life. Oh how delightful it would be, even in the height of summer when the air sticks to the skin like a damp shroud, to pick my way through the tides of tourists and to know that to them this magical place is a holiday destination, but to me, it’s home.

So that’s why I’m throwing all of my energy into finding an au pair job in Italy. I vowed  never to return to childcare (there’s a certain amount of tantrums and tears a girl can cope with in a year!) but if it means living in Venice then surely it would be worth it? Oh dear, my habit of falling in love with Italy over and over again is really quite inconvenient, a week ago I was certain that I would spend this summer earning real money and now I’m planning to whisk myself across Europe to work for 60 euros a week. I’ll never learn.

Well, perhaps I should now tell you about my trip to Venice, it was after all the trip that managed to recapture my heart.

The holiday began in the painful early hours of the morning  – 2:30 to be exact –  an ungodly time which saw Hattie and I rushing through the less than safe Elephant and Castle to catch our first bus of the day. Two more would follow, as well as a plane journey and of course a trip on a vaporetto (a water bus) when we eventually arrived in Venice.

Crossing the bridge connecting Venice with the mainland, I get my first glimpse of the city’s magnificent duomos and torres. Then, as the bus arrives in Piazzale Roma the realization hits: here I am, in a city that for centuries has been the world’s marvel. And it is instant love. I’ve been to Venice before and I thought that maybe on returning I’d feel bored of the city, but no. It’s a city that evokes the imagination, the heart and the soul, so how could a person ever grow tired of that?

After checking into our hotel we starting exploring by getting completely and utterly lost. It’s the only way in Venice, following a strict itinery doesn’t allow you to wonder aimlessly through tiny streets or stumble upon winding canals.

In the afternoon we took a vaporetto to Murano – one of Venice’s environs which is famous for its manufacture of Venetian glass. It was packed full of shops selling beautiful glass jewelery, ornaments and for those with deeper pockets, incredible glass chandeliers.

Afterwards we returned to the hotel where Hattie attempted to revise for a couple of hours. I’m not sure how well it went, I was trying to sleep at the time, although I do suspect more Facebook activity than work. A couple of hours later it was time for dinner, followed by a visit to San Marco square at night, where the facade of the basilica changes colour to an iridescent blue. So beautiful.

The next day was filled with more exploration combined with getting completely lost, although the two go hand in hand anyway so it doesn’t really matter. We went to the top of the highest tower in Venice where we could gaze over the maze of canals and out at the many islets littering the Adriatic.

So it was at 7:30pm that we caught our coach to the airport (well, just about, Hattie lost her ticket but we still managed to wangle our way on) and by 2:30am we were back home, in bed. Less than 48 hours spent in Venice, not enough but a still a wonderful little break away from London life.

To end I think I’ll leave you with a quote:

“To build a city where it is impossible to build a city is madness in itself, but to build there one of the most elegant and grandest of cities is the madness of genius.” ~ Alexander Herzen

Mad, genius and elegant: the perfect group of three.