Sorry in advance for the odd spellings bound to occur in this post, I#m writing from a German keyboard where the y and z are swapped round and there are a lot of ö and ä situations. The hotel in Venice didn't have much in the way of wifi, and it turns out it didn't have much in the way of air conditioning either. The day we got to Venice was one of those muggy days before a storm hits and, exhausted by the evening, we sat in our room watching the fan with dismay as needlessly spun round, providing absolutely no relief. The heat got to us very quickly, Hannah questioning whether we would actually survive the night and the rest of us nodding solemnly. Yet again we found that our hotel\hostel had stashed us on the top floor, luckily there's no elevator to hyperventilate about - just a rickety banister and a set of receptionists that seem willing to let anzone into any room without actuallz checking they're booked into the hotel - even to the extent of offering us someone else's passports. Naturally we felt really secure and safe there.
Aside from the hotel, Venice itself is ridiculous. Every building is different from the next and the streets wind round each other so that when we tried to get home we ended up in the exact square we started in. On the way home I the streets were irrecognisable to eyes just 3 hours older and the music that had previously drifted from the accordion player was taken up by a violinist by the next time we passed by. Venice is a place where 'I did it my way' follows you around every corner, interrupted occasionally by 'It's now or never. The nuns sell biscuits and the gondoliers sit by the canal arguing (or what seems like argument - may just be passionate Italian) in their matching stripes. When we got back, it was strange to think that the canals were still so near, the gondolas tied up for the night and the boatmen were winding their way home.
On our second day in Venice the temperature had dropped and we bumped into a gondolier called Victor, eating grapes on a bridge. Although Amber broke a bit of the gondola, it was overall a beautiful trip around the city, albeit slightly tipped to one side due to the weight distribution and narrowly avoiding parts of a crumbling bridge falling onto us. This was exactly what I thought Venice would be like - twisty canals commanding the houses around them and old men drinking coffee from doors that opened into the water. The boatmen calling to each other and stopping to have a chat whilst blindly negotiating the edges and bridges with ease.
If you're going to Venice I would strongly recommend you to read 'The Passion' by Jeanette Winterson before you go. It describes the city and its secrets perfectly and left me almost searching for the fictional characters with every maze of streets I saw. Also make sure you get air-con so that you can avoid the feeling of impending death and comic hysteria that overcame us during the first day. And beware of the signs that point both ways. X
Sorry in advance for the odd spellings bound to occur in this post, I#m writing from a German keyboard where the y and z are swapped round and there are a lot of ö and ä situations. The hotel in Venice didn't have much in the way of wifi, and it turns out it didn't have much in the way of air conditioning either. The day we got to Venice was one of those muggy days before a storm hits and, exhausted by the evening, we sat in our room watching the fan with dismay as needlessly spun round, providing absolutely no relief. The heat got to us very quickly, Hannah questioning whether we would actually survive the night and the rest of us nodding solemnly. Yet again we found that our hotel\hostel had stashed us on the top floor, luckily there's no elevator to hyperventilate about - just a rickety banister and a set of receptionists that seem willing to let anzone into any room without actuallz checking they're booked into the hotel - even to the extent of offering us someone else's passports. Naturally we felt really secure and safe there.
Aside from the hotel, Venice itself is ridiculous. Every building is different from the next and the streets wind round each other so that when we tried to get home we ended up in the exact square we started in. On the way home I the streets were irrecognisable to eyes just 3 hours older and the music that had previously drifted from the accordion player was taken up by a violinist by the next time we passed by. Venice is a place where 'I did it my way' follows you around every corner, interrupted occasionally by 'It's now or never. The nuns sell biscuits and the gondoliers sit by the canal arguing (or what seems like argument - may just be passionate Italian) in their matching stripes. When we got back, it was strange to think that the canals were still so near, the gondolas tied up for the night and the boatmen were winding their way home. 
On our second day in Venice the temperature had dropped and we bumped into a gondolier called Victor, eating grapes on a bridge. Although Amber broke a bit of the gondola, it was overall a beautiful trip around the city, albeit slightly tipped to one side due to the weight distribution and narrowly avoiding parts of a crumbling bridge falling onto us. This was exactly what I thought Venice would be like - twisty canals commanding the houses around them and old men drinking coffee from doors that opened into the water. The boatmen calling to each other and stopping to have a chat whilst blindly negotiating the edges and bridges with ease. 
If you're going to Venice I would strongly recommend you to read 'The Passion' by Jeanette Winterson before you go. It describes the city and its secrets perfectly and left me almost searching for the fictional characters with every maze of streets I saw. Also make sure you get air-con so that you can avoid the feeling of impending death and comic hysteria that overcame us during the first day. And beware of the signs that point both ways. X
