Venice

In the increasingly drawn out and chronologically fucked up saga that is the story of my summer holiday, we have today come to the penultimate chapter: Venice. I went up there on the second Sunday in Italy to drop off my two Norwegian guests and to pick up Albie and Court. In addition I met up with an old friend from Norway, who was on vacation with his family at a camping place about an hour outside of town (a fate worse than death, if you ask me). We met in a restaurant a couple of blocks from St Mark's Square and the service was good, but the prices were insane.

I've never really had much interest in the place and now that I've been there I have even less. It contains all the things I hate in a city - a confined space, large amounts of people and obscenely high prices. In addition the sewage mostly runs straight out into the sea, so on hot summer days it stinks to high heaven (fortunately not while we were there).

I don't hate it quite the way I hate Vegas. I don't want it to sink into the sea, for example. Albie insisted that walking around the city in the wee hours of the morning was a very nice experience, but if you have to get up at 4am on a holiday, what's the point? Anyway, I think I can say with a degree of certainty that I'm never going back there. You can view all Venice pics here.

St Mark's Square with the bell tower. Notice the insane crowds. Lordy, how I hate people.




Some palace.


Another palace, pictured from the quay at St Mark's.


A big palace(?) thingy right next to St Mark's. Notice the deliciously tacky commercial banner on the right.