Part Two
Once out of the bus station we're struck instantly by Venice. It looks, frankly, magical and most superlatives don't do it any justice at all. It is exactly how you'd imagine it to be from all the films, holiday programmes, documentaries - everything. Roads and alleys are bisected at every point by the sea, small bridges joining them. The water laps gently against the stone-walls of houses and boats gently and quietly glide down them. The weather is perfect, a slight chill in the air but not too cold. The sky is bright and the atmosphere is extremely clean - the air wonderfully fresh. Occasionally while on a bridge there's a pungent waft of foul seawater, but this is few and far between.
We quickly realise that Venice is most definitely a city to get lost in. It's impossible to move anywhere in a straight line - pavements stop suddenly, forcing you to take a narrow (four feet or so) path to another thin cobbled road, and are then presented with further pathways leading in all directions. It's very quiet, even at this early Friday evening stage, and more often than not we find we are alone walking along streets in subdued lighting. It's ridiculously evocative and I fall in love with the city in a matter of minutes. You see pictures of roads here and think that the photographer has skilfully masked out to the side the unwanted uglier details - but no, everywhere you turn and look here you see fabulous architecture and unique imagery. And of course, because of the lack of cars, it's perfectly silent. Most of the time we could be wandering through a small village at the dead of night, certainly not one of the world's most famous cities.
All this is well and good (lovely in fact), but we're supposed to be trying to find our hotel, not admiring the ambience. We realise after half an hour of focussed walking in a vague direction that with the unavoidable twists and turns at every juncture that we are by now completely, and irrevocably lost. Worse than that I have by now completely mislaid my normally reliable sense of direction. I try buying some cigarettes and asking the lady the a) where we are and b) where we should be going. She doesn't know the hotel but roughly points out where we are. Not apparently far to go, so we continue walking. Another half an hour goes by and we're still lost. We could be anywhere now. We ask some more people - they don't know. Unfortunately very few Italians here seem to speak English and I feel like throwing away my Rough Guide in frustration and break down sobbing as it appears we're going to be stuck here all night, only to be found in the morning looking like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining. There's little we can do but continue to wander - there are no handy taxis at all. Damn these walkways! Our bags are getting heavy and my back's starting to play up.
Later still we come across a newsagent and manage to buy ourselves a proper map of Venice. We gleefully return into the night only to find out that I still cannot find the hotel on the map. I am, however, vaguely able to work out where we are and we wander slowly and tired back to the bus station, having eventually done a full circle. Thankfully there's a tourist information board here and the guy there speaks English, knows the hotel and is able to point is in the right direction on the map. Literally five minutes later we stroll into the hotel, exhausted after our enforced tour of the northwest of the city that's taken us some 90 minutes.
The hotel Al Sole is a lovely surprise, flamboyantly designed in marble and wood, overlooking one of the many smaller canals, and gratifyingly has english-speaking concierges. The room is a simple affair though, but for two short nights that's not a worry at all and all is fine, save for the half hour lie down to recuperate my back.
We head out later for a snack and a further wander around, heading down to the southern area of the island over the Grand Canal. Again this is really easier said than done - we are constantly forced to retrace our steps, backtrack and try another direction to get to our destination. The city is an absolute maze, and we rapidly find this to be one of the sheer joys of coming here. Getting lost is in fact a pleasure - every turn and corner holds something new - whether it be a dead-end, an opening into a courtyard or another canal blocking our progress. Sometimes an area will be simply a splendidly craftsman-build section of flats or a small selection of enticing shops (especially the gorgeous looking patiseries). Now that we have no worries about time or destination the whole experience is fun. Learning the intricacies of the layout of Venice must be akin to London cabbie gaining their 'knowledge'.
Eventually arriving at the Rialto Bridge, one of three bridges connecting the two main areas, we cross over to the south side of the island. It's here that the more commercial area of shops, restaurants and hotels lie. However, the city is refreshingly free of big-name franchise stores. Sure there's the usual McDonalds, Burger King and Disney Store, yet these are most definitely the exception. Most of the shops are smart clothes stores, delis and various attractive shops including a few selling nothing but handsomely bound journals (Italy being the origin of my leather journal). After a quick stroll around getting our bearings (or some semblance of such), we head back in the direction of the hotel, soaking up more of the atmospheric ambience in the backstreets, stopping for a couple of welcome Hoegardeens before turning in for a reasonably early night ready for a full Saturday exploring.