Venice

What words can describe your first trip to Venice? It was out of this world. Trying to find your way round the maze of streets, while the map in your hand shows you a different planet; the smell of the canals; the noise of the cargo boats and water taxis hooting as they approach the main junction outside your window at 7am; the sunshine during the day, and the persisting warmth at night; the colours of the fading and peeling stucco; the grandeur and the shabbiness side by side; the shops; the wells; the bridges; the sheer variety of door knobs on faded, ancient outer doors; the contrast between the heat in the streets and the coolness of the interiors; the lofty ceilings; the absence of cars, buses and bicycles; the porters transporting everything from toilet paper to flues for central heating in a return to mediaeval working practices [nice legs on them though!]; the lilt of Italian; the silence in the squares during the heat of the afternoon when Venetians retreat inside for a siesta leaving the streets to the mad tourists; the craft workshops tucked away in narrow streets where the artisans can be seen working; the tacky tourist tat on sale at popular tourist spots; the sound of accordion music drifting through the night as a gaggle of gondoliers come poling down the canal singing 'O Sole Mio'; the crush on the last water bus of the evening; the mosquitos feasting on me every night; pasta in all shapes, sizes and colours unheard of in the UK; icecream that is out of this world; sharing it all:

The illusion was shattered on the return to UK. We left Venice in 27C, it was raining and 12C at East Midlands! Welcome back to Britain...