More Venice photos this time on the theme of ” Venice Views”.
This was the last morning of the Opel GT meet so everyone was going their separate ways after breakfast. Everyone took lots of photos and hugs goodbye were in abundance and then we were left at the hotel with our friend and host Norbert. Peanut finds goodbyes very hard these days and kept disappearing for a cry from time to time, but she always came back with her brave face on and brushed aside her sad thoughts. It was just too sunny, too lovely and too much fun for tears! Anyways, we had decided to have a quiet day with the minimum of driving before our long journey home tomorrow and with this in mind we were going to spend the day at Trauttmansdorff Castle which was in Merano. We had picked up a leaflet about this wonderful castle and garden in the hotel and as it had won the International Garden of the Year award last year we felt we had to see it. It was on Norbert’s way home too, so we convoyed briefly with him as far as the exit for Merano. And then we were on our own and the fantastic fun that we had had in The Dolomites with our Opel GT friends was behind us. It had been a thrilling, exhilarating couple of days enhanced by lovely weather, epic scenery and mind boggling driving. The memories will stick that’s for sure!
The castle was easy enough to find with several car parks to choose from. We parked up and walked down the road through arches of roses in full bloom to the information centre. While we waited to buy our tickets it became obvious that the castle doesn’t take card payments for entrance fees, which was both a surprise and disappointment because of course we did not have enough cash on us. Do we ever? I am still astounded that the winner of the International Garden of the Year doesn’t take cards but we had no choice but to leave and get some cash. So another short trip to Merano town centre for money, but with the advantage this time that we knew where the cash machine was. Pity that it was in a pedestrian area but never mind we were in Italy so we quickly drove in turned round, turned lots of heads with our Opel GT and then came out again.
Back at Trauttmansdorff for the second time and this time we were in. We had a quick look round the Tourism Museum, which actually was very interesting and gave us a better insight into the area as a whole. Italian territory but populated by German speaking residents, the South Tyrol is a very prosperous region. After the museum we decided we would eat before exploring the gardens. We chose salads for our lunch, a simple mixed for P and smoked salmon and asparagus for me. Really very nice and perfect before our walk around the gardens of Trauttmansdorff. We had a rather nice little map to follow and decided that as the gardens were also on a hillside and we were halfway up, we would start at the top and work down. We made our first stop a very imposing viewing platform which boldly protruded out from the side of the hill near the top and which was clearly constructed by a madman. Poor P was a bit nervous of even walking on it as it was a lattice of ironwork and you could see through it, but she braved it out and stood at the end, briefly, then scurried back to the safety of the path. It had a suspension style construction, giving movement to the platform too which was a bit unnerving. We meandered about searching out points if interest on our map and soon ended up by the lake, a centre point to the gardens nestling in the shadow of the castle high above on one side. Importantly, the ice cream shop was by the lake.. It was a lovely day and an ice cream in the sunshine seemed at good way to pass the time. The planting in some of the beds was quite astounding and the roses must have been at their very best. These gardens really were right up there with the best we have seen. Italy is famous for some of its gardens and I thought of some others we had visited on islands in the Italian Lakes and the Bobboli Gardens in Florence. This garden was just how I like mine – tidy, whereas the Bobboli Gardens looked a bit down at heel to me. The faded grandeur look so common to the Stucco houses of Italy had permeated the Bobboli gardens to my mind and had not done some gorgeous gardens any favours. These were immaculate in every detail and for me a joy to explore.
But all things must end and we needed to head back to our hotel for our meal. When we got back, we sat in the hotel garden and had some tea and thought that although we had driven through some beautiful scenery, there was nowhere more beautiful than where we were right now, with mountains, snow, pine clad slopes, meadows of wild flowers, a field of black goats with bells opposite us, a pretty village at the bottom of the valley and even a waterfall. It was simply perfect. And then I walloped Mrs P at the bar football we found in another part of the garden. Great fun!
We had another lovely meal and a spritz before bed, and up in our room we stood on the balcony and admired the stars.
The next morning we packed up promptly and were headed off for home by 10.30. We had been invited to stop at Norbert’s house near Lake Constance for a break which was a good place for our first stop. He and his wife Gudrun very kindly gave us coffee and tea with a lovely cake. I loved the randomness of our lives – I know let’s go to Norbert’s in Germany for lunch on our way home! As we sat in their garden, the sunshine faded and it began to cloud over, a thunderstorm looked to be brewing, so we said our goodbyes, made tracks and set off again across Germany to France.
It struck us as odd that we did not see any indication of where the borders were all the way from Italy through Austria, Germany and France. The only sign we saw was as we neared Austria telling us we needed to pay for a 10 day pass to use the Austrian motorways.
So we headed west into the setting sun thinking about our great adventure, and I realised I was about ready to go home now, with my lovely Mrs P beside me, the love of my life and the navigator of my dreams. Ready to plot and plan some new adventures and grab all the hours of fun we can find together. We were very content on that drive home happy with the knowledge that whatever happens tomorrow, we had today.
Let’s skip the boring bit and get to the good stuff. We all left together today with the idea that we will not be going fast. Ha! It’s a good job we have been MINI trained because a lot of folk would have just packed up and gone home with the refrain ‘It’s too fast’. I know because I have heard them in recent runs, sad things they don’t know what they are missing.
But there we were rattling along beautiful roads at great speed, curving round bends, hurtling through pine forests and generally having lots of fun. We did a few less passes as such but took more twisty roads through and along the sides of valleys. The scenery was simply stunning. We raced on and up to the Paser Joch where there was still 6 foot of snow. We were behind the Corvette with his 5.7 litres of muscle. We edged him on the bends but then we hit a very long stretch of long straights and gentle bends. The Corvette was in home territory and we hit speeds that were… Well right on the edge of being legal of course. If I say “flip that was fast” then I think you know I never said flip! This was an epic drive.
We paused at the top and a gaggle of Porsches raced up and roared to a stop. But they didn’t stop for long and soon roared off down the other side, I remembered one in particular as it had Martini stripes and really looked the business.
We cracked on and 2.30 saw us up the side of a valley having lunch in an outside restaurant with an amazing view of the valley below. What a simply lovely place! By this point though we needed fuel quite badly and as we left we were told the next stop would be for refuelling, but we should have asked where it would be, as our need for fuel was by now quite desperate. As we entered Merano our car started ‘pinging’ it’s fuel warning, a sign that the end is nigh, and as we had no idea where the fuel stop was we pulled out of the convoy and went to find some fuel in the town.
We soon found a garage, closed but self service, so fine. But it would only accept Italian cards, so much for the EU. So we drove on to the next only a few hundred yard further on and again, closed but self service, and only if you are Italian.
I suppose I should add that it would take notes, but in our usual fashion we had none of those either.
So I sent P off on a mission to get some cash. She soon returned looking glum. The Bancomat she found told her that my card was “not valid for International transactions”. Now this was a blatant lie and P was pretty sure we had used it many times before, but not on this holiday. But it didn’t alter the fact that essentially it had told her to clear off and she wasn’t going to get any money.
So faced with a bit of a problem we set off together back to the Bancomat where I tried again. UK bank no good, French bank no good, both saying the same thing. At this point I had to ring my bank in England to find out what was going on, which took an age, but he did confirm that there should be no problem and advised me to find another ATM.
So off we trotted into town and soon found the pretty centre of Merano with a river running through it, and a bank. We gave the card a try and whoopee! We had struck lucky this time and all was resolved. Our friend Andy had once told us that all stress situations could be solved with ice cream, it was certainly very warm and we were a bit hot and bothered, so ice cream seemed the obvious choice. Luckily the man in the kiosk didn’t mind changing a 50 euro note for two ice creams!
So back at the petrol station we filled up and got on our way. By now though we were a long way behind the rest of the gang, so we made our own way back to the hotel with the help of TomTom. He has been a life saver again for us, as he had been rather shelved with Sat Nav in the Coupe and on the iPhone, but he has come into his own this holiday and been a great friend. Heck we might even treat him to a map upgrade as a reward!
When we reached the hotel, Norbert rushed out to greet us as he had been a bit worried about us being out and about on our own. We explained what had happened and he told us that the fuel stop was about 100 yards after we had pulled out of the convoy! Oh well, we would never have seen Merano if we had stuck with them and Merano is quite simply a lovely and prosperous town.
Another lovely evening meal followed in the hotel and we enjoyed a long chat with Norbert. We then watched the European Cup Final and saw Real be victorious. Ronaldo scored a penalty, ripped his shirt off, pulled his face and flexed his muscles. I’m getting old because it just disgusted me and I wanted to give him a good slap! Grrrrr! Anyway, time for bed so up to the play room we went at the end of another stupendous day driving in the Dolomites. Goodnight. X
Today was a day out driving the GTs but we were not expected to be ready to rock until 10.00am so we did not have to be up too early. We had our breakfast at 9 not wanting to be the latecomers. There were to be two groups and we would be the second car in our group behind our friend Norbert.
We all set off together and I had a shock at how fast we went down the single track road straight out of the hotel! Very soon we had separated into two groups, which made more sense in this terrain. The rules were simple, no overtaking other GTs, look out for the person behind and don’t lose them at turns. The pace was very fast but I loved the chance to really drive the Opel. Being left hand drive you just can’t chuck it around as well in England. The traction control was coming on at every bend and slowing me down exiting, so I quickly turned that off and after that I made a reasonable effort of keeping the English end up against this gang of enthusiastic German drivers. After about forty minutes of this intensive driving, we realised we had lost the chap two cars behind us, who was in a Corvette. He had definitely turned the corner but was behind a truck, and now he wasn’t!
So we slowed down and Norbert, who was leading, went back to see what was wrong. He shortly returned and told us that the Corvette had lost its braking ability and needed urgent attention, certainly no possibility of it continuing the trip. We made the decision to finish the run that was planned with just us and Norbert, while the other two GTs stuck with the Corvette and guided it to a Corvette garage. When we returned to the hotel we found out it was air in the brakes but it was fixed and he was ok for the next day.
After carrying on, we soon found ourselves at Canazei which was the base for the 2007 Dolomites trip that we did with a gang of MINIs planned by our pal Wigley and it was very strange driving past the hotel we had used on that trip, as it wasn’t a place we ever thought we would get a chance to go back to. We drove up the Pordoi pass and then the Sella and some parts did seem familiar. It was great fun to drive the Opel at such speed on these roads. It was staggering how fast it picked up speed but also how well it did the bends. Driving the car on the right side of the road, this left hander does not feel as wide as it does back at home. We had a few photo stops, actually some at places we visited with the MINIs but the weather wasn’t great and it was quite cold up there and still very snowy.
So after a lunch stop in a handy village which saw us eating soup and pizza, we were off again and this time we led so that Norbert could get some footage on his Go Pro. It seems such a long time since we were hurtling around mountain passes and hairpin bends and I had forgotten how much fun it is, and the scenery in this part of the Dolomites is quite stunning. P meanwhile had assumed that brace position known and loved by all high speed passengers, one hand on the door rail, the other on the middle and both feet wedged in the footwell, it all came back to her quite easily. We both noticed though that the Opel is a comfier ride than the MINI is. There is no roll at all, the suspension does its work in the bends, while the car just copes with the potholes. Neither of us expected to be so impressed. The MINIs handling is superb maybe a smudge better but if so not much and there is a high price to pay in lost fillings!
After lunch the weather got slowly more cloudy and the threat of rain, which had already raised its head at some of the earlier passes, became more of a reality and we made the decision to put our roofs up just in the nick of time, as it began to pour down for a short while.
We got back to the hotel just as the other group, who had already returned, were washing their cars. There is no slacking with these folk and they like their cars to look good after each days fun, So naturally, I dispatched P out to join them in the cleaning ritual.
Later we had our usual tasty dinner and then there was the promise of The Garage. It would appear that underneath this hotel is a garage with a pit that they tinker and play in on the Friday night of these trips. With a tray of Ramazotti to keep the brains well oiled the evening went very well and the garage itself was not only huge but full of the most marvellous array of bits and pieces, and was every handyman’s dream. We now realise that we need a big brake kit, chrome alloys, a Magnaflow Exhaust and an Opel load of stick on bits for the inside and out. It is a sad fact of life that my virtual wallet is bigger than my actual wallet!
Eventually though the concrete floor made my chemo battered feet ache like mad so we said our good nights. I dreamt of razzing round some glorious mountain passes in a sexy red sports car with a fit bird in the passenger seat and realised my dream had come true!
We managed a very organised exit from Venice, as all went to plan, nothing got messed up, no surprises and we were packed up in the car and ready to go by 11.15. It was how far to our destination? Ah yes, our destination, where the devil was it? Somewhere in the Dolomites wasn’t it?
Indeed it was, as we were off to meet a bunch of crazy Germans who had Opel GTs like ours and who were spending a few days exploring the Dolomites. However, we had forgotten to add the address to good old TomTom. P hastily searched through emails to find out the one which we had been sent with the GPS co-ordinates in. She put them in and hey presto, there it was 248 miles away. No idea where it was but it looked like it was north east of Trento so that would do. It was kind of exciting driving to a set of gps coordinates somewhere up a mountain!
Off we went with the plan of only stopping for driver changes until we got there. The idea was that first there would get the best room so we would aim to strike a blow and steal the best room for the Englanders. Again, all went well and about 2pm we arrived at our hotel. After we got the key to the (best!) room and unpacked we were very hungry and so we ordered a little snack to eat in the lovely garden looking at the snow covered mountains across the other side of the valley and listening to the waterfall cascading down the mountain side, there was no doubt it certainly was an idyllic spot to have a holiday. We felt we needed to fill the car with petrol for the next day as these efficient Germans would no doubt arrive with full tanks. So we rushed off to the little garage we passed a mile away in the village and while we were there we washed our little boy so he wouldn’t look mucky when he met his new friends.
While we were there our German friend Norbert, who had invited us to come along to this Opel GT meet, drove past us and popped in to introduce himself, but we were mid wash cycle by then and couldn’t really chat properly. We soon caught up though when we got back to the hotel.
We met the rest of the Gang as they slowly arrived, speaking varying amounts of English and us speaking no German at all. It was exciting as each Opel GT turned up, all roaring up the mountain with their customised Magnaflow exhausts and open air filters! When they were all here we had black ones, red ones, a yellow one, a grey one, a navy one and a Corvette that was pretending to be an Opel GT for a few days! There are only two Opel GTs registered in the UK so I had never seen so many in one place at one time. I was like a pig in muck as I revelled in looking at all the mods and graphics, the alloy wheels and big brake kits, the lowered suspensions and so on. Ours on its original wheels and suspension looked like an SUV next to this lot!
Aperitifs and nibbles were to be served in the garden at 6.30 which sounded very civilised, so we disappeared up to our room to freshen up and chill until then. It really was a lovely room, a lift to the second floor and then it’s own staircase leading to the room, which had a nice living area as well as the bedroom. The balcony view was stupendous and explained why this was called the Panorama Hotel!
Aperitifs allowed us to meet all the gang, who were a good bunch and enjoyed laughing a lot, though inevitably it was easier to talk to some than others due to the language difference. Norbert though was a smashing host and we were made to feel really welcome. Our evening meal was very nice indeed, with a help yourself salad style thing to start with rather like they have in a Harvester, but without the naughty bits. Then a small dish of basil noodles which were delicious. Pork steak with chips and vegetables followed with fruit of the forest strudel and ice cream, which tasted of Christmas Pudding with raisins in. All yummy and very welcome and to cap it all, as we ate we watched a deer scamper down the mountainside in amongst the wild flowers. It was very Sound of Music! This was the perfect place for a gang of car lovers to use as a base for touring the Dolomites and I was by now really looking forward to the driving that the morning promised. And so the evening ended and we climbed upstairs to our suite in the attic, with our own balcony and two mountains of marshmallow duvets.
We decided to get up earlier this morning to avoid yesterday’s chaos in the breakfast room, we sat in the quieter second room away from the kitchen but to be fair, the whole place seemed more relaxed and organised today, which was no bad thing. The coffee was still lovely.
We had tickets for the Doges Palace so we thought we would get on with that while our feet were relatively fresh. We couldn’t have an audio guide as we had no ID, that’s an odd arrangement and seems quite French to me, not at all Italian. But we enjoyed our tour and P did her best to read everything and tell me the best bits. It is seriously impressive and we had no idea how organised the democracy of Venice was, or that they had their very own FBI/state police long before anyone else. I suppose it all stems from Venice being derived from a band of crooks and thieves, so they were very well aware of just how corrupt people could be!
After the State Rooms we went down to the prisons and obviously over the Bridge of Sighs, where prisoners got their last sight of the outside world before being locked away, often until they died! Finally we felt we had done enough culture and we left and began another ramble to no purpose through the narrow alley ways of Venice, stopping for a spritz and to buy a pretty handbag for P, which caught our eye in a shop window. We continued on to the Piazza where we had lunch last time we were in Venice, and were entertained by an amusing street artist impersonating Charlie Chaplin. He wasn’t there this time but we were happy to watch the world go by. Later on our wander we stopped for an ice cream – Italian ice cream – delicious. On the way back P spotted some shoes she liked but when she tried them on they weren’t comfortable but meanwhile I had spotted some leather gloves in the same shop. They were in a lovely green colour and fitted P like a… Well a glove – she was doing very well today!
We intended to get another of those lovely watercolours we saw by the waterbus stop at St Marks, so we headed in that direction, finding out after we had got there and chosen one, that we didn’t have enough cash on us to buy it. So I sent P off to the Banco to get some dosho. She was gone ages and I was beginning to get concerned when she rushed back and explained what had happened. Cue drama…
It seemed that after she had started her transaction the ATM had a fit and told her to remove her card but didn’t spit it out. Then it announced it was broken. It was only 4.10 so she thought she would go in the bank and explain and maybe they could get her card out. But she couldn’t get in, and while she was wondering why the door wouldn’t open, someone came out and told her it was shut for the day. She explained her plight and he went back in and got someone to help her, as they had only been shut 10 minutes and were still there. So she got in and a very kind lady fetched the card out of the machine.
This could have been a disaster, as we were leaving Venice the next day and the bank would not be open in time to sort this out before we went. But we are finding the Italians very helpful and pleasant as a rule, if you exclude the stressed girl in the breakfast room. Had this happened in France I have no doubt this would have turned out very differently.
Anyway she got her breath and wits back (breath definitely) and then rushed off again to find some money elsewhere, which she did, and we bought our picture. That was enough excitement for today so we headed back to our hotel to give our feet a well earned rest. We had chosen our restaurant for our last meal “That nice one by the side of a canal” as P said. Well that was very descriptive, it certainly narrowed it down a bit in Venice, but I knew where she meant and more importantly, I knew where it was – no mean feet as the alleyways can get very confusing. So that was where we headed and for dinner at the waiter’s recommendation we had two types of grilled fish which he expertly filleted at our table, so we only had a few bones to contend with. A few roasties accompanied the fish and it was delicious, aided by a full bottle of wine, which is a lot for us these days over a meal.
Time for our final cocktail in Venice, which had to be a Bellini. We stopped off in the same swish bar we had the spritz in on Monday night, which had by now been designated our favourite bar. This Bellini was beautiful, and I mean delicious in every way. It was made with a fresh peach liquidised and the glass topped up with Prossecco and it smelt divine. It was a great way to end a short break in Venice, and was further proof that we still have unfinished business in this magical place. I mean heck, now we have a local there…
We didn’t trouble ourselves to get up early and ended up going for breakfast at 9.30. Our hotel has no breakfast room so we go to the bigger hotel (part of the same group) just around the corner for our breakfast. It’s kind of weird as it is only thirty yards away but we end up window shopping as we saunter to breakfast. It was bedlam in there and I am quite sure anyone could have walked in and helped themselves to a breakfast for nothing, as we were never asked to identify ourselves.
The one poor girl who was clearing tables,filling baskets with croissants, replacing cutlery, maintaining the coffee machine and generally directing traffic, was stressed out of her head as the room was full with breakfasters and there were 6 or more waiting. There was much crashing of plates and marching about at speed, bellowing “Permesso” or whatever the Italian is for “shift ya butt”, to all the customers who were moving about getting their buffet breakfast. But we soon managed to get ourselves a seat in the corner and tried to keep our heads down. To be honest loud bangs and clatters really stress me out and I felt sure she was deliberately clearing tables in as noisy a manner as she could. Put simply she was getting on my nerves aka tits. Hell a noisy coffee machine can send me over the edge so this girl was really doing a fine job. However, slowly the place calmed down, it emptied a bit and the waitress seemed to calm down too, and slowly so did I, but I made a mental note to sit in the quieter room adjacent, the next day. Breakfast itself was fine by the way. My cappuccino was delicious and is the first coffee I have ever had out of one of these infernal coffee machines that was actually hot!
Fat and full with breakfast we gathered our bits and set off for the day with no real plan. We popped into the Tourist Office to ask about a Secret Itineraries tour of the Doges Palace, but decided in the end that life was too short to queue in the tourist office and the weather too nice to remain for as long as it was taking.
About midday we stopped for a drink but we were not yet ready to eat, so a Spritz filled the gap and gave our legs a rest. We had lunch later by the side of the Grand Canal which looked very pretty but was in fact windy as the dickens and we had to move to a warmer table. Even then it was still very windy and P got quite cold, so it took her most of the rest of the afternoon to warm up. Odd really because it was a beautiful day. Lunch was pizza and pasta, with the pizza being placed in front of me. The Big C reared it’s ugly head over lunch as I found that my hands just did not have the strength to cut my very belligerent pizza. Instead of swapping plates, so that P could cut the pizza, she stood over me and cut it up. This made me feel very silly, probably because I was touchy about the lack of strength in my fingers and I got a bit upset. But hey this was Venice and I was sat opposite a beautiful girl, so I had a word with myself and slapped my smilie face back on. More walking, more ice cream until eventually we were back by the gardens at the St Marco waterbus stop and we saw some lovely small watercolours that we felt we must buy as a souvenir.
By this time my feet were aching off and burning up like you wouldn’t believe. It was mentioned that one common effect of this chemotherapy was that my feet might get very hot. I have always had tender feet but all this walking we are doing has really taken its toll on my tootsies. I left P to see if she could get tickets for the tour we wanted at the Doge’s Palace, while I went back to the room to recover.
She came back with tickets for the Palace tomorrow which means we don’t have to queue, which is great, but the Secret Tour was booked up until next month so looks like we’ll have to book online and come back again for that, Damn!
A long rest was required before I could venture out upright again, but finally we set off to find a suitable place to eat our evening meal. The problem with there being so many places to eat is that you don’t really know what you are getting until you have got it. The meal we ended up with was fine don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t great even though the establishment was Trip Advisor recommended, but we enjoyed ourselves and drank our wine.
Wandering back through St Mark’s square again we stopped to listen to the musicians who were playing at the Cafe Florian and they were having great fun entertaining the many onlookers who had gathered round and were being encouraged to clap with the music. A lovely way to end another lovely day in Venice – a place we have really taken to our hearts.
We were away from Brescia very promptly, all paid and on the road by 10.00, heading on the autostrada to Venice. The car park at Piazza Roma in Venice was already paid for, so we went straight in and were told to go to level 7. Gulp! The Opel is not a car you would choose to drive between winding car park levels and the only good thing about it was that we weren’t at level 8. We got ourselves parked up, unpacked all our luggage and baulked at the prospect of transferring it to the hotel. Last year when we came to Venice we just brought luggage for our three day stay in Venice, this time we had all our luggage for an 18 day holiday! Also due to the Opel having less than perfect boot space, we use holdalls, rucksacks and messenger bags, rather than suitcases. We just had one small wheeled case that sat behind whichever seat Peanut was sitting in, in the Opel. This was going to be a bit of hard work.
P had one bag over either shoulder, a small wheeled case and a small bag to carry and I had another bag over one shoulder and a big bag to carry. So when the lift eventually came and there was a family with a buggy in it already, presumably from level 8 we had to decline and wait for it to come back! Once out of the multi storey we trundled across the Piazza Roma to the waterbus stop, quickly found out which waterbus to catch and bought our tickets.
It was only a couple of minutes before it came and we were treated to a cruise down the Grand Canal to the San Marco stop that we needed. It was a bit of a walk to our hotel, last year our hotel was right in front of us as we got off the waterbus, but this time it was a good 500 yards away on the other side of St Mark’s Square. We made it ok but I won’t deny it was 500 yards of heavy lugging – well so P said anyway!
We quickly unpacked and began to reclaim the wonders of Venice and it was like meeting an old friend. Lunch beckoned so we meandered up the small alley from our hotel and soon found a pleasant restaurant. We chose a prawn cocktail for starters with spaghetti carbonara and pizza to share for our main course. We started talking to an American couple on the next table to us who were in Venice for one day before beginning an Adriatic cruise going to Athens and Istanbul and back. He worked for the US Government in Washington so God only knows what he does, he must be a spy we decided. Still, good company during our lunch.
After a brief exhibition of Italian stress, as the owner of the restaurant had a row with some chap who apparently repeatedly takes a short cut through his restaurant with his dog and feeds him leftovers he finds on the way through, we bumbled on in no particular direction. I had felt sorry for this poor chap as I recognised a fellow stress-head and felt his pain, so I went out of my way to tell him how much we had enjoyed our meal at his restaurant and this seemed to put the smile back on his face.
As we meandered through the narrow streets, I bought P a Murano glass pendant just because it caught my eye – it was in a vivid green and a perfect match for a gorgeous green dress, I know P had brought on the trip as I had watched her lug it across St Mark’s Square to our hotel! To ease our aching feet, we stopped for a drink and grabbed a bit of free WiFi before heading back to our hotel. As our lunch had been very late we realised we wouldn’t be needing much in the way of dinner. So we passed the time in our room, brave P washed our dirty undies, while I caught up on a Midsomer Murders episode dubbed into Italian, quaintly called Inspetore Barnaby (well we watch Inspector Montalbano so why not). So our first evening in Venice was quite like home really.
However, we did make the effort to go out and have a spritz and a hotdog, which was all we needed. The nice thing about Venice is that you can mooch about for hours doing nothing because it is beautiful around every corner, but Venice by night is also a wonderful place and is lit up just where it should be, and with the music in St Marks Square to fill your head it is all perfect. Even the sight of some dodgy bag sellers scampering from the cops with their armfuls of fake Gucci bags just made us smile. To be serious for a minute, while on this trip I am also taking my chemotherapy tablets, three after breakfast and three after my evening meal. On this holiday then I seem to be washing my chemo tablets down with a spritz every evening! No one has ever said I can’t take them with a drink consisting of Campari and prossecco! However, in this swish bar we had ended up in off St Mark’s Square, I had left the tablets on the table for a while, because I was chatting to an English couple behind me, who were enjoying a Bellini and a piña colada, and I was being nosey about what they were drinking. Peanut told me the barman was disturbed by my tablets on the table – clearly we looked like a pair of merry pill poppers – so I necked them down quickly to get them out of his sight!
My eyes not quite level, we crawled back to our hotel at the other end of St Mark’s Square. Yep it’s easy settling in to the life in Venice. Goodnight x.
After a lazy morning we opened our blinds to another beautiful day and today we wanted to get back into town for 11.45 for when the Mille Miglia Piloti returned. As we got into Piazza Duomo the tables we had seen last night were now all laid out for lunch and the tented kitchens were busy cooking. We were trying to make out from which direction they would come back in but as all the stewards were wandering about in vague Italian style it was almost impossible to guess.
A visit to the Chopard stand, with a few overt checks of the time on my Chopard watch blagged me a Chopard cap, but the aftershave I really wanted was reserved for race participants and they just would not sell them at any price. I think Chopard missed an opportunity there as I think they would have sold loads of them.
Eventually, we decided the race drivers couldn’t come through this piazza as it was full of tents and with nowhere to go, they couldn’t parade through the town like they did when they began the race, as that bit was all set out with tables and chairs again just as it usually is. So the only place left was Piazza Vittorio and there did seem to be a few more stewards there than anywhere else. It was strangely quiet for quite a while after 11.45 but eventually we heard that familiar rumble of vintage cars through old narrow streets and the first drivers arrived to a cheer.
We found out later when we followed their trail, that of course the finishing line was on the same raised plinth they had set off from, right on the other side of town, and then when they had finished they stopped all over the place to meet friends and relatives, drink champagne, phone their mates and do all the other essentials of life. We mixed in amongst them as we did at the start of the race and let the jolly atmosphere rub off on us. It really was fun and hopefully when we get back home we will have snapped one or two good photographs to remember this by. When they had calmed down the drivers jumped back in their cars and paraded through the town again, often with mates perched in odd places on the backs of cars all waving wildly as they were cheered past every bar and restaurant. We also had lunch in a restaurant by the roadside and joined in the cheering as the cars tooted and roared by, in between mouthfuls of pizza! Finally the cars ended up back in said Piazza where in the end they were all parked up. It made me smile that they were all given a metre square piece of card to catch the oil leaks so the Piazza didn’t get spoilt and indeed there were many leaks in many places, and the Piazza will still need cleaning!
We picked up a few more souvenirs including a MM race book which would be fantastic if we understood Italian, maps, t-shirts and scarves but stopped short of nicking the MM banner that was attached all round the barriers, although many richer than us didn’t demonstrate such scruples.
As the afternoon passed the cars and drivers slowly disappeared and by 7pm Brescia was back to it’s normal self, it’s four days of glory over for another year. After changing and freshening up at our hotel we had a meal in town and it seemed impossible that only the night before the town was heaving with people, bustling with an atmosphere the like of which I don’t think I have seen before, with all the restaurants full to busting, and tonight it was deadly quiet.
So that was it, the wonderful spectacle that is The Mille Miglia was over for another year. If you ever get the opportunity go and watch it, it really does amaze you. We were sad that it was over but luckily we had a cunning plan to cheer us up – tomorrow we were heading off for Venice for three days of relaxing in that beautiful city. Hate me don’t ya just!