Rested and cooled, we decided to venture out into the evening twilight to have a look around – the day tripping tourists had left and while the place was still busy, you could wander the streets and alleyways without feeling like you were going to be bowled over. I was actually a bit surprised – my first trip to Venice had been in winter – February) when the streets are a lot quieter during the day. It was Carnivale though so Venice partied into the night. Admittedly this was a Sunday evening but I thought Venice would have been jumping. The northern twilight (while it didn’t last quite as late in Italy) made Venice pretty special in the early evening. The subtle light set off the canals beautifully and yet another myth was busted – it didn’t stink – except of the ocean when a breeze blew through from the canals.

Our first stop was on the canal near our hotel for some of the best gelato I have ever tasted – I had limone and Dan had chocolate. It was a little hole in the wall establishment, like many that you find in Venice. We wandered along the canal eating our gelato in the most Venetian of traditions – I even had a 50s style strappy sundress on that made me feel like I was in Roman Holiday or something.

We wandered along the well-trodden path to the Rialto Bridge, passing street vendors selling, masks, Murano glass, tons of crap with gondolas on it and all manner of hats. The closer you get to Rialto, the more expensive the shops get – curb side marketeers turned into the Disney shop and high end Italian retailers. I did spy one or two shoe shops that I was keen to revisit the next day. I know, I know – you don’t go to Venice for the shopping but there were sales…

One day I’ll go on holiday and not get sick. Travelling with a fractured foot clearly wasn’t enough. Since our second day in Dubai I have been battling a cold- I thought I was losing my voice the day before the wedding – it held out but it is still quite raspy and punctuated by an impossible to get rid of cough. And of course by the time we arrived in Venice I had shared the love with Dan so he was getting tired and was keen to have some dinner and call it a night. (The State of Massachusetts – Dropkick Murphys – A rollicking tune that could well have been written in Ireland in the 1800s, is actually a modern tale of struggle in modern-day Boston)

It was then we broke the two golden rules of dining in Venice. Don’t eat anywhere on the popular tourist route, especially anywhere close to Rialto Bridge or San Marco Square. And don’t eat anywhere with laminated menus. And those rules held true – Dan had an underwhelming lasagne and I had seafood pasta with the world’s tiniest prawns that had obviously been frozen in a block of freshwater ice which had left them with no taste whatsoever. Lucky it was cheap (even though they add a service charge to the bill to stop tight-arsed Australians (and probably I’m guessing Russians) from scrooging on the tip. Although the Italian girl behind us clearly didn’t think it was cheap enough. She had a ten minute argument with the waiter about what she was going to pay. I think she just wore him down in the end. The entertainment over, we headed back to our luscious hotel room and planned a generous sleep in.