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After being late and hacked off with last night we have a lie-in to recharge ourselves. After breakfast Ali rescues the clothes which were dumped on the ground and is mildly pleased that only a small bundle needs re-washing. Nick investigates routes for the great escape; Austria, Switzerland or France.
Around midday we head up to the bus stop, ride into Venice and board the No.1 to San Marco, otherwise known as St Mark's Square. The boat is never more than a third full and when we disembark the square is similarly free of people as we make our way in bright sunshine towards the Doge's Palace. We don't want to queue for any length of time so Nick tries to shortcut the system by asking the man at the pre-paid entrance about accessibility. Result; he shows us into a separate ticket office, and says Nick goes free and Ali will pay €6.00. But when she asks for tickets, which incidentally cover 11 museums, she is given two zero charge. The Doge's Palace evolved from the 14th C to become residence, parliament, court and trading centre of the Venetian empire.
We start in the courtyard, a peaceful cloistered square of marble with ancient 'bottle-glass' leaded windows above, before asking a curator and then being escorted to a lift. We are led through a few short corridors to enter the lift, which we exit just outside the Senate Room. This room, about the size of a tennis court, as high as it is wide was the meeting room where finance, foreign policy and manufacturing were discussed. The marble floor is bordered by two long rows of wooden seats, with a further row at one end beneath the throne, but the most striking feature is the ceiling; huge gilded carvings with huge paintings filling in the panels.
The plainer Compass room, where wooden compasses were first used as a symbol of justice, is where those who were summoned waited for sentencing. Doors lead to the Bridge of Sighs and the Censor's staircase.
We make our way from room to room, calling on curators for the lift when needed, spellbound by the opulence and craftsmanship; paintings, portraits, carvings, furniture and huge bronze candle standards. Many of the rooms have gilded and painted ceilings like the Senate. One long room, sala dello scudo, is dominated by two globes, each about five feet in diameter which sit side by side. Around the walls are large maps of the world, Mediterranean sea and the Venetian empire.
Some windows are open giving great views over the other wings or the domes of the Basilica.
Back outside numbers are growing but it is still easy to see the sights relatively unobstructed.
Every so often we stand aside of, or plough right through, the inevitable tour parties all obediently shuffling along behind their guiding umbrella, bat or flag.
We stand in front of the Basilica looking at the bright mosaics and the chaotic roof decoration made up of items captured and stolen from all over the empire, making it a grand scale trinkets cabinet.
As we walk through the square music drifts out from the bandstand of one of the prestigious cafes. White-coated waiters serve the drinkers and eaters treating themselves to one of the must-dos' according to a number of tour guide-books. We don't feel we 'must do' it but curiosity has us looking at a menu. Coffee €6.00, wine €7 says Ali, that's not bad. Nick is reading another part, cover charge, €6, music €6, can't see a charge for fresh air but it'll be there somewhere. So, two coffees, delivered to a linen covered table by a man in a white coat and sipped gently in the sunshine for a maximum of one hour, listening to a clarinet rendition of Girl from Ipenema is already up to €36. There are plenty enough couples sitting there with their €40+ of must-do but we could have a Venice T-shirt each, and a pocketful of change and still listen to the music.
We head into the back streets where there are shops selling glassware, artworks, puppets and dolls, Armani, Prada, Gucci and a few selling sandwiches to take away.
Returning to St. Mark's we pass the famous Florian Cafe, its open windows giving good views of the red velvet banquettes and gilded mirror walls and ceilings.
Last night just before the hails, we promised ourselves dinner at Omnibus near Rialto so we catch the boat there just after 18:10. Approaching the terrace we see all of the empty tables are reserved, but we wait around and soon have a place. We are joined at the next table by an American student and her Dutch father and have good conversations over our meals. Meanwhile 18-20 Japanese, obviously on a tour, arrive, eat and leave, but not before the ones standing to go are surprised by the arrival of their desserts. It's hilarious as they stand scoffing ice-cream and bundling the remaining bread rolls into their bags before following Madame flagpole along the quay.
The last of the gondoliers are rolling out the blue canvas covers for the night and by the time we finish it's dark and the lights are twinkling warmly across the canal, a stark contrast to last night.
We say goodbye to our Americans and take the boat back to P.Roma and the bus stop. When the bus arrives Ali asks to check our stop is right but our driver, Mr.Grumpisi, shrugs and tells her he no speak Inglise so Nick has to show himself at the door to get the ramp out. As we approach the stop Nick hits the bell, the bus stops and the ramp comes out, and in, and out and so on a few more times then the doors open. Nick looks at the gap between bus and kerb, and shrugs. Yammering in Italian; Shrug. Other passengers impatient. Italian passenger translates 'It's broken'. Nick says the step is too high. Passenger translates to driver. Mr. Grumpisi has to leave cab and round up two other male passengers to help lift chair, Nick and a very nice meal off the bus.
It's the sort of Justice the Doge would have been proud of.
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