Sunday: The last day in Venice was very, very windy. It was the type of windy where you felt you could run twice as fast, or fall back and have the air hold you up for a moment. Nevertheless, we vowed to make the most of the final day, and we began with an early lunch at a restaurant that came highly recommended. It used to be a jazz club, but after the residents complained about all that wild music and loosening moral standards, they converted it into a restaurant (with liv

The morning after is the dread of the night before. Sitting upright can undo all the goodwill and happy memories, as your head collapses in on itself and you decide teetotalism is the only sensible option. Fortunately, I avoided living death for another morning. Unfortunately, one of my friends did not. Fortunately, Italian culture allows for slow mornings at a coffee shop, so we found a small café and feasted on croissants and espressos. Unfortunately, we had an appointment

The next day the clouds were spitting, struggling to rain. We went for breakfast at a small coffee house on the corner of our street. It is a terrible curse to visit anywhere in Italy and not be enthusiastic about coffee. It meant I missed out on a much-celebrated cultural touchstone. Then again, I did enjoy the foodstuffs they served, and they had English Breakfast tea, so it could have been worse. Arancini are wonderful little balls of cheesy goodness that I would encourage

After an early start and a neck-breaking sleep on the plane over, I was standing at the dock waiting for the ferry. Late February felt more like mid-December as the wind and rain buffeted the poor souls that morning. When the boat finally came I could barely feel my toes anymore, and only warm company kept the blood flowing. Company took the form of a worker for UNESCO called Melissa, who was more than happy to show me around a few places whilst I was there. We planned to mee