Venice, 8.5.-11.5.

The train is way overloaded. They used to put up little paper notes saying which places are reserved and which aren't, but now they did not and we got booted out of our places. Sitting in the corridor all the way, along with a zillion of other people. Some unlucky souls are trying to pass through.

Venice has a big canal zigzagging through it, and buses running along the canal. They are boat buses, and they aren't cheap (5 euro for a one-way ticket), or fast.

There really aren't any cars. Oh well, Benka said she'd seen a couple of cars in there somewhere 10 years ago. "No cars" does not mean "people who don't live there are not allowed to drive into the city", but literally no cars. Everything is done by boat. Boat buses, boat taxis, overpriced gondolas for those who like to travel in style, boat police, boat ambulances, boat deliveries. I hate to think what boat firefighters have to go through if the fire is far away from the water. Or how these people move from one apartment to another.

The city is very beautiful in a toy medieval way, sort of like Verona or Brugge but much bigger. Or at least it feels bigger after you get lost often enough. Very labyrinthy.

We get out of the bus and call the hotel so they'd come and get us, because they said they can't give directions because it's too complicated. I am not sure what's so complicated about "go straight ahead, take the first bridge to the left, then the next bridge right after that, turn right right after the bridge and then first left", but that's just me. The hotel is on the fifth floor without an elevator - Benka believes in healthy exercise - and breakfast is brought to the room every morning, which means that one of us has to be awake and reasonably decent (as in, wrapped in a towel) every morning at eight-thirty. Guess which one it is.

The room has a TV, which Benka of course wants to watch all the time while we are in the room. Neither of us have any experience with a European digibox and we can't get it working. Eventually we realize that the remote control just doesn't work, and find BBC ny hand, in time to see Ismail Haniya complaining about finances and evil people who don't want to give him money. "We will not be told what to do! We are free and proud people who will not give in to anyone's blackmail! Please give generously.".

San Marco square is very different from what I expected, I think because most photos I've seen were from the canal side. Very beautiful in any case. The cathedral is light and fairy-taley on the outside, dark and golden on the inside, and not very big.

The square is full of pigeons and people who want us to feed them. I don't understand why. Doesn't everybody hate pigeons? Eventually we see that people put bird food on their arms and head in order to get pigeons to sit there, and take pictures. Eeeew! If a pigeon sat on my head the next you know it would be one very dead pigeon (and then I would probably be arrested for animal cruelty). The square would be lovely if it were not so pigeon-infested and is in fact lovely in the evenings when the pigeons and pigeon-feeders have buggered off.

One really dumb pigeon flies into my leg and looks like it got a concussion.

The square also has a tower with wonderful views and an elevator.

Rialto bridge is quite nice but I am not sure why it is so famous. We buy some tomatoes from the guys who try to forget to give me part of the change. This is the only time anyone has ever tried anything like that on me in Northern Italy.

They sell underwear with a picture of a dick in the appropriate place. I consider buying a pair for Killeri and then think better of it.

The second day is rainy and we explore the Doge's palace. Kiva työsuhdeasunto. After that we walk around in a rain, going to our hotel for a nice cup of tea every few hours. The TV says some volcano in Indonesia is about to erupt and Benka gets all excited. She likes volcanoes for some reason. She was so disappointed when we went to Etna four years ago and it totally failed to do anything interesting, except setting one newspaper on fire, and that only if you throw the paper in one particular place. Personally, I think that when a volcano starts doing interesting things it should not be observed from up close.

On the third day we explore the ghetto. It is really The Ghetto, the original one from which the word comes. We take a guided tour of the synagogues, which are very interesting-looking, pretty and somehow Venetian, but don't bother with the museum. There is a little store near the synagogue where I buy myself a new Magen David and Benka buys me a mezuzah as a housewarming present. Now I gotta figure out how to attach it.

After that we just hang out and look at the city. It's beautiful, again, and hard to navigate but we are not going anywhere in particular. One good navigation aid is the price of Venetian glass jewelry in stores: the higher it is the closer you are to San Marco square.

Italians have a great invention: a self-service restaurant. I mean they have them everywhere but in Italy it's good and cheap and the meals are not all put together in advance but you combine the stuff to your liking. Great way to get our regular seafood salad and grilled eggplant.

I really should learn to grill the damn things at home.