We all flew from Split to Venice.

People whinge endlessly about Venice being too touristy and crowded. But they are wrong. It is those things, sometimes – but – it is easily the most beautiful, romantic city in the world. It is unspoiled, uncontaminated beauty. There’s no Starbucks or billboards or traffic or 80’s-90’s architecture. They have the most beautiful churches and architecture in the world. Gondolas. Bridges. The colors. It is 100% unique. What other city can you say that about?

The light is hazy and pastel. Every direction you look makes you sigh. No matter how well you think you might know it – or how convinced you are you know where you’re going – it is a maze of tiny alleys and bridges, all opening onto exquisite piazzas and squares you’ve never, ever seen before – even though you’d swear you walked this way 10 minutes ago.

The apartment we stayed in should really have its own blog post. An old lady called Luna rents it out. And it looks like she just walked out the door that morning. Or is maybe hiding in one of the many secret rooms or cupboards. (Both children slept with lights on because its undeniably haunted). The place was renovated in 1904, probably by her grandparents and nothings been touched since then. The building itself is maybe 500 years old … amazing parquet floors, giant wooden carved gorgeous furniture, stained glass, balconies, yellow silk upholstered suites, faded wallpaper, family portraits. Gothic. Fascinating. Slightly spooky.

The food in Venice (and all of Italy) is always amazing. You’re working very hard to find a shitty meal. Even in Venice – which is so touristy.

The Bienale was kind of underwhelming this year. Maybe I’m just getting jaded and bitter and spoiled. But it was pretty meh. There’s two parts. The Giardini was lame this year. Arsenale was pretty good (Italy and China and NZ being the stand outs for me). And Damien Hirst and the YBA had an amazing off site show which was spectacular. But then it couldn’t not be with the money behind it.

And more food. And food and food.

And early evening aperols in squares by canals, with balmy breezes and happy people.

And then, suddenly, Molly turned 14!! She could choose to spend the day anyway she wanted. (Shopping / gelato). And so we ignored her and had a spectacular lunch in an ancient restaurant over looking St Marks Square – which was all about Mummy and Daddy eating and drinking what they wanted all along –  a degustation of truffle themed dishes. And a Sicilian wine that was incredible but I forgot to write down the name of it. Bum. And I had a little tour through the kitchens which was very cool.