On the train I was sitting next to an Italian lady of the ‘destra’ ( the right ) who, ignoring my rather patchy Italian, asked me when the train arrived at her destination. Having established that we could communicate, she then complained bitterly about the immigration situation in Italy. Followed that up with more a about a black Ministra de Qualcosa (Minister of something) who had brought in a law where you no longer have a father or a mother, but Parent 1 and Parent 2. What was that about? Gay rights? I am not sure but the Signora of the right didn’t like it.
Venice. Walked our feet off. Walking and snapping, walking and snapping. Having found the Rialto Bridge, we found a place nearby and stopped for lunch. Salad Nizzarda. A place where I could sketch the view across the canal and we could rest our feet.
My only purchases in Venice, with all the temptation, were a few handblown glass beads, and some letterpress bookmarks. (This seems to be the Journey of the Bookmarks). A bit footsore, we made our way slowly slowly (piano piano) back to the railway station via a gelateria, um two gelaterias. Due gelaterie. Dark chocolate and stracciatella, apricot and ‘special with biscuits’. Another stop was for a cold coffee, not an iced coffee, a cold coffee, but it hit the spot. And then a beer while we waited for the train. Late back to Bologna, and a molto interessante bus ride back up Via Indipendenza. Sandwich, wine, bed.