Letters from Venice.

Camping Italia, Venenzia... 

and so the Gellini’s story continues as they head north to Venezia and the Lido di Jesolo, a spit of land to the north of the city.  Venice you may ask – why, to re-visit the romantic location of Kev’s 'proposta del matrimonio', although it wasn't quite the same picture in 35 degree heat with 3 ‘rug-rats’ at heel!!!

We arrived at Italy Camping Village in Cavallion-Treporti on 17^th June.  Apart from the shocking state of the roads (the IoM should be very proud of the condition of their roads!), spotting the occasional lady of the night (I didn't realise they still made shocking pink Lycra mini-dresses) and the amazing number of bridges to get travellers across the network of lagoons, the drive from Ravenna north along the Adriatic coast went without a hitch.  The mood in the car was happy and care-free, with windows down and ‘Virgin Rock’ playing on the radio in the front of the car whilst ‘How to Tame a Dragon’ was showing in the back.

Camping Italia is the smaller (and cheaper!) sister site of the enormous 'Union Lido' which has 2200 tourer pitches alongside their camping village and hotel!  Having arrived around half two it was still siesta time (1-3pm) which gave us a bit of time for a look around.  It was all very leafy, well laid out, lovely pool and much to BAT’s excitement had a large water slide.  Having plumped for a site Kev and Ben headed off to get the car and caravan whilst Ames, Tom and I bagsied our space.  We should have known from the large, red raspberry-type fruits in the tree above our head why this site was vacant, but it seemed such a lovely spot and only some 20 metres from both pool and golden sandy beach.

The air was warm and heavily-scented, you could hear the sea and all around came voices from different countries: Italy, Germany, Netherlands...  We were befriended by the lovely older couple opposite, from Hamburg, who spent 3 months every Summer in Italy then up to the Baltic Sea for the next 3 months.  They shared stories, mixed nuts and raisins for our ‘cards nights’ and gave Amy a lovely shell necklace ‘the eyes of Santa Lucia’ which is supposed to bring the wearer good luck.  All the people we encountered were so friendly and engaging, it really encouraged you to try harder to speak their language.

It was a fantastic, relaxing, chilled-out week where we mosyed from our pool, to next door’s pool with its ‘lazy river’ or the other large pool complex with its own beach and slide.  I spent mornings doing aqua-fit and zumba-sessions and evenings on the beach doing pilates... but my goodness it was hot. 

Day one it was high 20s but with a pleasant sea-breeze, by day four it was reaching 32-33 degrees, the breeze was non-existent and the humidity had greatly increased.  You couldn’t move without perspiring and at night (in the van) with 5 hot bodies and no air moving naturally it was desperate!  We did pinch the children’s fan once they’d gone to sleep but it was hot hot hot!

Anyway.... as I said at the start of these Venetian ramblings, the reason I really wanted to head north to the area of Venezia rather than south to the hills of Tuscany and Umbria was to re-visit old haunts: the Pont du Vin just off the Piazza San Marco and see the domos full of eastern promise and the basilica’s glittering facade.

We left Punta Sabbioni on the public ferry-boat ‘Poveglia’ with a day-ticket in order that we could jump on and off the local transport into whatever porto took our fancy.  It was another stinking hot day and the Italian style caramel-coloured dress that I’d bought not 2 days previously in the local market (and looked so nice in the mirror at the time) clung to me like a rag!

However it was bliss standing at the bow of the boat en famille as we headed towards the sky-line of Venice and sailed up the Grand Canal.   

We berthed just by the Pont du Vin, but convinced that the bridge had been further away from Saint Marks Square (what did I remember I was young and in love!) I made everyone trek over several bridges along the lagoon before announcing that no Kev, you were right all along, it must be back the other way!  In that heat I can assure you that the tribe were non too pleased.  We did however eventually find ‘the bridge’, took some photos and went on our merry way with the hundreds of other people into the square.  

The basilica is stunning but I also loved the beautiful old cafes with their billowing white canopies that come out over the square to provide diners with some shade.  We managed to escape the throng fairly easily and threaded our way down alley-ways selling gellatos, Murano glass, masks, beautiful jewellry....

We stopped for lunch in a quiet square (no billowing canopies for us!) and shared sandwiches and pepper crisps without trying to attract the attention of the local pigeon population, although we had Tom to shoo them off when required.

From Venice we took the boat to Murano.  If you want to purchase that fish-bowl your parents had with a cat looking wistfully into it, then Murano is the place for you!  No, no joking aside there were lots of lovely shops selling exquisite glass-ware, but when you have 3 young children and a husband who doesn’t 'browse', I would head to the next fishing village of Burano instead.  This is a gorgeous spot with the houses washed in bright, bright colours: reds, blues, yellows, pinks, ochres and lots of little squares onto which restaurants spill out.

After a week of sun and sand and sea and general cavorting around, it was time to pack up and head for the hills and Largo di Garda.  Having spent just 2 nights previously on Lake Como on our last sejourn (we were beaten off by gigantic killer mosquitoes) I was a little apprehensive, but oh how wrong could I have been.

Ciao for now!