Everything was pre-organised. Paros-Rafina ferry, the hotel in Rafina which included the shuttle to the Athens airport, the flight to Venice, and the hotel. It’s always good when it all works. Of course, there was the confusion getting to the old monastery/hotel in Venice and that is never a lot of fun when you are carting luggage, and it doesn’t help when Casa San’Andrea has another name-Casa per ferie Sant’Andrea. Google is not quite that flexible.

The four-hour ferry to Rafina seemed to take no time at all as we shared seating with young Melbournites, Ollie, the football player teaching in London and Erin, the paramedic, travelling to wonderful destinations around Europe. They were travelling directly to the Athens airport to catch their next flight. So clever… We only discovered that Rafina was only twenty minutes to the airport on our third trip to Paros. Previously we went through Piraeus- so not a good choice. Meanwhile we needed to break the journey and had organised to stay at Hotel Avra, in the port.

You know the Empire is on its knees when the guidebooks are combining the Union Jack and the Stars and Stripes to indicate that it is written for Americans and other English speakers. The hotel in Rafina advertised that a full ‘American breakfast’ was included. The breakfast was a buffet and included scrambled eggs, bacon and baked beans. (No waffles or pancakes by the way.) This menu used to be referred to as an ‘English breakfast’. Ahh the times, they are a changing.

I had a moment when I insulted a local Venetian when I suggested she was a queue jumper. I was defending the young Swiss/Nigerian woman who, along with us, was bumped from the express bus to the city because it was full. Next bus- thirty minutes. The ‘queue-jumper’ stomped to the end of the line until she could find her ticket which proved it had been validated earlier and she needed to show me. Still- she left the queue. I felt no compassion!  

In essence our day in Venice was more of a lay-over. We arrived one evening and caught the ferry the following afternoon. Venice is rather lovely when you have no boxes to tick. We got the Number 1 vaporetto to St Mark’s and stumbled into the Illy café and were delighted to be able to indulge in a Café Crème- delicious. Next, we discovered the Royal Garden, an oasis of peace and tranquillity, contrasting with the manic tourist park that is St Mark’s Square which, remarkably, abuts the garden!

My sense of independence overcame me, and I had to have my own sim. The young man in the Wind3 shop had me connected in no time. Next we ventured down an obscure Calle and found a restaurant that appeared at first to be small and intimate. It was not! In fact, it was enormous. I calculate it could seat at least one hundred and fifty people- rooms after room kept appearing. The food was good. The price …was… Venetian-ie about 20% of the bill was extras- the contorno -the side dish-of bread, the coperto- the charge for the table arrangement? the service fee ??? and the VAT 10% and all of this is without the TIP which of course, because we are from the Land Downunder …. ‘che cosa?’

Of course, you see lovely things and think 1. Can I really afford that and 2. Where the hell am I going to put that? That is when good sense prevails. We left Venice empty handed but as any Earthling…filled with wonder!!!