Canal Carpaccio
I have just returned from a spell in Venice and then Amsterdam. I am now a canal connoisseur.
As a Venice virgin I felt the full impact of the jaw dropping beauty. A charming collection of buildings supported precariously on stilts, separated by thin murky slivers of reasonably pungent water. Sadly global warming and geological forces spell a submerged future for this quirky place. The narrow streets and lack of traffic create a unique atmosphere, just watch out under foot for the smelly presents left by the local, seemingly IBS ridden dogs. Cafes were few and far between, but there were plenty of good trattorias to choose from. I went to Harry's Bar and anointed myself with a Bellini, wondering whether a beef carpaccio would be a bridge too far.
St Marks Square was impressive. Walking from one side to the other you gain a grey pigeon coat, like you are just another giant breadcrumb in their renaissance feeding bowl.
Navigation skills are essential, and I found myself lost in strange dark narrow places, trying to remove the eerie images of 'Don't Look Now' from my mind.
Venice is in the Veneto wine region which is famous for Valpolicella, Soave, and sparkling Prosecco to name but a few. I enjoyed many a carafe of local ink with my meals.
Amsterdam was a wholly different experience, a flurry of elegant steel frame bikes, alot like the one James Coburn rode in 'The Great Escape'. Cyclists stop for nothing so beware, probably due to that lack of handlebar brakes (just back pedal). If the bikes don't get you then a tram or canal might, especially after a visit to a 'coffee shop'. The odd red neon window seemed to attract passers by like moths to a naked flame, quite a spectacle. A fascinating place, and in many ways very pleasing on the eye. I naturally drank no wine, just superb locally brewed beer.
The short flight home and time difference catapaulted me back before I departed.
As a Venice virgin I felt the full impact of the jaw dropping beauty. A charming collection of buildings supported precariously on stilts, separated by thin murky slivers of reasonably pungent water. Sadly global warming and geological forces spell a submerged future for this quirky place. The narrow streets and lack of traffic create a unique atmosphere, just watch out under foot for the smelly presents left by the local, seemingly IBS ridden dogs. Cafes were few and far between, but there were plenty of good trattorias to choose from. I went to Harry's Bar and anointed myself with a Bellini, wondering whether a beef carpaccio would be a bridge too far.
St Marks Square was impressive. Walking from one side to the other you gain a grey pigeon coat, like you are just another giant breadcrumb in their renaissance feeding bowl.
Navigation skills are essential, and I found myself lost in strange dark narrow places, trying to remove the eerie images of 'Don't Look Now' from my mind.
Venice is in the Veneto wine region which is famous for Valpolicella, Soave, and sparkling Prosecco to name but a few. I enjoyed many a carafe of local ink with my meals.
Amsterdam was a wholly different experience, a flurry of elegant steel frame bikes, alot like the one James Coburn rode in 'The Great Escape'. Cyclists stop for nothing so beware, probably due to that lack of handlebar brakes (just back pedal). If the bikes don't get you then a tram or canal might, especially after a visit to a 'coffee shop'. The odd red neon window seemed to attract passers by like moths to a naked flame, quite a spectacle. A fascinating place, and in many ways very pleasing on the eye. I naturally drank no wine, just superb locally brewed beer.
The short flight home and time difference catapaulted me back before I departed.
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