The Bells, the Bells.

The guide book told us that the best thing to do in Venice was get lost.So that was what we did first. Not exactly on purpose, but what the heck. Anyway, fortunately the whole joint is so tiny that you can't help finding yourself again. Pretty soon you bump into some orienting bit of water.

When we did find our hotel, it was the business. J had pushed out the proverbial Gondola on this one,it being my birthday an'all, and we passed through a stone gate of a rather stark square into a little oasis of quiet green walled garden, and proceeded to be led to a small room 'on the canal'. Unfortunately it was also right next to the breakfast room and opposite a blank wall, and you had to lean out the window to actually see the water. The piles of earplugs on the bedside table did not inspire optimism. In retrospect, we reckon they probably sent everyone to this room first,in the hope they's take it. They most kindly agreed to give us an alternative, and suddenly we were crossing under a massive chandelier over a marble floor and into a door which led us to walls of red and velvet curtains stretching up to cavernous ceilings, and a little wrought iron balcony that hung above the garden. There was also an extremely large Murano glass confection above the bed. It would have killed us in an instant if it fell.

Then the bells started. There are bells in Venice like you wouldn't believe. There was one rather large one in a tower about two doors away. That one, I must admit, did kind of hurt my skull a bit first thing in the morning. But I forgave it. You can't really beat sitting under blooming roses next to the Grand Canal with the water taxis cruising by all varnished and shiny like they just that minute dropped a white-suited James Bond (Connery version) off at the Casino, while bells assail you from every direction. None of them were quite in sync, so it would start with a single clanking. The one opposite that's in the above picture was often among the first. That first ring would get answered from some where on another island, until suddenly you are in the middle of a clanging cacophany coming at you from all points of the compass.

Many, many bells, but far from saturation point.