Goodbye Mr Tom (Day 34)

Sunday is the traditional day to buy cakes, so we obliged. Because it was Tom’s last day in work we pushed the boat out a bit and got two each, they’re only small anyway, like fun size Mars bars, you need two to make it worth while. I felt very Venetian, walking away with my cakes wrapped all prettily.

Although I’ll be sad to see Tom go, his replacement arrived today in the form of Sam, who I’m looking forward to spending the week with before I leave. After work we headed to Campo Santa Margherita to meet friends and have a few drinks.

We sat on the steps, all wrapped up in coats, hats and scarves. The weather has turned suddenly here, and it’s now unmistakeably Autumn. My favourite season is Autumn because you’re never disappointed. Summer doesn’t always happen in Britain, Winter can be mild with no snow or just very wet, Spring is unpredictable, but Autumn is always Autumn, and the colours are the most vivid all year. I’m really pleased I’ve got to see Venice in this way. The light is better and it’s easier to walk around in cooler temperatures. Everything still operates outdoors, so warm clothes are essential.  

In the toilet I discovered the MILF phenomenon has hit Venice.

At the southern end of Camp Santa Margherita is Ponte del Pugni, the fighting bridge. It has footprints inset into each four corners as a hint to its history. From every September to Christmas the Nicoletti and Castellani used to fight here. Each group advanced in combat formation to try to occupy the area at the top of the bridge - fighting with fists and feet. Whoever managed to raise their standard at the top of the bridge (red for the Castellani and black for the Nicoletti), was the winner. No one is sure why the rivalry started. The Castellani lived in Castello and worked at the Arsenale and the Nicoletti lived in Dorsoduro and were fishermen. Some say a Nicoloti murdered a Castello bishop. The fights were banned by the grand council in 1705 because one fight became too violent and they started to hurl stones and drew knives and a priest had to wade into the fray holding a crucifix to stop them. This is a painting of the bridge being used for this purpose by Antonio Stom.

We got back to the flat and set about erecting a bed for Sam for the night. Given that there were five fully grown adults present, admittedly a little worse for wear, you’d think we’d have completed the task without too much trouble. But ten minutes in the airbed just wasn’t inflating, no matter how hard we pumped. It was then we realised there was a massive hole in the pump and had to resort to good old fashioned lung power.

Should have read the warning!

Because of the change in season, and the fact I’ve caught a cold it was time to sleep under more than just a sheet. I don’t agree with breeding and killing animals for their fur or skin, but I do love a bit of fake fur so was quite chuffed with my allocated blanket.