Ciao bella.

At two o'clock on Saturday morning, running on precisely zero hours of sleep and pent-up excitement, we left for Venice in Sam's poor broken-down car. On the way to Stansted we sang Greenday and Wheatus and other classic tracks in order to keep our driver awake, which probably worked as we arrived in one piece :) At the airport we met up with the Canterbury contingent, Lucy, Liz and Holly and proceeded through the rigmarole of bag weigh-ins and security. In the departures lounge I bought a Boots meal deal (because I have been taught well) and a crossword book in WH Smiths (because really I am an old lady at heart). Aboard the plane I fought Alice for the window seat and won, so I spent the majority of take-off watching out of the window and waiting for a glorious sunrise (the results of which were mediocre to say the least). We arrived at Treviso airport at nine a.m. and boarded a bus which took us to the island of Venezia. We then bought water bus tickets and set off in search of our hostel.

Luckily our rooms were very nice, despite a suspicious front door and a dark winding staircase. In the reception room we were met by several American and Australian girls, who put our minds at ease with their tales from the road. After a quick rest (still no sleep at this point) and a change of clothes we set out again, traversing the back-streets and canal ways of the city in an attempt to get a feel for the place. Venice was quite unlike any city I'd been to before, everywhere we looked there was amazing architecture and picturesque views and the way the buildings nestled on the Grand Canal created a magical, floating sensation. Eventually we found ourselves in the general direction of St Mark's Square.

We visited the Basilica and I yo-yo'd off in various directions, taking photos while the others browsed the glass shops and Venetian mask stalls. After visiting another church on the other side of the canal and getting slightly lost (i.e. coming to the end of the island), we took an extended tour back to the hostel. I was by this point tired and cold, but we saw some lovely interesting things on the way home. Tea was Chinese takeaway and my noodles were of the crispy, uncooked variety. Thankfully Alice saved me from starvation and via. all means of swapsies I had a nice dinner after all.

The next morning I woke to the words, "... from Krakow" "Where's that?" "I'm not sure, Jess would know", so I sleepily rolled over in bed and mumbled "Poland". We spent the day in serious art contemplation as we visited the Venice Biennale. There was a huge selection of contemporary pieces from all corners of the world and by no means were we able to cover it all. Instead we focused on the Giardini collection, which included work from the UK, the United States and Scandinavia. Some of my favourite artists/exhibitions included Georges Adeagbo, Tomas Saraceno and Öyvind Fahlström. I loved "Instruction Pieces" by Yoko Ono (e.g. "Painting to exist only when it's copied or photographed. Let people copy or photograph your paintings. Destroy the originals. 1964 Spring."). We had lunch in the most confusing restaurant ever, paninis that you literally had to fight for. Then we continued to peruse the pavilions to the point of art overdose.

At teatime we went back to San Marco, where we eventually found a cheap restaurant selling pasta and pizza. I chose the latter, which was a wise decision - the portions of pasta were minuscule in comparison with my hefty Four Cheeses. We went back to our hostel by way of cake shops, gelato and the Rialto Bridge. Then we set off again in search of Plaza San Paulo. This involved wandering round in circles, forever skirting our intended destination, loudly singing "WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE" and discussing Pinocchio, waving to the boats on the canal and cheering when somebody finally waved back and finally consulting our many maps, finding the square and turning back again. In a little side street glass shop Alice, Gabby and I bought floating glass girlfriends for the fish tank at home. Mine was an octopus whom I named Oliver (I decided that Patrick was in fact a gay fishy).

On the last day Alice and Gabby tried once again to wake me up with geography trivia, but this time I answered only when I was good and ready to :) We packed our bags, ate breakfast in the cafe next door and settled the bill with the hostel owners. Before Venice the word hostel was enough to generate a wave of anxiety, but now I feel quite inspired to travel. Inter rail this summer, anyone? We went our separate ways on Monday; team Canterbury back to the Biennale, team London to the Doge's Palace. Along the way we stopped for photographs, postcards and more gelato, despite the fact it was raining. The Doge's Palace was large, dry and beautiful and we spent much of the day there, reading the information plaques and admiring the lavish decor. We sighed our way across the Bridge of Sighs (which, would you believe it, was covered in scaffolding. I truly think I might be cursed) and paid the gift shop a passing visit (I bought an Italian notebook, the scrapbook starts today :))

We bought slices of pizza for lunch and did a spot of last minute souvenir shopping, which involved pretty mask indecision and a ten minute queue in the post office. Then we made our way back to the hostel, wrote some last minute postcards, said our goodbyes and set off for the airport. I caused some hassle with my request for a Venetian McDonalds, which my happy meal toy (Italian trivial pursuit!) only just made up for. But we made it onto the bus and back to the airport, with more than enough time to spare. Then there was security, pizza, small Venezia gondola hats, one more gelato for good luck, art magazines, a long wait as the plane battled with the rain in a bid to land, crosswords, geography skills, Stansted express, drunken Americans and finally night buses home again.

For more Venice photos, skedaddle on over here.