Our hotel, the Palazzo Sant’Angelo.
We took a tour boat to Murano, the glassmaking centre. The glassmakers were banished from Venice to the island of Murano because of the fire risk, but the glassmakers accepted the banishment because it made it easier to keep their processes and methods secret.
A horse, still hot from the furnace.
All the glazing on the glassware we saw had an abstract design. No little flowers or curlicues.
Similarly, the island of Burano is a lace-making centre. The houses are painted brilliant colours, like in St. John’s, and for similar reasons.
Betty on a bridge at Burano.
Laundry day in Burano
Talk about letting it all hang out.
While we were strolling about, a model was on a photo shoot by a canal. While the photographer was changing lenses or whatever, I snapped her from behind. She just happened to turn around the instant I took her picture.
Some of the Burano lace
On the way to and from the islands, the guides pointed out the many abandoned monasteries. Clearly, the heyday of Catholic fervour is gone. We also noticed many shoals and tiny islands, the scene of many a shipwreck, no doubt.
We visited a third island, but didn’t tour the church as suggested by our guide. We did tour the bar, though. It came with a petting zoo and a weird sculpture garden.
On our way back, I spotted a crane that looked like a crane.
And I took some arty photos of locks on a bridge. Aperture priority is such a gift to photographers.
We ate dinner in a restaurant near the hotel, called Bodega. It was run, seemingly single-handedly, by Andrea, she of the frizzy hair. Everything in Venice seems to come served on a bed of salad greens, instead of them serving the salad separately.