I get up early - I want to get some pictures before the masses wake up.
On my way back to the room from breakfast I stop at reception to ask directions to the hair salon where I have an appointment later in the day. I ask in Italian and the Venetian behind the desk visibly winces at my attempt. "What madam?" he manages in a strangled voice. I give up and ask in English.
The weather is cool and Venice flirts with me this morning. Cloaked in mist I catch glimpses of her down long narrow passageways and then she's gone again, laughing over her shoulder.
The Yank-o-meter is registering high this morning and I can hear the 'waa waa waah' of US accents around me. "Do ya know where ya goin'?" one woman asks her husband; to which he responds (I swear) "Affirmative". Some of them have obviously heard that Venice can be subject to aqua alta and are striding around in Wellington Boots. Beautiful.
I duck away from the crowds to find the rebuilt La Fenice and the Palazzo Contarini del Bovolo; whose outside staircase is fit for fairy tales.
I have coffee and biscuits on Campo San Stefano and then head to the hair salon. Apparently a favourite with Trinny and Suzannah, although on first impression I find it hard to picture the glamorous twosome in here. The stylist speaks no English and I manage to convey in my pigeon-Italian what I want, and I have to say she does a remarkably good job.
I grab some lunch and head up to the Rialto for a quick look but the heaving masses quickly have me heading back to the hotel for some rest. X is arriving this afternoon and I have promised to take it easy.
He arrives around 6pm and we eat dinner in the hotel restaurant. We stay up past midnight to see in his birthday, by which time Dolores has joined us. She's desperate for some attention and makes her presence felt, plucking at my nerves and I can't lie still. I have to silence her with some serious tranquillizers. I feel sorry for X, it can't be pleasant to watch.
Katy
