venice yo! in which i leave essex behind...
I suppose it's time I updated since leaving Essex - it has been a while.
Currently in Paris - weather ghoulish but city still divine.
Leaving my cottage for good was heartbreaking - it's still my favourite place so far after the Blue House - even beating Ambleside (bc, of course, no Greggers or TBD) only tulips and lovely field. But I cleaned it up really well and even left some essentials I couldn't bring myself to throw away (like olive oil and sugar) for the next resident which the landlady said was okay and very kind of me (she's probably going to just throw them out but...). She also said my cleaning was so good she might not bother drycleaning the floors and that I didn't have to scrub off my paintings from the door and wall of the spare room. Hurrah!
So I left Newport on a sad, foggy, drizzly day - much the same spirit in which I arrived but this time with much more behind me (though still not much more surety ahead!). But we even had snow for a day two which was a great bonus - yay!
We pottered down to London which is a hideous city and shan't be sad to leave it behind - I got lost bc Dad took the map and then told me to meet him somewhere obscure which no one could ever find and which the British had signed, but which I suspect had been signed in the style of World War Two where all the signs are turned the wrong way to confuse the Germans.
We stayed with our wonderful cousins and their bub before leaving them a bit of peace for their parenting and heading Venice.
Venice is a great singular, molding, damp-so-it's-just-a-bit-whiffy, crusty labyrinth, built on wooden piles driven into the ground (wtf!?) and leaning ever so slightly and slowly to one side. It's a bulbous, richly decaying, scented cheese, swelled within the moist cloth of its canals, a poignant (pungent) timeless place, where the locals can hardly contain their fur-dressed distain of tourists, despite tourism being their only real industry.
Venice looks like this when it's sunny
piazzale de san marco
and like this sometimes too
and then the next minute like this
in venice the writing is on the wall - every wall
some leaving very thoughtufl philosophical questions for those around them to ponder
So that was venice.
Next I'll put up a picture blog of Paris since I've already posted so fervently about Paris back in August.
The bathroom sink in our tiny tiny apartment bathroom is an unhappy, leaky chappy. So dad is (was) in there 'tinkering' with it. Dad is the least tinkeringish sort of person I know. I hope he suggests we call the landlady and let her deal with it!
Now, I'm going to bed - people come and go from our apartment building at all hours (is there something dodgy going on?) the door buzzer is a real bore, BUZZ all night long to let in the lurkers. Also, a drunk person walking up this wooden staircase makes an awful lot of noise. So I am a little short on sleep.
Besides, it is très late and I have another day of touristing tomorrow.
Currently in Paris - weather ghoulish but city still divine.
Leaving my cottage for good was heartbreaking - it's still my favourite place so far after the Blue House - even beating Ambleside (bc, of course, no Greggers or TBD) only tulips and lovely field. But I cleaned it up really well and even left some essentials I couldn't bring myself to throw away (like olive oil and sugar) for the next resident which the landlady said was okay and very kind of me (she's probably going to just throw them out but...). She also said my cleaning was so good she might not bother drycleaning the floors and that I didn't have to scrub off my paintings from the door and wall of the spare room. Hurrah!
So I left Newport on a sad, foggy, drizzly day - much the same spirit in which I arrived but this time with much more behind me (though still not much more surety ahead!). But we even had snow for a day two which was a great bonus - yay!
We pottered down to London which is a hideous city and shan't be sad to leave it behind - I got lost bc Dad took the map and then told me to meet him somewhere obscure which no one could ever find and which the British had signed, but which I suspect had been signed in the style of World War Two where all the signs are turned the wrong way to confuse the Germans.
We stayed with our wonderful cousins and their bub before leaving them a bit of peace for their parenting and heading Venice.
Venice is a great singular, molding, damp-so-it's-just-a-bit-whiffy, crusty labyrinth, built on wooden piles driven into the ground (wtf!?) and leaning ever so slightly and slowly to one side. It's a bulbous, richly decaying, scented cheese, swelled within the moist cloth of its canals, a poignant (pungent) timeless place, where the locals can hardly contain their fur-dressed distain of tourists, despite tourism being their only real industry.
Venice looks like this when it's sunny
piazzale de san marco
and like this sometimes too
and then the next minute like this
in venice the writing is on the wall - every wall
some leaving very thoughtufl philosophical questions for those around them to ponder
So that was venice.
Next I'll put up a picture blog of Paris since I've already posted so fervently about Paris back in August.
The bathroom sink in our tiny tiny apartment bathroom is an unhappy, leaky chappy. So dad is (was) in there 'tinkering' with it. Dad is the least tinkeringish sort of person I know. I hope he suggests we call the landlady and let her deal with it!
Now, I'm going to bed - people come and go from our apartment building at all hours (is there something dodgy going on?) the door buzzer is a real bore, BUZZ all night long to let in the lurkers. Also, a drunk person walking up this wooden staircase makes an awful lot of noise. So I am a little short on sleep.
Besides, it is très late and I have another day of touristing tomorrow.