Like a whirlpool that never ends.

So, dear friends, the inevitable has happened. Within a week of one another, my betrothed and I have both fallen ill. Not seriously so, just enough to ruin sketchy plans and annoy us.


Mick just has a cold.


Pfft.


My childhood motion sickness has reared it's ugly head and joined leagues with a bout of gastro. Unpleasant. Combine the two with a rather insensible ride on the Grand Canal water bus in Venice and the result has been three days of constant dizziness and "whirlpool" gut.


Not ever having suffered from motion sickness before, Mick asked what it feels like. I replied "You know when you've had FAR too much to drink, you lie on your bed and close your eyes and the world starts moving around you." "yeah, that's the feeling". Maybe I'll look into psychiatric treatment or hypnosis therapy when we get back. In my (medically educated*) mind, motion sickness indicates a weakness of character. Why can't my stomach, brain and the horizon just sort it out?


Onto more pleasant things. Lake Como was stunning, much larger than I imagined and we found ourselves once again in the good graces of Zeus. On Tuesday we took to the Greenway del Lago di Como, walking about 8 kilometres along the curving coast roads of the west bank. The paths take you down steep cobbled alleys, past crumbling stone piers and extravagant villas (George Clooney has a place on the lake).


On Thursday we drove east, through Lombardia to the region of Veneto. Veneto covers most the northeast corner of Italy, including Verona (where they laid their scene), Padova and most famously Venice. Somewhere in the middle of all that is the hillside village of Arqua Petrarca, a spot that has been inhabited since the Bronze Age. It is currently (the locals have their fingers crossed, or the Italian equivalent) on it's way to becoming world heritage listed.


Venice was one of those places that fell on my "Should probably visit, but can be sacrificed if necessary" list. I'm super pleased we didn't sacrifice it. Despite the tourist throng and the nasty tourist targeted shops, the city itself was lovely. Slightly worn looking, in a pre-loved way, the buildings lining the canals looked warm and sun drenched in spite of their cool blue roadways.


Taking a hand drawn map our host made for us, we headed off the beaten track and wandered through the Jewish Ghetto, visited Madonna dell'Orto (church with divine frescoes) and hunted down an antique jewelery store in the Dorsoduro. We sipped Spritz; prosecco, Aperol and soda (I think) while munching tiny tiny single ingredient panini's in a Campo for lunch.


Gaja Sperss 2000 (nebbiolo, half bottle)- C- deep purple, with a garnet edge, N- surprising rose petals and smokey oak, P- amazing length, liquorice and herbs


*high school biology