One of the excellent things about when a New Zealander falls for an Italian is that really, bureaucratically speaking, they must get married and they must do it in Venice. After the beautiful wedding of Matt and Valentina in the Chiesa del Santissimo Redentore, we stayed on for a couple of days' sightseeing at the end of our trip.
Traipsing around Venice with a curious, willful toddler who can't swim is, of course, terrifying. But Tim's a great sport when it comes to hanging out with Mummy and Daddy, and - for our part - it didn't take long to start appreciating the place through his eyes. He loved going on the ferries and vaporettos. He loved spotting boats - particularly the really idiomatic ones like boats with excavators on board, or boats with cranes for unloading stock for the supermarket. One day Tim and I both stood, fascinated, watching as someone moved into a new apartment: all of the furniture and belongings were piled up on a boat which waited in the canal, while a system of ropes and pulleys was installed to carry everything up the outside of the building (it's a pity my gawking stopped short of photographing, or even videoing it). It did give me a whole new appreciation for the crazy logistics of the place. Crazy. But so, so charming and beautiful.