3am and its raining in Plymouth. The sort of relentless downpour that makes you think the gods have been angered, their fury cascading in bucketloads from the dark and brooding sky. We are soaked through by the time we arrive at the airport -bleary-eyes and overtired but excited to be jetting off to Venice this morning – Italy’s floating city.
A few short hours and we are descending over The Dolomites, their snow-dusted jagged tops casting great angular shadows into deep ravines and crevasses, playing tricks on my eyes. We touch down on time in Marco Polo Airport, where the local climate reveals winter sunshine and clear blue skies; it’s not necessarily warmer than home but thankfully a whole lot drier and brighter. We make our way down to Alilaguna – the public water transport service – heading for the orange line which will take us into central Venice.