We're back home on Vancouver Island where it's grey and wet and cool like Venice, though of course it's nothing like Venice.
Our last morning in Venice began with us standing at 3:45 on the ferry dock for a ride to the airport. Soon a spotlight shined on us and then a boat pulled up, our water taxi (€140). The taxis have a hint of early James Bond about them. They are sporty looking, long and pass-under-a-bridge low. Unfortunately at that time of day there's not much to see whilst looking out the cabin windows. About all I could make out were the outlines of people working the docks. The ride was over too quickly. Twenty minutes later we were out of the dark and into the bright lights of the airport's (water) port. The buildings were modern, there were cars and moving sidewalks and all the shiny modern conveniences. There were long straight lines. Ninety degree angles. Smooth, even plaster. We weren't in Venice anymore.
The rest of the day wasn't as fun as the water taxi, but what matters is that we made all our connections, even with a two-and-a-half hour delay in Amsterdam. A sensor in the baggage compartment failed so the mechanics worked on it as we sat in the plane and ate treats served us by the impeccably-sweet KLM stewards. I've no complaints about any airlines' service today. Upon landing in Vancouver WestJet agents guided us through border security then bussed us to our gate so we'd make our connection.
While the airplane mechanics worked I started my next book-club book, well books plural since the assigned book is a Norwegian novel about a Norwegian play and I've read neither so I'm reading both.
