Wednesday 5th May. The Lido to Cavarzere
Villa Beatrice is a small hotel and they looked after us very well and gave us a delicious breakfast. Beatrice’s husband is an artist so the house was a bit like a gallery. He paints the most amazing huge pictures of bar room, beach, the races scenes with blousy women and dude’ish men sometimes set up as cats, badgers or something, I’m sure I’ve seen the pictures elsewhere but Beatrice was very coy about his success or lack of. It’s in a fairly quiet spot next to the Venice golf club. I can foresee a good weekend break of a combination of Venice and golf another time! We pedalled past it on the way to the next ferry to The Litorale di Pellestrina, the island to the south. It was still raining but not quite so hard. This ferry ride only took 10 minutes
Our 20th ferry of the trip.
and then we had another 8 miles down the next island. There were some old Island forts dotted along the coast as this would have been the first port of call for invaders. These are currently being repaired, some dating back 700 years or so. Pellestrina is a most attractive fishing village, the whole island is in some way involved in fishing. They have a technique for catching clams, gobbes’, nassas’ (no idea what the last two are) in things called ‘pound nets’
A pound net attached to the front of this boat - there were masses of them.
Fishing town of Pellestrina.
Which we think they must trawl through the mud and dig up anything there is to find.
We stopped for a late mid morning elevenses in the Sicilian Bar – run by guess what, a Sicilian who became quite emotional when we were able to show him our photographs of Siracuse on the camera. After the Dane in the bar the day before we wondered whether any of the local hostelries are run by locals.
The second ferry took us to Chioggia which is back on the mainland again. Whilst waiting alone and in the rain for a ferry which we weren’t too certain was going to turn up another couple of cyclists also arrived and asked (in German) if we too were going to Chioggia. Hopefully was all we could answer! They turned out to be Austrian -he was an anaesthetist and he and his wife were taking a 3 week holiday and had decided to cycle to Rome. It had taken then only 4 days to get to Venice which we thought was probably going a bit too quick for us! In three more days they hoped to be in Rome – wow!
Austrians - serious cyclists who carry rucksacks and travel very fast!
We chatted with them on the 30 minute crossing mainly about the dire state of the euro zone nations and how the Austrians and the Germans certainly were not that happy about bailing out Greece and probably Spain and maybe Portugal in the full knowledge that the loans would never be repaid. Anyway leaving that aside it was great to speak with people who had cycled in places where we had been too – the Peloponnese, Spain, Italy and Sicily.
Now Chioggia(also known as little Venice locally) is a pretty fishing town and it can also boast an enormous clock tower, the first to be designed and built by Leonardo da Vinci.
Leonardo's clock tower.
Maybe doesn’t look much but it really is an impressive spectacle!
My overriding memory of Chioggia will always be the smell of fish and not a very pleasant one either. There must be some fish processing factory somewhere because the smell of gutting fish is everywhere.
As we have already discovered, the Italians have this fixation about motorways and cars and heed little to the needs of a poor cyclist and produce no information for either in the way of ‘sign posts’. The quiet road out of Chioggia leads you directly onto a motorway so not for the first time we found ourselves unable to get out of the city and having to turn back and cast about until we found the correct route. Once on it we were laughing, we followed the river Adige on a very quiet B road all the way to Cavarzere. This route takes you over the salt marshes and flats along the edge of a canal. It was completely deserted so we whizzed along nervously watching a large thunderstorm gaining on us. Just as we were about to be soaked, lo and behold there was a wooden shack on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere which turned out to be a bar, so we took shelter in there. There were some old boys playing a very rowdy game of cards. It was a pretty impressive storm so we were very relieved to be inside. We had a glass of Prosecco to celebrate going over the 3000 mile mark on our speedometers. We have done rather more than this, as they frequently don’t work. 10 miles on we found the hotel we’d looked up on the internet without a problem.
Getting in to it on the other hand was not going to be so easy. All the way across Europe hotels advertise themselves as being Gay Friendly which we’ve always regarded as rather comical as we’ve never thought it a problem. But ‘when I enquired about a double room’ (leaving Vivi outside) madam here was most insistent that I was married to the person staying with me. I was quite surprised that she hadn’t wanted to see our marriage certificate as well!
As it was only 6pm’ish we decided to walk into the town to take a look at the huge church. 50yds short of it we spotted a barbers shop with only one man in it and he was just leaving. "Ah look" says Vivi you can get a haircut, so in we went. Why is it that you only discover that you’ve made a terrible mistake when it is too late to do anything about it. I was pushed into the chair and swaddled in towels, Vivi was handed some extraordinary ‘girls’ mags (ie mags for girls) the contents of which we didn’t know it was legal to publish. As for me I was in the company of ‘mad Edward Scissor hands’. First he pulled what hair I have out with some blunt croppers. Then he snipped and snapped all around my head, then he took a cut throat razor to the rest of the hair I have and then some other sort of scissors which he proudly said came from Germany. He then shaved my neck and returned to the top of my head with the shears and a polisher, and afterwards managed to get his scissors right into my ears, up my nose and cut my eyebrows back to a mere stubble. This has never happened to me before and I found it all most undignified!! Even Vivi was temporarily silenced and watched in what can only be described as morbid fascination. Eventually we managed to get him to stop whereupon he showed us all of his photographs since schooldays and then offered to buy us a drink in the pub opposite. Mercifully he had to lock up the shop so as soon as his back was turned I’m ashamed to say – we made a run for it!
The River Adige (just north of the more famous Po) My haircut was in the building just to the right of the church tower! Never to be forgotten.
Today Vivi whilst cycling along behind me has twice mistaken me for a taxi with both of it’s doors open! (It’s not quite as bad as he is making out, but he does look well trimmed!) Ah and a lot better than my bro in law after he’s had an Aussie No 1!! (No offence Zoom)
Back in the hotel we had an excellent dinner – one party of 8 men, a couple of men (not gay) and Vivi and me. But it was OK, she is used to being the token female. As with all Mediterranean countries the telly was on with the eternal football. They were showing the Italian grudge Derby of Roma v Inter-Milan who as everyone knows are managed by none other than ‘The Special One’, Chelsea’s old boss Jose Morinho. (and Vivi’s favourite manager) It took us until Inter scored to work out who was playing in which strip but no bother, Inter won in the end! Well, what a curate’s egg of a day.
Villa Beatrice is a small hotel and they looked after us very well and gave us a delicious breakfast. Beatrice’s husband is an artist so the house was a bit like a gallery. He paints the most amazing huge pictures of bar room, beach, the races scenes with blousy women and dude’ish men sometimes set up as cats, badgers or something, I’m sure I’ve seen the pictures elsewhere but Beatrice was very coy about his success or lack of. It’s in a fairly quiet spot next to the Venice golf club. I can foresee a good weekend break of a combination of Venice and golf another time! We pedalled past it on the way to the next ferry to The Litorale di Pellestrina, the island to the south. It was still raining but not quite so hard. This ferry ride only took 10 minutes
Our 20th ferry of the trip.
and then we had another 8 miles down the next island. There were some old Island forts dotted along the coast as this would have been the first port of call for invaders. These are currently being repaired, some dating back 700 years or so. Pellestrina is a most attractive fishing village, the whole island is in some way involved in fishing. They have a technique for catching clams, gobbes’, nassas’ (no idea what the last two are) in things called ‘pound nets’
A pound net attached to the front of this boat - there were masses of them.
Fishing town of Pellestrina.
Which we think they must trawl through the mud and dig up anything there is to find.
We stopped for a late mid morning elevenses in the Sicilian Bar – run by guess what, a Sicilian who became quite emotional when we were able to show him our photographs of Siracuse on the camera. After the Dane in the bar the day before we wondered whether any of the local hostelries are run by locals.
The second ferry took us to Chioggia which is back on the mainland again. Whilst waiting alone and in the rain for a ferry which we weren’t too certain was going to turn up another couple of cyclists also arrived and asked (in German) if we too were going to Chioggia. Hopefully was all we could answer! They turned out to be Austrian -he was an anaesthetist and he and his wife were taking a 3 week holiday and had decided to cycle to Rome. It had taken then only 4 days to get to Venice which we thought was probably going a bit too quick for us! In three more days they hoped to be in Rome – wow!
Austrians - serious cyclists who carry rucksacks and travel very fast!
We chatted with them on the 30 minute crossing mainly about the dire state of the euro zone nations and how the Austrians and the Germans certainly were not that happy about bailing out Greece and probably Spain and maybe Portugal in the full knowledge that the loans would never be repaid. Anyway leaving that aside it was great to speak with people who had cycled in places where we had been too – the Peloponnese, Spain, Italy and Sicily.
Now Chioggia(also known as little Venice locally) is a pretty fishing town and it can also boast an enormous clock tower, the first to be designed and built by Leonardo da Vinci.
Leonardo's clock tower.
Maybe doesn’t look much but it really is an impressive spectacle!
My overriding memory of Chioggia will always be the smell of fish and not a very pleasant one either. There must be some fish processing factory somewhere because the smell of gutting fish is everywhere.
As we have already discovered, the Italians have this fixation about motorways and cars and heed little to the needs of a poor cyclist and produce no information for either in the way of ‘sign posts’. The quiet road out of Chioggia leads you directly onto a motorway so not for the first time we found ourselves unable to get out of the city and having to turn back and cast about until we found the correct route. Once on it we were laughing, we followed the river Adige on a very quiet B road all the way to Cavarzere. This route takes you over the salt marshes and flats along the edge of a canal. It was completely deserted so we whizzed along nervously watching a large thunderstorm gaining on us. Just as we were about to be soaked, lo and behold there was a wooden shack on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere which turned out to be a bar, so we took shelter in there. There were some old boys playing a very rowdy game of cards. It was a pretty impressive storm so we were very relieved to be inside. We had a glass of Prosecco to celebrate going over the 3000 mile mark on our speedometers. We have done rather more than this, as they frequently don’t work. 10 miles on we found the hotel we’d looked up on the internet without a problem.
Getting in to it on the other hand was not going to be so easy. All the way across Europe hotels advertise themselves as being Gay Friendly which we’ve always regarded as rather comical as we’ve never thought it a problem. But ‘when I enquired about a double room’ (leaving Vivi outside) madam here was most insistent that I was married to the person staying with me. I was quite surprised that she hadn’t wanted to see our marriage certificate as well!
As it was only 6pm’ish we decided to walk into the town to take a look at the huge church. 50yds short of it we spotted a barbers shop with only one man in it and he was just leaving. "Ah look" says Vivi you can get a haircut, so in we went. Why is it that you only discover that you’ve made a terrible mistake when it is too late to do anything about it. I was pushed into the chair and swaddled in towels, Vivi was handed some extraordinary ‘girls’ mags (ie mags for girls) the contents of which we didn’t know it was legal to publish. As for me I was in the company of ‘mad Edward Scissor hands’. First he pulled what hair I have out with some blunt croppers. Then he snipped and snapped all around my head, then he took a cut throat razor to the rest of the hair I have and then some other sort of scissors which he proudly said came from Germany. He then shaved my neck and returned to the top of my head with the shears and a polisher, and afterwards managed to get his scissors right into my ears, up my nose and cut my eyebrows back to a mere stubble. This has never happened to me before and I found it all most undignified!! Even Vivi was temporarily silenced and watched in what can only be described as morbid fascination. Eventually we managed to get him to stop whereupon he showed us all of his photographs since schooldays and then offered to buy us a drink in the pub opposite. Mercifully he had to lock up the shop so as soon as his back was turned I’m ashamed to say – we made a run for it!
The River Adige (just north of the more famous Po) My haircut was in the building just to the right of the church tower! Never to be forgotten.
Today Vivi whilst cycling along behind me has twice mistaken me for a taxi with both of it’s doors open! (It’s not quite as bad as he is making out, but he does look well trimmed!) Ah and a lot better than my bro in law after he’s had an Aussie No 1!! (No offence Zoom)
Back in the hotel we had an excellent dinner – one party of 8 men, a couple of men (not gay) and Vivi and me. But it was OK, she is used to being the token female. As with all Mediterranean countries the telly was on with the eternal football. They were showing the Italian grudge Derby of Roma v Inter-Milan who as everyone knows are managed by none other than ‘The Special One’, Chelsea’s old boss Jose Morinho. (and Vivi’s favourite manager) It took us until Inter scored to work out who was playing in which strip but no bother, Inter won in the end! Well, what a curate’s egg of a day.
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