Timon of Venice, 3 September

Dear reader, twelve hours or more of pounding the Venetian pavement yesterday,  have  left me footsore and with swollen knees.

Consequently,  the score so far in the Venice vs. Geoff rematch is:

•  Venice: 1,200 (years)
• Geoff's Knees: 2 (but swelling)

Venice is a real pro at this game so I'm not sure convinced  my knees will get out of the  place alive. Which is a real bummer,  as Venice  (opposite to all of  my preconceptions about gondolas and vaporetti) is a city for feet and walking (and you need your knees for that - most assuredly). The natural enemies of which are (of course) hard surfaces and bridges.  Ahh the bridges of Venice - there are 411 of them (whose counting you might say? -"We are!" say my feet).

But you can't catch a vaporetto  everywhere (or to most places actually):  they're expensive (for tourists there's a flat fee of 6.5 Euro for a one way trip - that's $10AUS if you only want to go one stop or 10) and they're very slow.

Which means that old people, mothers with babies, infirm people (and three legged dogs - don't forget them) are in big trouble! Because  the bridges don't cater for wheelchairs or pushers or food trolleys for that matter. It's bump, bump, bump all the way up the bridge and bump, bump, bump all the way down.

Except when you're a 19 year old blonde ingénue with two heavy suitcases, one of which you've lugged to the top of the bridge - You're going back down to get the other one right now aren't you?  (I think you can see where this is going...). When the first suitcase starts rolling down the stairs towards that  lovely picturesque canal all you hear is:  "bump, bumP, buMP, bUMP, BUMP".  "Oh" you say "there's that nice older man, running after it and he's stopping it with his knees! Pity that, what a silly, he seems to be in pain -Oh well it's still a long way to the Rialto so  off we go…..". Exit ingénue stage right with her suitcases (hopefully chased by a bear -Yes, they were my knees).

But I digress, yet  note in passing,  that there must be  a special place in heaven reserved for Venetian mothers and their perambulators. There's probably even a church around here  somewhere -   "la Madonna dal Passaggenio" say -  with a painting by Tintoretto of the presentation of the push-chair to the Madonna enthroned.

Thus  with still swollen knees and bleary eyes I get up (late), do my lessons (fitfully) and head off in search of lunch.  But along the way I met a dog (call him Timon) and as he seemed to know where he was going  I followed him  past the three moors (who are actually Greeks),  over a bridge and around a corner.

Here he is:

Timon of Canareggio

And yeah, verily Timon came to rest in front of two American tourists sitting outside an osteria (Timon's - hence my name for him).

He paid me no attention, but he was very interested in them (or rather what they were eating) and as he seemed to know what he was about I had lunch there too - and very good it was!