However, the rain did me a favour. As much as I wanted to see Venice, I wasn't relishing the thought of doing it in the August heat. It had rained a lot during the night, cooling the air considerably - it was even cool enough for a scarf early on.
The first thing I did on arrival at Venice Santa Lucia station was leave my rucksack at the left luggage area. Naturally there was a massive queue, but if there is one thing us Brits do well, it is queue. (Except at bars. A queue at a bar is just weird, there it is all about presence.) And if there is one thing that upsets us a lot, it is people who disrespect the queue.
Some people tried to do this today. The Italians either side of me looked unhappy, but helpless, so I had to take control of the situation. I sent the interlopers to the back with a few firm gestures - wagging of the finger indicating bad behaviour and a sharp sideways nod of the head indicating the direction they needed to go. This brought the Italians to life, they immediately started nodding and si, si, si-ing, whilst moving to stand on my side, backing me up. Non-verbal communication can be so powerful. Chastised, the chancers snuck away. Don't disrespect the queue!
Happily unencumbered and satisfied having done my civic duty, I set out for the main attractions of the Rialto Bridge, the Grand Canal and St Mark's Square.
The Rialto Bridge was covered in scaffolding, so up next was a self imposed mission to find Scala Contarini del Bovolo - I'd read about it in a guide about more obscure things to see in Venice. After a few wrong turns and dead-ends, ticking another Venice thing off the list - getting lost, I found what I was looking for tucked away down a maze of nondescript alleyways. What a treat! And I was the only one there.
After this, I headed in the direction of St Mark's Square. It is hard to see anything, let alone appreciate it, when caught in the colourful, slow moving millipede that is a mob of tourists in an alley. But every alleyway seems to lead to St Mark's eventually, so to avoid the blockages caused by guided tour groups, people towing their luggage and the pop-up attractions of street performers, whenever there was a choice of alleyways, I took the least busy, just for fun.
St Mark's Square had a hum of chatter from tourists sitting on the steps around edges and music drifting across the open space. Pigeons would suddenly startle into the air, almost as through they know their role in providing content for the many photographs being taken at any given moment.
After a few hours, my feet and my crowd tolerance levels had reached their limit so I headed back to the station. However, as it was my last day in Italy, I couldn't leave without an Aperol spritz. I found a quiet little bar, playing Nina Simone, and took a load off for a while.
Then it was off to the airport hotel before my early flight to Croatia tomorrow.
In getting the bus to my hotel, I managed to dodge a nice Italian rip-off. To go on the bus anywhere it is €1.50 except to the airport which is €8. And it is only €1.50 of you buy your ticket before you get on the bus, otherwise it is £3. I got off one stop before the airport, qualifying for the cheaper fare. I feel like I'm getting the hang of this travelling lark.
Tomorrow might be a different story though. Croatia is completely unknown to me both in terms of language and culture. I'm looking forward to finding out more, first hand. But I've realised that in amongst all of the good stuff, of which there is so much, travelling alone means I have a constant low-lying sense of tension, it is subtle, but it is there.
But now I'm safely tucked up in my hotel room with a pizza and a cup of tea, aiming for an early night.
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