Wednesday 
07.08.2013
275km Total: 1776km
We leave an overcast Milan behind us this morning and head out on the Autostrada towards Venice, the clouds dissipate quickly and are replaced by a scorching sun.
Not even having the visor open helps because the wind even at 130km/h feels like a blow-dryer in your face.
The pileups we're used to from the German Autobahn are present here as well but the Italian queue-discipline leave a lot to be desired.
The cars are scattered across all lanes like fallen dominoes.
When we eventually ran out of patience and started lane splitting¹ it demanded full concentration and pretty aggressive riding.
Arriving in Venice in the afternoon the traffic situation was completely chaotic and the temperature absolutely relentless, as soon as we stopped the sweat just came pouring out.
We take refuge at a petrol station where I phone up the hotel and ask just how the hell you're supposed to get there.
This being Venice I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise that you can't ride a (land)vehicle to anywhere near the hotel.
We have to park at a garage (or the garage as I believe there really only was one) and carry our luggage for about a kilometre.
It might not sound like much and under normal circumstances it wouldn't have been but the temperature was just brutal.
Even inside the shaded garage the sweat was continuously pumping out and dripping to the floor and my hand are sweating to the point I'm having trouble gripping the gear.
I'm making excuses here because I made an absolutely pitiful spectacle of the walk to the hotel.
I was whining like a spoilt child the whole time to the point I'm surprised the bear didn't push me into the canal.
Had I at that moment had a red button that wiped out Venice from the face of the earth I wouldn't even have hesitated.
The bear give me if not physical so at lest mental kicks in my ass which is the only reason we made it to the hotel or I might have just drowned myself in the canal.
Free of the bike gear and a t-shirt so soaked in sweat it must have weighed several kilos and installed in an AC-tempered room with a cold beer from the minibar I slowly but surely got my mojo back.
A shower later I'm even ready to hit the town.
We wander aimlessly along the canals with alleyways so narrow you can touch both walls until we purely by chance end up at the Scuola grande di san Teodoro concert hall where there that evening was to be a concert with music from the four seasons by Vivaldi.
It immediately felt like just the right thing to do when you're in Venice.
I walk in to ask for times and prices and just like at the opera house in Vienna we aren't really dressed for the occasion.
The lady at the box office seemed completely fine with it so we leave with two tickets for the 8.30PM show.
We continue our exploration and manage to find a nice restaurant where we sit down and order a couple of Italian specialities.
I decide to go full native for once and order a squid and shellfish platter (scampi fritti and something something di mare) and a glass of white wine (yes, there's even proof!).
The bear gets what apart from the sourfleisch he got in Germany is the most heinously looking meal I've ever seen.
It was supposedly "Cuttlefish with black sauce" but it looked like two sponges that someone cracked a couple of pens over.
He gave it the grade "edible" but it sure was never going to win any awards for most beautiful food presentation.
Me make our way back to the opera house and take our seats for the Vivaldi concert which was a very pleasant experience.
It was classical music I'd actually heard before for the most part even though the pair of us are pretty much heretics when it comes to the classical school.
After the concert we get icecream/frutti di fruits and a couple of beers on a random plaza somewhere.
That we got lost and had to ask for directions back to hotel wasn't really the beers fault.
It was a fairly long way back to the hotel so more hydration was needed.
When we get to "The Irish pub Venice" I can't resist a small revolution against the Italianos and we get ourselves a couple of pints of Guinness.
I'd have to rate it quite the same as Bears cuttlefish: edible.
After this we conclude that we have just the right amount of hydration, strength, intelligence and courage to get back to the hotel.
¹ Perfectly legal in Italy.
Venecia
The food presentation on Bears plate really left a lot to be desired.
Frutti di mare felt a lot more metal.
Gondolas. Gondolas everywhere.
Vivaldi concert
The first of many visits to this ice-cream parlour.
