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ITTERS 2001 |
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June - July 2001: Venice, Ravenna, Florence, Siena & Rome Me, James, Claire, Philip, Jen, Bel Aah, Itters. After finishing our first year, what better way to broaden our minds than to go on a latter-day Grand Tour?! The art was pretty good, the vino rosso delectable.
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| James trying to navigate around Venice bus station with a compass. Hmm. | Claire and Ben pay homage to Philip by closing their eyes in a photo. He's got his open. Typical. | |||
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| A canal. A little bit like Staffordshire, really. | Down dodgy Venetian alleys, dodgy people do lurk ... | |||
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| "Is that a Confraternity, Philip, or are you just pleased to see me?" | The Brindley Place of Venice. | |||
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| James and Claire pose with their 14 year old son who thinks he's Richard Ashcroft. Oh, shit, no, it's me ... | I've no idea who these blokes are. If one of them is you, it'd be great to hear from you. Bridge of Sighs behind (!) | |||
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| The Piazza San Marco, filled with tourist throngs and DAMN expensive coffee. | In front of the Basilica. Venice's mighty phallic symbols are visible. No, I don't mean James and Philip. | |||
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| There are nearly as many pigeons as tourists in Venice, providing ready meals for economising students. | The Piazza San Marco from atop the Basilica. | |||
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| Another view from the Basilica, this time with the Doge-y Palace on the left. And those phalluses. | Ours is the Grand Union, theirs is just, well, Grand ... | |||
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| ... as are the vehicles that ply it. Not a gaudy coal-scuttle in sight! | John Ruskin incarnate. Philip wields the Stones of Venice on the way to Torcello. | |||
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| It was a scorching day at beautiful Torcello, a 1500 year old Byzantine complex. Attila the Hun's old throne is parked outside. | Inside the Doge-y Palace. It looks a little bit like a wedding cake. I think Philip should be made Doge one day. | |||
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| This San Marco café had quite an, um, interesting musical combo to entertain its clients. That bloke at the front looks scintillated... | The view from the top of the Torcello campanile, across the stunningly expansive lagoon of Venezia. | |||
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| The future Doge pronounces to his subjects, who cannot gaze upon his hat-blessed form for all its awe and majesty. | And again. Here, in fact, he was reminding us of his stage triumph as Moliere's Misanthrope. | |||
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| It's all too much for poor Bel, whose right foot, no doubt, has just fallen off. Again. | Now that's a canal with character. The more pungently viscous and the less visited and salubrious, the better! | |||
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© Ben James 2003 |
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