I woke at quarter to seven and got dressed quietly, but A bounced out of bed saying, "I woke up by myself!", itching to go to the nearby panificio which opened that morning after their August holidays. We bought jam-filled croissants, pane con uvetta, and a couple of crusty rolls, and fresh milk at the salumeria next door (the kids had hated the tetrapack UHT milk at breakfast at the Hotel Marin) where the gruff but kind proprietor attempted to chat with the kids in rapid Italian that even I found difficult (not that my Italian is any great shakes). Everyone exclaimed over breakfast, and we went back to the two shops for more bread and various cold cuts (sopressa, mortadella, prosciutto crudo di Parma) for lunch and dinner.
We walked down to Piazza San Marco (still taking one wrong turn to the left near the end, which exposed us to more tourist shlock) and to the Palazzo Ducale shortly after it opened. They had improved the itinerary, making everything "one way" so we didn't have to think about where to go, and providing information placards in each room so we didn't have to pull out the guidebooks that often. I was asked to stand up when lying on my back with Z in the Sala del Maggior Conseglio studying the Veronese ceiling paintings.
The kids liked the prisons (A, remembering, had been looking forward to this for months), though Z was quite concerned about monsters, having absorbed my explanation of the Hieronymus Bosch paintings of Hell a few rooms earlier back and thinking that demons went with any punishment meted out to adults. I managed to calm her down.
We had promised the kids a pigeon-feeding break, which took place while we were waiting in line for the Basilica; they broke (or attempted to break) bits off the stale Standa rolls and flung them to the waiting fowl.
It didn't take long to get into the Basilica, and the light was excellent. We kept annoying those trudging through by stopping to actually peer up at the mosaics and explain them to the kids; they knew the stories by now, and just had to be clued in to the iconographic elements of the life of Christ and the Passion.
We bought tickets to the museum and climbed up a very steep and narrow set of stone stairs to the upper floor. The museum had very little in it (chiefly the Paolo Veneziano cover of the Pala d'Oro) but was worth it for the original bronze horses ("They look sad," said Z, and we decided it was because their chariot was lost) and the copies on the balcony overlooking the Piazza (the views being the main attraction). "Are there more people or pigeons down below?" I asked Z, and she thought pigeons but that it was a close call.
The climb also afforded us a good look at the construction of the frescoes and a view over the interior of the Basilica. Then it was down and out into the Piazza, and around and back to the apartment, this time by the most direct route. We left the touristy parts within a few hundred yards of the Basilica, and the route was pretty but deserted.
Before that, however, both kids expressed their annoyance with the gondolas, whose initial fascination had quickly worn off. "The singing distracts me when I'm trying to look at things," said A. "Why do they always sing the same Italian song?" asked Z. "Because they get paid to do so," I said.
Lunch was more pleasant than the day before; good bread, good meat, leftover wine (the Cabernet tasted better chilled, "as all wines are served in Venice" according to one of our guides, erroneously). Z went down for a nap and A and I went in search of a "vini sfusi" place, an establishment which sold bulk wine one could take away in empty water bottles.
We did not succeed. The place on Fondamenta Nuove I had noticed remained closed, and a neighbour, while barely communicating, was not encouraging about the prospects of it opening. I decided to try the place close to our 96 apartment in Cannaregio. A was a trouper in walking through the heat of the day. That place was closed, and again neighbours were not encouraging, but pointed me to another place yet further west. The third place turned out to be functional, but closed for holidays the whole month of August.
We had failed, and I bought A coffee gelato on the Strada Nova as partial compensation. Then we went to the Standa again and bought water and a bottle of Prosecco frizzante just in case. We walked back, A carrying the receipt as on the day before and attempting to decipher it.
N had woken from her nap when we returned, though Z was still down. I looked through the phone book, then made one more attempt to find a vini sfusi place near Campo Santa Maria Formosa. I had only a Castello house number, no street, but knew it was somewhere near Salizzada San Lio, and found it with little difficulty, though it was closed until five.
Returning, I found Z awake and greeting me with a monster imitation. We got ready and headed out to Campo S. Mario Formosa; A bought the kids granitas while I went down to the shop, which was right across from a Su.Ve supermarket. I bought 1.5 litres of Cabernet Franc and 1.5 of Prosecco for a total bill of L10500, or about six US dollars. I came back to the campo only to find the sky clouded over and the wind forcing the cafe owners to shut up their umbrellas. We headed back to the apartment for dinner, the kids slurping granita as we went.
Dinner was fusilli in pesto, cannellini, a mixed salad of rucola (arugula) and baby lettuce, bread, and red wine (the Cabernet Franc from the vini sfusi shop, a decided improvement on the earlier bottle). It was such a nice evening that we decided to walk out without a destination in mind. We headed west towards Cannaregio and the Strada Nova, then went down to take a look at the Canal Grande near the Ca d'Oro and on impulse took a traghetto (crossing gondola, a bargain at L700 each) over the canal to the closed Rialto market. I showed the kids where everything would be the following day when the vendors returned from their long weekend. Then we walked back over the Rialto bridge and towards home. On the Salizzada San Lio we found a gelato place someone had recommended, and the kids and N had generous cones of limone, mura, nocciola and fichi. That slowed us a bit on the way home, but we made it before it was totally dark, and put the kids to bed at a reasonable hour.