I thought my Venice blog might start in Venice, but the first unexpected event happened in Bristol Airport. My cabin luggage set off all the alarms and an unfortunate official had the job of unpacking every item in my backpack. He waded through the first layer of stuff, and on finding my WordPress manual confided to me that he was actually a writer and would love to go to Venice to write about it. Never judge a man by his uniform. If only he had agreed to follow my blog, but he didn’t know what blogs are. The source of the trouble turned out to be a collection of 50 individually packed little boxes from my mother, now in a home, who gave them to me to take them to her granddaughter in Venice. It never occurred to me that several of them were metallic. A quarter of an hour later, and roughly half way through the collection he said This is like the antiques roadshow isn’t it, my wife and I always watch it.
They are still in my backpack. When the grandchildren unpack them I’ll post a photo.