Although only in Venice for one whole day, we packed a lot in.
We went for a Gondola ride, had lunch in St Mark’s square, visited the Doge’s Palace and the Basilica, but the best part of the day was the evening.
During the day we passed a shop that seemed like a ‘Box office’. We went in and asked about any Opera’s being performed that night.
Considering how small Venice truly is, we were surprised at the breadth of choice.
We finally choose ‘Il Barbiere di Siviglia’, simply because it was the closest to the hotel.
Wandering down at around 8pm after dinner, we couldn’t find the venue.
It was meant to be at a place called ‘Palazzo Barbarigo’, but all we could find were normal houses.
Just as we were about to give up, we saw a little sign on an unassuming little easel.
The ‘Palazzo Barbarigo’ turned out to be the main house on the island.
After waiting in the courtyard, we were escorted up a steep flight of stairs to the main hall.
There were about twenty chairs arranged facing a piano.
The four-piece orchestra arrived and began to play and suddenly two men burst out from one of the side doors, singing loudly.
Their voices were incredible, as were the other two performers.
Each act was set in a different room in the ‘Palace’ and wine was served between acts.
It was joyous and my wife and I laughed throughout the two-hour performance.

My brother got married yesterday and, as 'Best man' I had to give a speech.
I was dreading it, as I'm not so good in crowds or with public speaking.
I got through it but I probably made a hash of it.
I've reproduced it below, so my brother can see what I meant to say.

Good afternoon everyone.
As you now all know, Mark is my older brother.
When he first asked me to be his ‘Best man’ I was 'quite pleased’.
It was an easy yes, as I knew he wasn’t expecting any real help from me.
Then though, he told me that I’d have to give a speech.
OK, not so bad.
Initially I was just going to say:
‘I’ve known my brother all my life and he’s the best one I’ve ever had.’
But Mark told me the speech had to last for at least five minutes.
I told him that even if I spoke ‘Reeeeeeaaaally slooooowly’, it would never stretch that far.
So I started to think about our childhood and our shared history.
Mark was a beautiful child. Really beautiful; with long auburn hair and dark eyes...
girlish really.
Which is probably why, aged just fourteen, he decided to grow a beard.
We had an idyllic childhood in an odd little village within a town.
Fortunate to have a hard-working Father and a warm-hearted Mother.
We both went to the local ex-grammar school and generally kept out of trouble. Mark ‘perhaps’ a little bit more than me.
He was immediately placed in the top sets of everything academic, became a prefect as soon as was allowable and happily worked in the school library.
He did brilliantly in his ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels, leaving me an unenviable (or should I say ‘impossible’) target to match.
Then he went off to Norwich University.
It was there that Mark developed his taste for politics and messy living.
I remember visiting him once and being appalled at the untidiness of his shared dorm.
(Remember that I was 18 at the time, so just try to imagine how bad it must have been for a male teenager to even notice!)
Thankfully, Mark has become ‘slightly’ tidier in the following years.
His interest in politics and specifically the Liberal democrat party however, has gone from strength to strength.
An interest that’s grown so strong, that he’s decided to marry Ros; the hopefully future president of the party, just to prove his devotion.
After considering the man my brother has become, I’ve revised my opinion to my initial reaction to being made his ‘Best man’.
I’m not just ‘quite pleased’.
I’m proud.
Proud to have been asked and proud of him.
If everyone would please raise their glasses.
To my brother Mark, who I have always loved, and his new wife.
I wish you all the happiness in the world.
Cheers Mark and Ros.

I’m odd.
I’ve always been odd.
Weird things make me laugh.
I saw a balloon struggling down a side road towards me.
It was from a local gym and it was partially deflated but mostly being held down by a heavy plastic stopper.
I gathered it up, removed the stopper and tied it closed.
Willing it good luck, I released it into the air…
It hovered in front of me for a moment but then slowly started to inch skyward.
I watched it for minutes until it finally floated above the rooftops.
Fly free my helium filled friend!
It’s liberation had me smiling all morning.

We flew out from Gatwick using the train to get us there.
No problem.
The flight however was over booked and we were delayed.
Still several hundred pounds, an upgrade to business class and full use of the BA first class lounge went some way of offsetting my rage for the four hours of Venice we'd lost.
Many, many free drinks and the best shower I’ve ever had!

I took my wife to Venice last weekend.
It was the first time we’ve been away since we had children.
(15 years!)
It was only for two nights, as I had to leave two of the children and the dog with my parents. They were great but it was still a lot to ask.
(My eldest went to my wife’s mother because she has ‘SKY’!)

Another thing I saw on my ‘boys-weekend-away’ was the Estonian National Ballet.
Ironic really as it’s generally a ‘let’s-get-drunk’ event with no acknowledgement of the culture or sights.
It was just the two of us and although I spent the whole performance thinking of my wife, I had a great time.
The leads were excellent, as was the orchestra.

One of the things we did in Estonia was spend a couple of hours at a ‘gun range’.
I put the words ‘gun range’ in italics because it was only loosely what the English would describe as a ‘gun range’.
Standing in the snow, outside with cardboard targets stuck in the ground about ten yards away.
We were allowed to fire: Revolvers, Glocks, Pump-action shot-guns and AK-47s.
Fantastic!
My friends went a little further, firing Magnums, Desert Eagles, some sort of Spy-gun with silencer and laser sight and one of them had a go at firing two ‘Glocks’ simultaneously.