Venice is a beautiful city and I am lucky for this to be my third visit here. You can’t get sick of this place, there are tiny little alleys and canals and gondolas and pizza and gelato everywhere. We had beautiful weather for our sail into Venice and could clearly see San Marco as we passed by.

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We spent most of our day by San Marco square where you can find Saint Marks Basilica, the Palazzo Patriarcale, the seat of the Patriarch of Venice and the clock tower. We climbed the tower and saw the magnificent view of our surroundings. The view of Venice from above would definitely have to make my top 3 favourites.

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As you make your way deeper inland, you encounter many narrow little streets filled with shops bursting with Venetian masks and Murrano glass and jewellery. We shopped our way through the streets and emerged on the other side near Pont Rialto. Pont Rialto is the oldest bridge spanning the Grand Canal.

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As peaceful and relaxing a city like Venice is, our relaxation was coming to an end on day 2 of our stay. It was time for us to go through some adrenaline filled drama in Italy. Again!

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I know for the past 7 months of traveling, I have had my fair share of almost missing busses, trains or planes but for some reason in Italy it’s magnified by 110. First Capri and now a massive 20 heart attacks in one! Here is our story.

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We had a porter service from our cruise take our luggage when we checked out at 9AM in the morning. Our flight to Ibiza was not until 19:00 and so it was agreed that at 17:00 we would have our bags waiting for us at the airport as we arrive to check in. We had a lovely relaxing day until then. Well by relaxing I mean hot, sticky and exhausting. We still had our backpacks and carry on and got lost for about 2 hours roaming Venice. Our feet were dying! We were in no rush however and had a lovely pizza lunch by the Pont Rialto to end our afternoon.

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We made it by the Plaza San Marco by 15:30 to catch a public boat-bus – Vaporetto – to the main bus station in Venice. Unfortunately there was a miscommunication with the information lady, because we didn’t realise that we had to catch this for 35 mins and then a bus for 1 hour. Nonetheless, we arrived at the bus station only to find out that the next bus didn’t leave until 5PM (meaning we wouldn’t get to the airport until 6PM). We decided that this was too close to our boarding time, especially since we still didn’t have our luggage. We enquired about a taxi, balked at the price but reasoned that it was more important to be on time for our flight because otherwise we could be in even more trouble.

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We made it to the airport by 17:30 and this is where we realised that our luggage has been delivered to the Marco Polo airport and not the Treviso airport where we were flying from. After a few unhappy phone calls to the company, while trying to get through the Italian language barrier to let them know it was them who were negligent in their service, they agreed to transfer our bags to the airport. This however was not going to get delivered without another hefty, heart stopping price tag. It was 17:45 by this point and estimated time of delivery was 45 minutes. Baggage check in for our flight was to close 40 mins beforehand…

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I am quite proud of the way we handled the situation, Taylor and I for some very strange reason were perfectly calm and poised throughout even though a lot of things were going wrong all at the same time. We agreed to the transfer, which eventually arrived after a gruelling wait, at 18:25. We raced upstairs to check in but we were faced with having to repack our luggage since we were collectively 6kg over. We shoved anything and everything into existing bags and even other plastic bags we had. We sent our luggage on its way and then realised we were left with about 5 bags each of overflowing carry on. This is the part where we no longer looked poised and collected. At this point we would have looked like crazy, sweaty ladies on the run! The lady at the desk forced us to condense our carry on, so we stacked bag inside bag, put on extra clothing and somehow, miraculously, ended up with 2 very dysfunctional bags each.

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It was now 18:45 and we were standing in a very long line to get through security. We couldn’t cut the line because for some reason all the workers kept saying we would be fine and would ‘make it’. This was crazy since it was 19:00 when we got through security.
Luckily we found out the plane was delayed by 12 minutes. Once again we were running like crazy people through the airport to find our gate since apparently the plane was going to fly away in 10 minutes. Somehow, I’m not sure how, we managed to get on the plane and land on the Spanish island of Ibiza.

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