Romance on the Canals

Ah Venice! You beautiful romantic city of canals and cannoli.

When opportunity strikes, I jump at the chance to head off to a new city to explore and discover the great delights of another culture. A business trip is no different.

Flying on Emirates A380 in Business Class is just the tip of the princess iceberg, starting with Moét and Veuve on virtual tap and eating my way across the globe for 27hrs.

#traveltip Number 1 - Wear expandable clothing and eat nothing for a week prior to flying

On arrival into Marco Polo airport, we had the option to catch a public ferry or pay a few extra hundred euros and live like George Clooney in a highly polished wooden speedboat. We didn't feel like George Clooney and jetlag hand't yet kicked in so we caught the public ferry for a couple of Euros.

We got in on a Saturday afternoon after 27hrs of travel, an early night was on the agenda for our first night. As we were staying at the Hilton Molino Stucky, we took advantage of the rooftop bar to enjoy the sunset, beer and cocktails before throwing our exhausted selves into our room.

The Hilton is a ferry ride to the main island, located on Giudecca which only added to the romance of Venice.


#traveltip Number 2 - Embrace your jetlag. 

Jetlag means waking at ridiculous times, which is a blessing when you're in a city with a zillion tourists who all want to see the same sights. We ventured across to San Marco Square extremely early (6am), before everyone else woke up. Having the place to ourselves meant we could wander aimlessly in relative peace, exploring the beauty of Basillica and surrounds. Sadly there are limited coffee options at that hour, but the wait for our first Italian coffee was worth it!


#traveltip Number 3: Visit Venice in Aqua Alto season. 

Despite everything you read in Lonely Planet, Rough Guides and every other travel book/blog on the planet - don't listen to them. 

The floods were awesome! 

I was confused at first with sightings of the scaffolded walkways. I thought there was a power-broking construction project happening all over the island. I soon discovered these were walkways to avoid the high waters. Its starts of as a few mils of water and after a few hours you're breaststroking your way to an Aperol Spritz. 

if you're packing light (like I do), and can't fit your Hunter Gumboots in your luggage, don't fret. Every corner sells disposable bright orange plastic covers for your shoes. Italy is the country of "style" - which is not quite how I'd describe the covers. I refused to wear them and sadly my beautiful boots got ruined. But I remained semi stylish while I ruined them, and on the plus side it meant I didn't have to pack them to return to Aus. 

#traveltip Number 4: Aperol Spritz and tasty little morsels

I get that I'm a late adopter of the trends. Always have been. But my god, the discovery of the Spritz was nothing short of winning the lotto! Every glass came with a bowl of potato chips and when we went slightly more fancy, a bowl of olives! 

Its fairly easy to wonder and stumble across something truly amazing in Venice. One of my favourites was a a quite little cafe bar called Al Parlamento - unassuming, affordable and amazing! There were a few others we found by accident, which is the way to go in Venice. 

Don't plan. Wander. 

#traveltip Number 5: Bring on the romance. 

The most beautiful aspect of Venice is that there are no cars. No cars means no traffic noise and no streetlights. Just cute little street lights lighting the alley ways and canals and a gentle ambience to guide you to little wine bars. 

If you really have to jump in a gondola, do so. For me they seemed constructed and awkward and overpriced so we stuck to walking and getting lost in little alleyways. 


A week in Venice was enough of an entree to make we want to return to Italy. 

#traveltip Number 6: Holiday hangover is best cured with arranging another holiday. 

I'm now planning our Eastern Europe holiday for 2016.... Watch this space

My Happy Ending Massage

A love of many western travellers is to head off to a tropical location and soak up the humidity, sandy beaches, cocktails and all round Zen-ness. 

Sometimes beers beside the pool. Or sand between the toes. 

Sometimes pampering. 

Sometimes more than just pampering, like a massage with a little bit extra. 

So this is what happened to a friend of a friend of mine. Or me. Actually it was me. This happened to me. 

After leaving a job that I really loved, I decided to head off to Cambodia and stop feeling sorry for myself. I arrived in Phnom Penh and joined a house building group in a rural village. 

Our little group built 40 amazing little houses in one week! It was hard work in searing heat, and for someone who had never held a hammer before, physically exhausting. I had blisters on blisters and in places I don't care to mention. 

After a week of banging out a few houses, I decided to head into a local massage parlour and get me some pampering. Manicure, pedicure and a full body massage for $12. Bargain. 

Only, I got more than I bargained for. 

Feet and hands done, I was ushered into a quiet cool dark room with a water feature and statue of Buddha. Some kind of water music was playing. 

Naked, lying on my tummy on the bed, I didn't see my masseur enter and my only visual of him was through the little face-hole in my bed. He had six toes on each foot. Possibly he had six fingers on each hand as well. 

He was good. Strong hands needling out all those builders knots. My back turned to jelly, so he moved down to my legs. Starting off gently at my ankles, he worked his way up the backs of my thighs - quite "up" and he wasn't slowing down. I wasn't quite sure where he intended to stop and it was bordering on awkward so I shifted a little on the table and he moved to the next leg. Moving pretty close to my lady parts I shifted again and he returned to my neck and back. 

When he got to the knots in my lower back I felt something on my arm as he pressed against me. He worked his way pressing against my arm and the "something" got harder and harder. 

A sole female, completely naked on the table in a massage place where English was limited, I was pretty vulnerable. 

A polite "No thank you" worked it's magic and he retreated to the door only to have the Madame of the parlour come in and ask me to leave. 

Thankfully I live to tell the tale that my happy ending wasn't a "happy ending"