day 1 & 2 (Frankfurt), day 3 (Frankfurt & Switzerland), day 4 (Switzerland), day 5 (Switzerland), day 6 (Milan), day 7 (Padua & Venice), day 8 (Venice).
day 9, as mentioned in the previous post, we started the day trying to enjoy the outdoor patio that came with the room.
But it was cold and wet and I had to eat with someone who refused to bulge from the door frame, ready to spring into the warmth of the room anytime. Breakfast al-fresco? Nay, overrated.
We got some time on our hands before we have to head back to the train station for our next destination. I thought there was a fish market going on under the Rialto Bridge, but there was only hardworking workers moving boxes of fishes from the canal to restaurants and stacked-up tables along the bank. Where is the market?

how many bottles of wine do I have to finish before I can plaster their labels all over the ceiling like this?

the Scala dei Giganti, where Neptune and Mars stayed frozen in time and witnessed doges after doges being crowned here after a service in St Mark’s.

drop your grievances here into the lion's mouth, be truthful or suffer the same sentence the person you accused would had received!

going through the prison cells where Cassanova and 1 other inmate infamously escaped (through the roof and back into the palace before walking right out from the main door, no less!) and over the Bridge of Sighs, where it was under extensive maintainance the time we were there..

we were walking out via the cafe when I saw this. I love it that this is right beside a canal and that little star-like fairylights were hanging overhead.
The Doge’s Palace was such a maze that it took us some time to get out, rendering us half an hour late to check out. The landlord was not very happy. Then, I fell down the stairs. Not because of the landlord’s fury but because my sling bag was in front of me on top of my puffy winter jacket, so much so that i couldn’t see the step in front of me. The overweight backpack on my entire back was an accomplice for making the fall down faster and badder, so much weight in it and not a slice of conscience, tsk tsk tsk. I made a few high-pitched noises for a few minutes before I felt ok to stand up and walk. That was why, thereafter, I referred to my right foot as “pig trotter”(because of the persistent swelling and patch of blue-black). I’m still thanking God, it could’d been worse!
On to Florence!

bushyhead claims this is the best train food in the world. it's not too shabby for a margherita pizza bought from the train station!

seeing we had an evening wrth of time, we went out for a walk. The boutique hotel alone had so much to see! I went shutter-crazy.

can you already tell how much I love this washroom near the hotel lounge? especially that paint on the wall and the complimenting shades and whiteness... ♥♥♥!!

who knows if we were rubbing shoulders with supermodels and the fashion whos-whos in this one. the outdoor bar was a surprise!

note: man making food from where we can see him, not flipping pizza but thats still a plus point if you read my previous post!

It's called The Honesty Bar because they trust the patrons to help themselves to the drinks and then write down their orders for the staff. unfortunately it was not open. i suspect it's the winter. i hope it's not dishonesty.
wine-tasting the next day!


















































































































































































































































































… when even eating a take-away croissant looks glamorous? Realistically speaking, I knew I wouldn’t look like that when first of all, my flabby arms will just look like a blob of jelly with a pair of opera gloves eating away that much length off my arms. But that doesn’t stop me from getting one anyways! And so I got these.






