Sono arrivato!

After weeks of fretting, packing, unpacking, repacking, changing my mind, more fretting and really, wondering if I'm being ridiculous, I'm now in Venice. My eldest son is looking after my London flat, and I'm on a open-ended stay, nominally for a year, but who knows?

My flight brought me in early and I got to Piazzale Roma and on to a number 1 vaporetto that slipped along the Grand Canal, past the Casino, the Fondaco dei Turchi, Ca d'Oro and under Rialto bridge

You know that sensation; when you come awake and have absolutely no idea of where you are? A seagull cries, a boat reverses, down below, the click of heels on the stone street. Yes, I'm in Venice.

I get up, still dazed, shower and out. The best brioches have already gone and today I don't care if I get a raised eyebrow at my request for a cuppucino at such a late hour. Crossing the Ponte de Pugni I meet someone who looks familiar, I shake his hand and exchange pleasantries, five steps later I realise that I've never met him before, or have I? Venice is full of recognisable faces, you get a smile from someone and can't place them until you realise that without his waiter's jacked and apron he's merely someone in the street, but waiters become friends, respect flows in both directions.

I buy some vague supplies from the fruit and veg barge, greet Ricky from the Pugni bar, and wander away. This is the first time that I've been in Venice as a simple flaneur. I have no purpose except to simply be, and I'm already starting to like it.