Venice Saturday 17 May, Day 24.

Today we did a dry run of our departure and caught the vaporetto round to the train station. Takes about 15 minutes on the boat, probably quicker to walk but much less effort as long as the boat isn't too packed Monday morning. Our plan was to get off there and catch the vaporetto down to Saint Mark's, but we could see the queue stretching back on the dock, so we stayed on the one we were on and had a lovely ride down the back of the main island, parallel to the causeway over which the rail line runs. A nice, older Venetian lady with a shopping jeep - which seems to be the number one fashion accessory for older Venetian ladies - took a shine to us and gave us lots of advice about things we should see in Venice. She had no English and we had very little Italian, so no doubt we missed a lo but it was a nice interaction, and we shook hands and farewelled one another fondly when we got off. 

We worked our way through the little streets across to the Rialto Market.  Anne wanted to buy a sun hat, and the lady at the hotel and a friend who happened to be visiting had, after much discussion, advised us of a shop near the market. We found the general area, and sought advice from a wonderfully courtly proprietor of a nearby Tobacc, who with grave courtesy and kindness directed us the last few metres to the shop, which indeed provided just the item Anne was after.  Caught another vaporetto to a nearby stop, and came back to the hotel to regroup.

In the afternoon we visited the nearby Gallerie_dell'Accademia. As per usual, we managed to walk right past the entrance and had to circumnavigate the building. But it was worth the walk. The gallery was hosting an exhibition of the work of an artist we had never heard of, Carlo_Saraceni, an early Baroque Italian painter who was rather unkindly described as "a first-class painter of the second rank".  Anne thought his Saint Cecilia and the Angel was one of the best paintings in the Galleria.

There are some wonderfully bizarre works of early Italian painting in that collection, some weird but recognizable cityscapes of Venice, some huge and some impenetrable allegorical images, but the painting that Anne and I both independently (as we'd lost one another by this stage) decided we liked best was one entitled Madonna del Parto, by none other than the Maestro Della Madonna del Parto.

I particularly like the direct gaze, and that she is thoughtfully seated on a comfy cushion.

We had an extremely civilized meal at a nearby restaurant, explored a few more streets nearby. We can now navigate Dorsodura without getting lost. Nearly time to move on.