Getting lost is easy. I jumped on a boat that took me to Lido, which I knew right away was the wrong place for me…cars. After taking one photo, I found a new boat. Smaller, sleaker, taking me back to Venice, but I realize my problem. Same one I have at home, I need my own boat. 
Now I’m in Santa Elana. The football stadium is here, and surprisingly a baileys and coffee is €3. Wish I could stay on this island a while, it’s towering trees, quiet, well kept neighborhood, underpriced cafe, but I have so much more to do. Thank you for the rest, warmth, and coffee to go!
Back on the little water bus again, headed nowhere, somewhere, who knows? If you say the Captain….Bienalle, ok, but that’s the same place. Damn headed back to Marcos square. The yachts look familiar.
I could see where I wanted to go. Guess I’m going to have to hoof it. I do need to go to the Guggenheim, Peggy was pissed I missed her yesterday, and she wasn’t open earlier. Yes, I’ll go visit now.
A Warrior Writes 