Suspect Everyone! Pickpocket City.

Mike and I had been to Venice before as youngsters and Iiked that we had been there but wouldn’t generally have gone back. I’m so glad we did. Last time we visited we stayed on the mainland. This time I chose a neighbourhood called Cannaregio.

Why choose this area? Well as we all know I LOVE the planning part of holidays. Just as much as the trip itself. I kid you not! I researched everything with enthusiasm.

Google and one of the Facebook groups I joined called Italy with Kids, told me the neighbourhood “Cannaregio is the most northern of the neighbourhoods and one of the most culturally interesting parts of the city. It's far away from the more popular, more touristy areas, but it has that small town charm that makes it one of the coolest places to visit in Venice.” SOLD! It’s where a lot of the locals live and a bit more of the “real” Italy which is really cool to be amongst, has great genuine restaurants and most importantly, it’s less crowded.

Our air bnb host told us that there are 50,000 Venetians that live on the island and then 120,000 day trippers each day. Crazy! They prefer the people that stay there and put money into the city rather than just come for the day and leave without spending much.

We were warned by practically everyone we met in Venice and on the way to Venice (the ladies with dogs on the train) that there is a serious problem post Covid with pick pocketers. Apparently a group of Romanians are the biggest problem. They dress like tourists and are hard to spot. Nothing like rocking up with 5 of us to keep an eye on (three of which are wearing backpacks and feeling like slow turtles) and feeling a little uneasy in new and hectic surroundings.

We got off the train and had walked 100 metres when Isla spoke to me, I remember unconsciously checking my handbag to see if it had been locked up and then realised I wasn’t even carrying to stupid thing. I’d done an Isla! I yelled to Mike but he couldn’t hear me, he was too far ahead. I yelled again. Nothing like an Australian accent ringing through the train station. He still didn’t hear. Whatever! I’ll leave him to the kids. I turned around and started running. Not easy with my giant backpack on and wheeling Isla’s suitcase. More like shuffling. I looked and felt stupid. Our NYC friend and her dog saw me stumble past with her mouth wide open.

My first problem was which bloody train was it? There were two identical red trains. My brain couldn’t work fast enough and I couldn’t remember the train number or which direction we got off on. I saw the train conductor and yelled

to her that I had left my bag. She didn’t understand! I said “Is it going, is it going to go?” She said no. But I wasn’t sure if she understood. I could see Mike and the kids running up the platform behind me so I left Isla’s small suitcase next to the train and pulled myself up the carriage we were in. Next problem was remembering my seat number. I couldn’t. We’ve been on that many trains x 5 seat numbers each time….I couldn’t remember. So then I felt like I was in some sort of game show hunting for the prize. Amazing Race here I come! But trying not to panic as our “ prize” had not only my phone in it but our primary credit card and the contact info for our accommodation.

Alas there it was sitting there right where I left it. Now to disembark and face the firing line which is three children ready to tell me off. And they did! How come Dad yelled at Isla but not at you? How come it’s ok you leave it but Isla couldn’t? Mum why did you just leave my suitcase and all my stuffed toys on the side of the train for the pick pockets? I flapped my Italian gestured arms around. Apologised, accepted their comments then said “basta” which means “enough” (we say it when we’ve eaten enough and hear Italian parents say it to their kids all the time. “Basta! Start walking!”

So anyone that’s been to Venice train station before knows the sight you see as you leave it. There’s the Grand Canal in all its glory and the Rialto Bridge. And THOUSANDS of people. The ones like us standing gob smacked, the tourists racing with their enormous suitcases for a train, the tourists changing clothes and holding up human traffic for their instagram shot on the bridge, dogs…always dogs, the men offering porter services and of course the pick pockets.. EVERYWHERE! Suspect everyone!

I of course stopped for a quick photo. Maxy always waits for me and then holds my hand . And we walk together like that until one of us gets too sweaty. I think he thinks I’m struggling to keep up so I praise his empathy for looking after someone. This holiday is filled with opportunities and life lessons. I love it!

We reach our apartment building which is right at the base of Guglie Bridge. It is about 10 minutes from the train but much, much more relaxed. Just enough people passing through to make it lively.

Our concierge is waiting for us. This has happened a few times now where the apartment is owned by someone but they have a “concierge” who is hired to let you in. They call them a “friend” but it turns out that person has many apartments they greet people at. This person was called Lionella and her English was amazing. She showed us through our apartment which was dark and hot. It was stuck in a time warp. I love that it didn’t phase any of us. We’re used to the Italian decor now. The bedding linen is usually as old as the house. Side note: not once this entire trip have we been given any more than a base sheet and flat sheet. At first we were horrified. Actually the whole trip you can’t help but feel strange getting into the bed. We are doona sleepers. Even in Summer. In fact Max and I often sleep with a weighted blanket. So this always felt very strange to just have a sheet. But it worked.

As soon as Lionella left we cranked the air con and pushed open the shutters! I always feel like I’m in a movie pushing open the shutters! I love them. Mike always shuts them and locks them up again when we go out. In case Spider Man or an expert climber wants to break in and steal our passports from the 4th floor. We don’t call him Safety Pants for nothing.

Mike and I head out to the supermarket. Oh my goodness the walk there is stunning. People are along the canals and drinking aperol sprits and enjoying Venice’s famous cicchetti which is beautiful finger food. Our host explained that Venetians eat cicchetti all day every day as they walk everywhere on the islands and need stamina. Children are playing, buskers are entertaining and the shade brings much relief on our walk.

We would never have found the supermarket if Lionella had not told us about it. She shared that originally in Venice they had 40 something cinemas and theatres. She said all but 4 of them have now been turned into supermarkets to keep up with the tourist demand. So this supermarket did not say supermarket, the stone carving on the building said Cinema in Italian. It had

such a grand entrance. It was spectacular to say the least. The most beautiful building I’ve ever been in as a supermarket. The entire ceiling was painted in magnificent art and they still used the lighting and stage at the front where a big deli counter now stood. I’ll post a picture!

On returning to the apartment we messaged the kids and tried to call them to open up the door. Nobody responded at first. They assured us they would. Mike started yelling out to them. Still nobody answered. Much to the amusement of the people eating their dinner next to us. I yelled in my teacher voice and then Kayden came down to the door. His hair was soaked. What the heck? He was all flustered. Apparently while we were out the air conditioner started leaking non stop. The three kids worked together to collect towels (who wants a dry towel anyway) and some pots and pans to collect the water. He used the water to cool off. I guess at least the apartment wasn’t on fire while they were on their own right?

We told the kids we were heading out to aperitivo (pre meal drinks and nibbles) and invited them along. They all politely declined. We explained that if they needed us they could stick their head out the window of our apartment and they might see us and if not, we would be nearby somewhere and they can always reach us on Kids Messenger or WhatsApp.

Mike and I sat down for our drink in the shade of a shade cloth angled a certain way to block the in a bar below. We couldn’t see the apartment but we were pretty close. My aperol spritz had the biggest green olive I’ve ever seen.

It was really yummy to eat. Im guessing I was supposed to eat it? So we’re sitting there enjoying our drinks and Max darts across the many tourists and locals out and about. What the heck Max! He has the biggest grin on his face and he’s wearing his little cap looking gorgeous as ever. We asked him what on Earth he was doing. He said “oh the others didn’t want to come so I thought I’d come find you on my own.” Oh gosh. We said what if you didn’t find us? “Oh id just to sit on the step of our apartment and wait. Side note: every single apartment we have stayed in had 2 doors. One on the street that you need a code or key for and then through a courtyard or up stairs to the main door. Very secure! But Max what if we took forever? Oh I’d just wait.

So we moved to a larger table which was now in view of our apartment and ordered Max a drink. He also chose some yummy cicchetti for us to share. The next minute we spot Isla’s head popping out of our apartment windows. She’s looking for us! We all wave and her face lights up as she sees us. She must have called for Kayd because he then pops out too. We are all waving and Max holds up his drink and food showing it off to his siblings. Kayden and Isla disappear. Mike and both look at each other at the same time and realise what could be about to happen. Mike gets up and bolts to the apartment and starts yelling up the window. If Kayden and Isla both run down to meet us, they won’t bring the key (which is inserted into a power thing at the front door to run the electricity). We would all be locked out! Good thing is they weren’t planning on joining us, they were raiding some lollies in the kitchen.

That evening we went out for a gondola ride. We walked about 15 minutes and then found a gondolier ready to take us. Mike and I never did it last time. This time the kids were paying with their pocket money which was 100 euro. This is the same price across Venice this summer I believed. I was nervous about the movement on the water but was ok. We started in the quiet canals which was very pretty and then finished on the Grand Canal just as the sun was setting. The colour of the buildings and the reflection on the water was so special. The kids were quiet and taking it all in (or bored). The gondolier didn’t sing, much to my disappointment, so once again I find myself humming along in all the videos I took. No worries, instagram can cover that up with music.

Once complete we walked back to the apartment and stopped for gelato. It was the worst we had on the trip unfortunately but it filled the spot and no dinner was required. We all went to bed rather tired. Well Mike and I did. Apparently the three kids stayed up chatting. We couldn’t hear them over the noise of the street and of course the air conditioning water leaking into the pots. And chatting and being silly with your siblings when the lights are out are all part of core childhood memories right?