After, unfortunately, another bad night's sleep, we pulled into Venice at about nine thirty in the morning. You come out of the station onto a raised plaza above the water, so your very first sight is Venice spread out in front of you. With our nine pieces of luggage, though, it was a problem, since the only way to get to the hotel is to go down the steps, across another plaza, then find either a water taxi (eighty euros) or take the public water bus, the Vaporetto. We economized and chose the latter, and in blazing heat somehow managed to get ourselves and all our bags onto the crowded public boat. We then had some time to cool off and start admiring Venice before another horrible struggle with our luggage as we disembarked and manhandled our luggage over a couple of bridges, and up tight alleys, to our hotel. There the manager took one look at our bags, shook his head, and offered us a private apartment for the same price as our hotel room. So we had to get our bags through more tight alleys and across more bridges.

Finally, though, we were in our apartment, which was, thankfully, well air-conditioned, had a quick shower, then went off to explore Venice. I think we both immediately fell in love with the city - it's hard not to; it's not like anywhere else. Around every single corner there's something of interest; a canal, or a bridge with old buildings of casual beauty and decay; and shops with various artisan work going on - mask painting, metalwork, art restoration. And no cars anywhere.

Ben, on a bridge in Venice

Over the next day, we walked and walked, with no set itinerary, and not even a glance at the guidebook, our feet just taking us wherever seemed most interesting. Our first morning in Venice started badly for me, though. I'd slept badly again, and woke up feeling I looked tired and haggard; so a little bit of self-hatred set in. I looked at Ben then looked at myself in the mirror and started to feel bad about myself. But Venice was so wonderful, and it was magical to be encountering it in such an aimless, random fashion with Ben by my side, with no disagreement between us about where to go next, and the bad mood started to drain away. I've inherited my Dad's fascination with his surroundings. Like him, I love to notice beautiful sights, odd little architectural pieces, and funny looking people. And Ben is exactly the same way.

One of an infinite number of magnificent church facades in Venice

The obligatory canal shot. How to choose from five thousand photogenic canal shots?

I've traveled to so many wonderful places by myself; I remember the joy of wandering Rome and happening upon the Forum, which I'd not yet read about. But I also remember the wistfulness of wishing I had somebody special to share the discoveries with. In my wildest dreams, I never believed it would happen that I'd be falling in love with Venice side by side with the love of my life.

Ben on another bridge in Venice

Sitting by the Grand Canal in a cafe, Ben was telling me a story about someone he met when he was on a trip somewhere. I asked him that I thought that at that time he was still in a monogamous relationship with his ex-boyfriend, and he explained to me that they opened up their relationship after three years. I had a sudden attack of anxiety as I contemplated Ben asking me, some day, if we could open up the relationship; I've never been in a relationship long enough to reach the point where I'd be comfortable with that, and I question whether I ever will want to do that. So I asked him about that scenario; how would he feel if he, in the future, wanted to open up our relationship, and I didn't. I'm not sure I got a complete answer - after all, who can forsee the future - maybe after a few years I will want to open up the relationship. But he said that he didn't think it would be important to him; that it had been his ex-boyfriend who'd wanted to open the relationship up.

St Marks Square

A gondola in the Grand Canal

After a long nap, we walked over to the hotel where we were supposed to be staying to meet Bill and Stefan, who'd flown in from Paris that evening. (In the past I've referred to them as B & S in these pages, since I'd never asked them if they minded referring to them in my journal.) We all had an extremely expensive dinner date lined up at Gran Restaurante Caffe Quadri - a venerable restaurant in St Marks Square, where, apparently, Bonaparte dined once. It was Ben's birthday, so he got a freebie. The atmosphere in St Marks Square at dusk was magical (sorry to keep using this word in reference to Venice but it's so apt), with flocks of people, the magnificent basilica lit by the evening sun, and the restaurant orchestras playing in three different sections of the square.

In St Marks Square before Ben's birthday dinner

I have to say the dinner was way overpriced - six hundred Euros (which translates to seven hundred and fifty dollars) for the four of us, and snooty service. And the food was not even spectacular; no wonder the place was only a quarter full. After the table had been cleared, I gave Ben his birthday presents, which I'd spent so much time choosing. And it touched me that the most intimate, personal of the gifts brought tears to his eyes.