We met our driver, Beppe, at the Plaza della Roma at 8:30 to hit the road for Florence.
The flight to Venice was pretty uneventful. Slept through most of it. But a smooth ride most of the way, with the exception of the landing at Venice’s Marco Polo airport. Apparently, the way it works is the Pilot closes his eyes and shouts “Marco!” and the traffic control tower shouts “Polo!” and the pilot has to try to figure out where the runway is. After several back-and-forths, we finally touched down. On someone’s roof.