We had a great breakfast and made plans for the day. The weather was still cold but set to improve with some sign of the sun by afternoon. We decided to take advantage of a complementary water taxi to see the Ballerin glass factory and show room on Murano Island, then have a condoler ride in the afternoon, then out for dinner.
Murano Is was special . We watched an intricate glass bowl being made from glass sticks, then we were shown through the show room, which included exhibitions of many Murano glass artists. The creations were unbelievable and so were some of the prices. Susan made the mistake of showing Rena a vase she liked best, within earshot of staff. Next thing I was being summonsed to view the cut glass vase as a potential birthday gift for Susan's 50th on Apr 6th. Although I quickly assessed that Susan was not seriously interested, I was well and truly set up with the manager thinking he might have a sale. It was a beautiful vase and mounted on a solid glass base, it would have survived a reasonable quake at home in Christchurch; however the ticket price was 12,400 Euros and with no encouragement from me the final best price had dropped to 3,600 Euros, shipped home. They must be doing it hard in the Murano glass industry, but we have better things to spend that kind of money on.
The return from Murano was by waterbus back to St Mark's square; second time was better in the warmth and sun . A gelato and then we headed back to the hotel via the same route as the day before, via Ponte de Rialto. I headed off in advance to get another sim card from the TIM store we found yesterday. Without a map, I was going on memory; I took a wrong turn and ended up taking the outside and longer route tracking the grand canal back to Piazzale Roma and our hotel. I passed a lot of shops and hotels that the others would have liked to have seen and passed by the railway station we were to catch our train to Florence the next day. I made it back to the hotel before the others - probably because they waited for me in the TIM store. All helpful, but as far as the rest were concerned I got lost!
A wine and beer at the Trattoria next to the hotel then we walked 100m to pick up our gondoler.  Our gondolier was called Adamo, a son and brother of venetian gondoliers. Adamo was brilliant and related really well with the personalities on board. I wanted to record the journey on a map for posterity, so attempted to relate ground to map and confirmed where we were with Adamo a few times, much to his amusement - I was nominated as his 'GPS' and when he received a healthy tip he jokingly offered to pay me some back.
Another wine in the sun across from our hotel while the girls kept an eye on us from their room. We booked our evening meal at the Trattoria alle Birchielle right next to the hotel Olimpia, which had been family owned since 1503. It was lovely meal with Rob and I sharing a huge seafood pasta and then a couple of grapas with the host Bruno after the girls had left for bed.