In this guide to the city dedicated to this famous city of Italy, we will evoke everything that is useful to know before visiting Venice. Of course we will see places to see, we will talk about things to do in Venice. But not only! A full part of this guide will cover the practical aspects of a stay: where to stay in Venice, how to get around, when to go, ... and many other topics will be mentioned in this publication.
After reading this post, if you still have questions about visiting Venice, things to do in Venice or purely practical aspects, do not hesitate to leave a comment at the end of this post. . Very often, I respond quickly to comments posted on the blog! In addition, exchanges of comments are often useful for other blog readers who are wondering what to do in Venice and who plan to visit the city soon ...
A sob welled up inside her. She pressed her fist into her mouth to stifle it. Please, Great Mother, help me! She recalled what she had experienced at the mound and the circle of stones—the light from the sky, the people who appeared out of nowhere, the image of Cruthin as Cernunnos. She’d known great magic. But was one night of dazzling wonder worth losing her life? Some time later, she heard Fiach’s voice outside the tent. She moved near the entrance, hoping to learn what their fate would be. A moment later, there was a strangled sound. “He’s gone,” Fiach cried. “Sirona!” Fiach thrust himself into her tent and dragged her out. “Where is he?” Fiach demanded, looming over her. “Where is he?” Sirona shook her head, too startled and stunned to answer. Bryn, who was standing nearby, seized Fiach’s cloak and tried to pull him away. “Leave her alone!” he shouted. “How dare you assault me!” Fiach cried, twisting from Bryn’s grasp. “Leave her alone,” Bryn repeated.
He wrenched his eating knife from his belt and brandished it. “Your father will hear of this,” Fiach muttered. “He won’t be pleased.” To Sirona, he said. “Get up. Get up and tell me what you know of Cruthin’s disappearance.” She stood. “I know nothing.” Fiach’s gaze swept over her and a cruel smile touched his lips. “How does it feel to know your lover has abandoned you? You are cursed, as your mother was.” His mouth twitched, then he turned back to the others. “Tell no one about this,” he said. “We’ll leave for Mordarach tonight, before anyone can discover our prisoner has escaped. We won’t speak of Cruthin ever again. It will be as if he never existed. If you should see him in this realm, I want you to fetch as many warriors as you can and order them to kill him.” Sirona didn’t know whether to be relieved or despairing. If they were going back to Mordarach, then it was unlikely she would be sacrificed. But she would still be punished. Perhaps banished as her mother had been.
The thought made her feel sick inside. Fiach turned back to Sirona. “Take down your tent and pack up your supplies. Quickly.” As soon as Fiach left, Bryn approached Sirona. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you get ready to leave.” * * * Sirona paused on one of the high peaks and surveyed the vast landscape around her. The mountain vistas that had seemed so exhilarating on the journey to the sacred isle now struck her as desolate and lonely. She watched an eagle circle, floating effortlessly on the wind currents. All she could think about was the bird’s ruthless search for prey, and that when it spied a hare or a vole or other small animal, it would swoop down and impale the helpless creature with its huge claws and sharp beak. The next moment, she thought of Cruthin, and her distress turned to anger. He had left her, and without a thought for what might happen to her after he was gone. She tried to tell herself he’d had no choice, that there was no way the two of them could have slipped away without notice. He had chosen to save himself, that’s all. But she knew she would never have abandoned him. “It’s a spectacular view, isn’t it?” Bryn came up behind her. “We’ve been very fortunate it’s been clear both times we’ve crossed the mountains. I’m certain it’s often stormy and blustery, or the sky is heavy with rain clouds. From here, doesn’t it seem you can see to the end of the world?” Sirona nodded, but without conviction.
Beautiful scenery did little to lift her mood. Before leaving for the sacred isle, she’d promised her grandmother she wouldn’t get into trouble on this journey. How miserably she had failed. “Don’t worry,” Bryn said softly. “Once we get back to Mordarach, Fiach will have to defer to my father’s wishes, and Tarbelinus won’t allow the punishment to be too severe.” Sirona looked at him. No matter how much Bryn wanted to protect her, her fate was beyond his control. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me,” she said. “You’ve been a loyal friend.” He moved nearer, his brown eyes hot and intent. “I would like to be more than your friend, Sirona.” She searched her mind for something to say, a means of discouraging him. But after all he’d done for her, every response she thought of seemed too harsh. “Please, I don’t want to speak of these things.” She walked away, retreating once again into the anguish of her thoughts. * * * When they arrived at Mordarach, everyone came out to welcome them.
As soon as she saw Nesta, Sirona stiffened. She could hardly bear to look at her grandmother. Nesta started to make her way over to Sirona. Before she reached her, someone asked, “Where’s Cruthin?” Fiach, who had been quietly talking to Tarbelinus, jerked around. His powerful voice rang out. “The young man called Cruthin has betrayed our tribe and offended the gods. We’ll speak of him no more. He is expelled from the grove, and from our tribe. If he’s ever seen near Mordarach, he’ll be put to death.” Everyone stared at Fiach in stunned silence. Then Tarbelinus said, “Come with me, Fiach.” To the rest of the tribe, the chieftain announced, “Later, when the travelers have washed and rested, we’ll celebrate their return.” Nesta finally reached Sirona. Her blue eyes were dark with concern.
“What happened, Sirona?” Sirona shook her head, fighting back tears. The sense of shame and failure overwhelmed her. Nesta grasped Sirona’s shoulder. “What is it, granddaughter? Why are you so distraught? Is it because Cruthin’s been banished?” “I’m sorry,” Sirona whispered. “I thought... I truly believed we were being guided by the gods.” She turned away. Nesta let out a cry. “Whatever Cruthin did, you were involved as well?” Sirona nodded. “Let’s walk back to the hut. We can speak of this there.” When they reached the dwelling, Sirona sank down on her bedplace. The familiar scents— herbs and cooking—both soothed and tormented her. She might be on the verge of losing everything she cared about. “Sirona,” Nesta said sharply. “Tell me what happened.” She shook her head. “Not now, grandmother, I’m... I’m too tired.” Nesta let out her breath in a long sigh. “Very well. I’ll make you some broth. You should eat something after your long journey.” * * * She was being pursued by wild beasts. When she looked back, their yellow eyes glowed in the mist. She could see the glint of their vicious fangs. Their huge, gaping mouths. A voice told her to surrender, to stop running and let them kill her. But she could not. She did not want to die like that, torn into bloody pieces. Alone in the darkness. “Sirona.” She woke to find Nesta gently shaking her. She clutched Nesta’s hand and sat up on the bedplace, trembling. “Sirona.” Nesta’s voice sounded strained.
A moment later, Sirona turned and saw Tarbelinus sitting near the hearth. The chieftain seemed much too large for the small space. With his masses of tawny gold hair and big, muscular body, he reminded Sirona of a cat waiting to pounce on its prey. It was as if the terrors of her dream had followed her into the waking world. Tarbelinus spoke in his deep voice. “Sirona, you must leave Mordarach. I’m sending you north. Your father is a warrior there, with one of the Brigante tribes. Perhaps you can find him.” She was being sent away. It was as bad as she feared. “I’ll send an escort with you,” Tarbelinus said. “You’ll be safe, guarded at all times.” His expression softened. “It will be better this way. There’s nothing for you here.” Nesta made a choked sound. Sirona looked at her, feeling empty. “The chieftain wants to make certain nothing happens to you,” Nesta said. “Is that not kind of him?” Her voice dripped sarcasm. Sirona looked from her grandmother to the chieftain and back again. “Before I go, I want to hear the truth about Banon.” Something changed in Tarbelinus’s eyes. Sirona could sense hostility... and a kind of fear. “Nay,” he said. “Aye,” said Nesta. “She has a right to know.” Tarbelinus took a deep breath. “I’m responsible for your mother’s death. She didn’t deserve to die... like that anyway.” He paused. “But that’s not to say I’m sorry.” He gestured angrily. “She made my life miserable. She threatened my family. Terrorized Rhyell. I had to send her away. I promised Banon an escort, but... we parted in anger. I should have sent someone after her. But I didn’t.
I must live with that.” He shifted his weight. Sirona could tell he longed to stand up and move about, but the hut was too small. He continued, “Before she left, Banon threatened us. Cursed us. Said the dun would be destroyed. That I would be led away in shackles. She said that Bryn...” He paused again, as if afraid to utter the words. “She said my son would be killed in the first battle he fought in. That’s why I’ve never allowed him to become a warrior.” So, that was the secret Nesta wouldn’t share with her. The reason Tarbelinus had made his son’s life miserable all these years—insisting he train to be a Learned One when he had no calling for it. Thinking about the unhappiness Bryn had experienced because of his father’s decision, Sirona grew angry. “You had no right to try to change Bryn’s destiny,” she said. “If the gods will it, then he will die in battle. His life until then should be of his choosing. Not yours!” “I have every right,” Tarbelinus said. “I’m not merely his father, but also his chieftain. I make use of the abilities of any man of the Tarisllwyth as I see fit.” “You will fail,” Sirona said. The memory came to her swiftly. “I’ve seen a vision of Bryn in battle attire. He’s meant to be a warrior.” Tarbelinus’s blue eyes flashed fire, and he struck her across the face. She fell back. Nesta knelt beside Sirona. “How dare you!” she cried. An image flashed into Sirona’s mind.
A lovely woman with dark gold hair and deep gray eyes stood before Tarbelinus, hands on hips, taunting the chieftain. Her sneering gaze was cold and empty, heartless. Sirona realized she couldn’t blame Tarbelinus. Her mother had been cruel and selfish. She hadn’t cared who she hurt. And her blood runs in your veins. You are cursed as well. As the thought filled Sirona’s mind, she felt cold and sick. Nesta released Sirona. Straightening, head held high, Nesta faced Tarbelinus. “Leave us. I must prepare my granddaughter for her journey.” As soon as Tarbelinus had gone, Sirona turned a pleading look to Nesta, “Grandmother, come with me.” Nesta shook her head. “I would never survive the hardships of the journey.” Sirona felt tears spill down her cheeks. Nesta came to soothe her. “You possess the same sort of power your mother did, although you can choose to use it for good rather than ill. I’m convinced the gods have a purpose for you, and they will protect you.”
“Are you very certain, Grandmother?” Nesta nodded. “Beyond my faith in the gods, I’ve insisted Tarbelinus give you a proper escort and furnish you with supplies and household goods. With that and the wealth you have from your mother—along with your fair face and youth—some northern warrior will be eager to handfast with you.” “But what about... being a Learned One?” “I’m afraid that path is closed to you now. It would have been difficult enough here, among your own people. But to go to another tribe and expect them to accept you as Drui....” Nesta smiled, although the expression looked forced. “Perhaps it’s better this way. You’ll be able to have the life of a normal woman, instead of enduring the rigid discipline of the grove. You’ll have children and enjoy the pleasures of a family.” “But I know nothing about running a household... nor being a wife!” Nesta placed a hand on her arm.
Visit Venice: prepare your stay in Venice
Last part of this guide about Venice. With the previous paragraphs of this post, you should know what to do in Venice and you should not get bored during your visit to the city.
Earlier in this post, we discussed some practical problems, such as plane tickets and accommodation in Venice. Other practical questions may arise before visiting Venice. This is the subject of this last part of the ticket. We are going to discuss, in bulk, several topics that should interest you if you plan to go to Venice for the first time ...
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