A decadent mix of art, palaces and cocktails
My favourite Holiday
Cheltenham-born writer Chloe Esposito now lives in London with her husband Paolo.
A former English teacher and management consultant, Chloe’s acclaimed first novel Mad is just out in paperback, priced £7.99.
Her second, Bad, is out next month, the third is under way and the trilogy has already been optioned by a Hollywood film studio.
M
Y favourite holiday of all time was to Venice, just last month.
Paolo and I visited partly to celebrate our seven-year wedding anniversary and partly to research a future novel, Dangerous To Know, which is set in this unique city.
We splashed out and stayed at the Hotel Danieli, an ancient palazzo on the Grand Canal.
It was our first weekend away without the kids for a year and we wanted to treat ourselves – the Danieli is pure Venetian decadence.
We especially loved the colourful Murano glass chandeliers and the panoramic views of Venice from the roof-top terrace.
We ate the most exquisite lunch at the Gritti Palace restaurant, where we gazed out over the turquoise waters to the Santa Maria della Salute church.
Our waiter recommended a Rossini – strawberry puree mixed with prosecco. I liked it so much, I had three.
Our guided tour of the Doge’s Palace blew our minds. Tintoretto’s masterpiece Il Paradiso is the largest canvas in the world and the dazzling Golden Staircase is decorated in gold.
We couldn’t resist a gondola ride. I loved watching the world go by, listening to water splashing against oyster-covered palazzo walls.
We took a vaporetto boat to the beach at Venice Lido. There, we enjoyed Aperol Sunsets (blood-red Italian liqueur mixed with freshly squeezed orange juice) and licked the sea-salt from our fingers from the complimentary crisps. The warm sun felt hot on our skin as a breeze floated in from the Adriatic.
We walked along the promenade past the famous Hotel Des Bains. The delicate scent of jasmine blossom filled the evening air.
But my favourite thing has to be our midnight stroll across San Marco. The sound of Vivaldi drifted from the string quartets at the cafès.
The piazza had flooded and great silver puddles had formed on the square. The reflections of the Basilica di San Marco and the brightly-lit colonnades looked like something from a dream.
They took my breath away.