As the waters rose, we sipped our pinot

this week’s winner, recalls getting wet feet on the night Venice’s acqua alta came up against the bulldog spirit

The intense wailing of a siren directly outside our restaurant was the first sign that things were not quite as they should be. The timing was awry, too, this being the precise moment when our meal was served at the table – the much anticipated local delicacy of Venetian liver with polenta, accompanied by a fine pinot noir.

Our lack of panic was purely down to the calmness, some might say total nonchalance, of the restaurant staff who were now placing barriers and sand bags against the doors, in between taking orders from diners in, it has to be said, varying states of distress.

We soon discovered the reason for this siren. We had somehow contrived to book our holiday in Venice in the middle of acqua alta, the flooding of the Venetian lagoon that periodically turns St Mark’s Square into something more resembling a mini Lake Garda.

Being very British about it all, we continued with our meal, oblivious to the panic ensuing around us from diners of varying nationalities. We only began to question our decision to remain seated when we noticed that the flood waters were now not only seeping under the sandbagged doors of the restaurant but, more worryingly, were rising up through the floor.

“Is normal, is normal!” the waiter kept repeating to us – and we assumed this was so on account of the regulated holes in the floor to cater for such an event.

The liver and polenta was in fact very good and fully justified our stiff upper lip and bravery – that is, if one could ignore what can only be described as the unsavoury aroma of the creeping flood waters now rising above our footwear. By this time, only two couples remained in situ – both British, of course – and we continued to dine in a situation that was fast becoming like the final classic scene from Carry On Up the Khyber, the mood helped somewhat by that fine pinot.

We did, in fact, stay until the bitter end, or at least until our final espresso was consumed (by us, not the rising water) and the bill settled. So impressed were the restaurant staff with our bulldog spirit, two pairs of galoshes were kindly provided for our thankfully short wade back to the warm and dry confines of our hotel.

We dined in this same restaurant on subsequent nights and could not fail to notice the extra warmth, in both the welcome and the service, on our arrival. That first evening was to be the highest tide of this particular acqua alta, and we were able to dine on the following evenings with dry feet. To be perfectly honest, though, we did rather miss the excitement of that first soggy, unforgettable night in Venice.

Steve Green,

Our lack of panic was down to the calmness and total nonchalance, of the restaurant staff

COLOMBIAN CULTURE People enjoy the relaxed vibe at a neighbourhood restaurant in Medellin