Venice on Sunday: La dolce vita

The Sunday begins with an opulent breakfast by Italian standards, featuring three different cakes, rolls, Pannetone, cheese, ham, various spreads, yogurt, cereals, but they still need to learn about greens and fruits. The machine offers coffee in about 12 different variations. The nuns clear the tables and wipe them down. Strictly from 7 to 9.

I'm entertained by observing the couples at the tables and think you can clearly see who among them had a delightful night and who did not. Most of them seem miserable... Only the cheerful American quartet at the adjacent table appears to be having a great time, chatting and giggling non-stop.

I set off to stroll through the San Polo district. Here lies a small, very rundown Palazzo, San Pantalon, featuring a work by Banksy, which I visit every time. To my utter disappointment, “The Migrant Child” is covered with white tarps and currently being restored. It has apparently been completely removed and taken elsewhere. I can only hope that it doesn't end up in a museum, but is reinstated at its original location.

In Campo San Polo, with its beautiful large trees, many people are already seated in the cafés and on the red benches, reading newspapers and enjoying the Sunday.

Beautiful choral music draws me into one of the churches, which is packed for the Sunday service. The mass lasts two hours, it sounds and smells wonderful, but after a while, I've had enough and move on through the streets.

For lunch today, there's Cicchetti, the Venetian small sandwiches topped with outrageous delicacies, and a Spritz in the piazza, dolce vita at its finest.

In the afternoon, I find myself in another church, where a poster indicates a choir from Massachusetts is supposed to give a guest concert, which turns out to be quite a disaster, as both the choir and instrumentalists need to practice a bit more.... I grit my teeth.

However, in the evening, a wonderful piano concert takes place on the upper floor of the La Fenice opera house, which had totally burned down a few years ago and was lovingly reconstructed in painstaking detail. The magnificent Sale Apollinee shines again in gold and crystal without appearing sterile or brand new.

The concert featuring Italian pianist Axel Trolese is breathtaking; during the encore, a piece by de Falla, he almost falls off the stool from enthusiasm.

It's great fun to observe the