AirFrance is one of the ritziest airlines I've been on. We flew non-stop from SFO to Paris CDG on huge airbus plane. Economy class was cramped as usual, bot worse because our seats were in front of the restrooms, so didn't recline all the way. But the food was excellent, the wine was free, and I did manage to sleep a few hours. I loved the little TV in the seat in front of me where I could watch movies or other entertainment and get details about where we were in flight. I'm such a geek. 36, 000 feet cruising altitude, almost 60 mph ground speed, -77 degrees F outside. We did get rather chilly shortly before arrival in Paris, but that may have been an intentional cabin adjustment to wake us all up for landing. We negotiated the transfer to our flight to Venice successfully - all the way from one end of the huge CDG airport to the other - with a tiny bit of time to spare. The flight to Venice was short and over gorgeous countryside. We flew up through clouds covering the city that looked like the sea from above, then broke over the mountains of southern France and northern Italy. Dark rocks stabbed up through pools of brilliant snow and I imaginined the characters in "A Thread of Grace" living in those hills and valleys. It is so amazing having that particular story fitting into a real context. First, Grandad mentions his trip to Venice on leave in 1948 (part of the Allied troops), and then we fly over these very mountains.
Public transportation is confusing in Venice, though I think we have figured out the vaporetto pretty well. We negotiated trip from the airport by bus to the vaporetto, then vaporetto to the stop near our hotel without incident, despite our extreme exhaustion. 
We arrived just at sunset and the sky behind Santa Maria della Salute was incredible. My camera was still buried for safe travel in my luggage, but I snapped a quick shot with Lisa's little camera. It didn't capture the picture I wanted, but I have that image saved in memory as one of those ephemeral moments. It is very cold, and it got dark fast. They are very nice at the hotel, and we have a quiet little room facing out onto a small piazza with a private entrance. The hotel clerk recommended that we head back to the area near the Rialto bridge for dinner. We wandered, dazed, through the maze of brightly-lit and crowded shopping area, and stumbled onto a tiny, osteria hidden down a little alley that ends at a canal. One way the bustle of shopping, the other way the quiet of ancient Venice. I love it here. We get pizza - an entirely different matter in Venice than in Florence - and envy the diners at the next table who order cioccolato caldo that put to shame anything the chichi coffee shop in Santa Cruz serves. We are entertained by the animated conversation of the obvious locals who stand to drink their wine at the bar, but we are falling asleep over our plates, so we cross our fingers that we can find this place again tomorrow and bundle up to head back. We only got on the vaporetto in the wrong direction for one stop and when we get back to the hotel we crash, exhausted.
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