It was Venice in high season. Tourist groups thronged the piazzas (those flags!) while day trippers from Mestre and beyond hunkered down in the waterfront food emporiums that promise food just like "back home" (plastic-wrapped menus with lurid illustrations). After several days in an airless B&B with views of an air-conditioning duct, we were ready for an overnight stay at the legendary Cipriani hotel, just a 10-minute ride from St Mark’s Square on a swanky private launch — but a world away from the scourge of mass tourism. While we waited for the hotel’s boat my friend, deeply embarrassed, pretended not to know me; earlier, I had made the cardinal error of buying an "original" Louis Vuitton weekend bag from a smooth-talking sidewalk salesman. The other guests on our launch pretended not to notice. Long known as a hidey-hole for celebrities, the Cipriani in all its dusky-pink glory is nothing if not discreet. We saw no-one we recognised, but the afternoon of our arrival I watched fr...

Subscribe now to unlock this article.

Support BusinessLIVE’s award-winning journalism for R129 per month (digital access only).

There’s never been a more important time to support independent journalism in SA. Our subscription packages now offer an ad-free experience for readers.

Cancel anytime.

Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.

Speech Bubbles

Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.