Digital nomadding.... or trying to.... in Veneto

Oh, a free weekend! Only one thing for it, what has Skyscanner got to offer? Unbelievably, a 21-pound return flight to Venice from Birmingham. Wow, what a refreshing change! A local airport, but one that seems to be charging an arm and a leg for airport parking. Luckily for me, I'm in the know of some free airport parking for Birmingham in the form of a 1-pound bus ride away on some side streets. Unbelievably that all went to plan (although not been back to the car yet!) and on the Wednesday evening at 6:00 PM I was on my way to Venice. I've been to Venice before, and I'm sure most people will curse me for saying this, but I didn't really rate it. In my opinion there are far more beautiful Italian cities, such as Rome and Verona. There are many others that have not yet I had the chance to visit. So, I opted not to stay in Venice.

Work has really ramped up, with some great opportunities that I've taken up, mainly because they speak to my interests, but also will ensure that by taking them there is not a gap in income after leaving NTU. By accepting them now, there's also the prospect of ongoing work. But I had to have a word with myself that this doesn't mean I have to stay at home in the UK to do the work. After all the objective of the game is to achieve that flexibility and freedom that you don't get from most permanent positions.

So, let's truly give this digital nomad in a try shall we? One of the main objectives of making this viable, is keeping costs at an absolute rock bottom. Clearly the flight ticked that box and so did the lack of cost associated with airport parking. Accommodation was next. Searching booking.com an Airbnb I came across what was described as a hostel, in the Dolomites near a town called Feltre; Il Mondo Roverso. It looked like a perfect setting to clear my mind, really focus on work, getting lots done over the course of the three days that I'd be away whilst at the same time getting lots of fresh air and exercise as well. This totalled 38 pounds. What a bargain! As the accommodation was geographically isolated, I needed a car. I've been using Do You Spain consistently for the cheapest Ibizan car hire, so assumed that Do You Italy would be the same, and luckily it was. The car hire for the duration came to Something in the region of 18 euros. Arriving into Venice Marco Polo, I was landed and was through within the space of half an hour, thanking my lucky stars for no thorough border scrutiny on Shengen rules (tick tock) and had made my way to the car hire that was super quick and efficient on account of having done an online checking beforehand. The drive to the hostel was rather longer than anticipated and through the Bellano valley was a tiring drive late at night.

I arrived at the accommodation just before midnight, in the middle of nowhere, absolutely perfect for the purpose. Some rather impatient torch flashing directed me to the parking space and the host shuffled down the stairs in his slippers and pyjamas to greet me, although I wouldn't really class it as a greeting. Upon showing me to my room he explained that the room needed to be vacated at 10:00 o'clock every day and couldn't be re-entered until after 5. In addition, he introduced a donation scheme as he described it, apparently the price that had already paid on booking.com doesn't even cover their costs and therefore they expected donation from guests on top of that. The idea being to allow people to pay as little or as much as they could afford. In principle, what a lovely idea. In practise both elements coupled with the lack of Wi-Fi meant the staying there would be totally useless for the purpose I had in hand.

I had a really shitty night sleep feeling anxious and guilty about not really wanting to pay him an additional amount on top of what I'd already paid, and ultimately, I wouldn't be able to get anything done if I stayed there. Waking, or not even waking because I don't think had slept at about five, I tried to make the most of the time before I was going to be kicked out, and also came to the conclusion that I needed to stay somewhere else, even though I was gonna have to pay some more for that. A quick search on booking.com and I came across the Agroturismo Antico Borgo near the town of Marostica at a price of just over 25 pound per night. So, this was still really cheap, and I kicked myself for not having just gone for this one for the three nights so I could have been settled there. But who was to know, none of this was mentioned in the description on booking.com.

So, I headed off towards the next accommodation which was an hour and a half drive away in the direction of Padua. Further away from the Dolomites, which I'd been desperate to do some walking in, but again the name of the game was to try and combine work and exercise. I stopped off in the town of Feltre which was a picture postcard perfect historical town with a walled central core on top of a hill. I had a good old stomp around there in my “lunch break” before arriving at the Antigo Borgo at noon.

I've always wanted to stay in an Agroturismo. Coming from an academic tourism background I'm really aware of Agritourism being strongly associated with sustainable and responsible tourism, because basically you're staying on a farm, or at least should be if it's practised properly, far more invested in the local area and immersed in the local culture and eating food that is grown on the farm or locally. The place was amazing, and the welcome given by Lorenna was filled with genuine warmth. The place is owned by Lorena and her husband Giuseppe. They have a son as well who I never saw, and therefore never got to determine if he was in fact an over 35 Italian Jesus look alike (if you know you know). Seems it is a thing nowadays.

The were no other guests there, and it was so quiet and peaceful, except for the sound of sheep bleating in the distance and cows mooing in the stables close by. This is what I was looking for.

So, the key things that I've learned in this first remote working endeavour are:

To check your accommodation carefully:

· Does it have a place that you can comfortably work?

· Is the price stated what you actually will pay?

· Is there Wi-Fi?

· And are there any weird clauses that result in you getting booted out for the majority of the day?

So, I got my head down and did some work finishing late afternoon to go in search of some wild swimming, as after all I'm trying to balance work life and well-being. On the way up I passed loads of beautiful river potential swimming spots and some small lakes, where was the closest to get back to? A Google search took me to focus my attention on something called Paradise beach, on Busa de Bastianeo, which was a 45-minute drive away. I also wanted to try and visit Marostica, which was a walled town with a castle on the top. All of this would be a bit of a push though before nightfall. So, I headed for the swim first, getting frustrated when every route predicted by Google ended up are either a dead end or no entry sign. I got as close as I possibly could then I had to go the rest of the way on foot. So, I did. Not so sure about Paradise beach, more like "murky pond", feeling slightly disappointed I decided to give the swim miss for fear of catching something nasty. I couldn't get a definitive judgement on whether it was actually safe to swim there anyway. Nevertheless, it was a picturesque setting for sunset and a really tranquil setting to reflect upon the day.

One of the other ways of keeping costs low was to swing by a supermarket on the way home to grab some grub. My host Lorena had offered a breakfast for €5 per day. Judging by the exceptional reviews on booking.com I swiftly took this offer up. But, for the evening, a proper litre bottle of wine (not this 75l shizzle) came in at 2 euros 55 cents, some snacks and some dinner totalled at 12 euros. The next day it came in at 6 euros.

Heading back to base I continued working, but at my own pace, knowing that I was doing this because I wanted to, batteries recharged and re energised.

I'm so thankful to be a morning person. After the best night sleep in such a snuggly, warm bed feeling like Little Red Riding Hood without the wolf part, I was up at 6 to again crack on with some work until about 11:00 o'clock. Bearing in mind that on Fridays I'm not actually employed by anybody, it's a time when I do portfolio work, but starting early and then picking things back up later on in the day really seems to work for me. You can get a good portion of your work done and then go off and do something really lovely for the majority of the daylight hours. I've always found that I can go full pelt from very early in the morning but then lose energy and focus quite quickly around mid-morning, but do we rarely stop and think about the working pattern that suits our energy is best? As the sun started to rise, I headed out for what, was intended to be a run, but it's fairly hilly around here, so I ran downhill and then puffed and panted back uphill. The sunrise was spectacular though over the hills and farmland.

The breakfast absolutely did not disappoint. So, this is one of the key features of agritourism, the fact that you staying in somebody's home and consuming locally sourced produce. Lorena served up a variety of delights to include her own dried Sharon fruit, cheese, natural yoghurt and granola and salami all produced locally in the mountains. I think they may also qualify for the award of world’s best cup of coffee (sorry random coffee bar featured on Elf). She even sent me off with a pack up for lunch saving me more pennies, a sandwich made from the left-over cheese and a slice of her homemade Peach tart. I'm not sure if this was a conscious or subconscious thing but knowing the origins of the food that you're eating and the significance to the local area made me eat more slowly, more mindfully, it also made me consume less and be more considerate of what I was actually eating, normally I just throw things down in a very mindless and gobbly way.

So, time for some playtime now. I fancied a swim. I knew you could swim in Lake Garda because I had done it a number of times before. Lake Garda didn't look that far (on the map). It was only an hour and a half drive, totally doable. After some playing around with Google Maps, I determined that to head to Peschiera del Garda would be the closest point and therefore the quickest to get to. I have been lucky enough to visit a number of Italian lakes, and admittedly get confused between them and the towns that are on which and the ones that I have been to and those I haven’t. But I just headed there and figured that it would all work out and I’d find a beautiful little swimming spot to have a nice chilly dip.

I stepped outside to head to the car and was hit by the cold mountain air. Breathe in. Ahhhhh, this life suits me. Everything is just perfect right about now.

It was Autostrada or Superstrada most of the way which made the journey a fairly speedy hour and a half.

A note on the rules of the Superstrada and Italian driving. firstly, there are no rules. Indicating, what's that? Up one's "arse" appears to be a popular position. You could see the confused looks on the fellow drivers faces when they encountered this strange blinking light on the side of my razzy little Fiat. Normally I wouldn't object to an Italian white van driver charging up behind me flashing his......(oh…. sorry…. wrong story). But on a motorway, it makes me twitchy.

I love driving. There is never a journey too far. Alone with my thoughts. I used to hate my thoughts. But all of a sudden it occurred to me that my head is empty apart from the fleeting happy thought that makes me chuckle. I concluded that I'm far more amusing in my head than I am out loud.

Arriving in Peschiera del Garda having spent eight euros in total on the toll. Plenty of free parking there as it is out of season and there is not a sausage around so I agreed with myself that I would go for a good walk and try and find a place to have a refreshing dip.

I didn't have to go far before I came across a familiar spot at the Ploppi Lido. Seen it before, but still made me chuckle just as much. An empty pebbly beach just for me and the ducks. I didn't even need to feel self-conscious getting into my togs because there literally was no one around. To my fingers the water temperature didn't feel too bad, but I hadn't done any cold-water swimming for quite a while now and was out of practise. The air temperature really didn't feel that bad when stripped off and entering the water initially it was bearable. I don't have any of those smart devices to tell me what the water temperature is, I go on how my body feels this was “oooooh ya fighter” cold. It was "pins and needles" cold not "I'm going to lose my limbs" cold, or 'I'm being stabbed all over with a thousand knives" cold, and I managed to stay in for about 10 minutes and had a good swim, the ducks on the shoreline laughing at me as I went. Who is this crazy bitch they quacked?

I forgot how good it feels coming out of ice-cold water, I'm saying it's ice cold to make it sound more dramatic although I know it would have been under 4 degrees. The blood pumping around your body and rushing back to your skin gives you a cracking tan and gets those endorphins pumping around the body nicely. Dressed again and decided to go for a good stomp along the waterfront but this got curtailed about 5 kilometres in with some roadworks that had lifted the path and made it impassable. OK turn back where are we headed now? On the way there, I’d passed the turning for Verona, not recalling just how close it was. Verona is the most beautiful city I think I've ever visited, no, Rome is. No, Verona is. They are on a par, but I would say that Verona is more rustic in feel.

If I set off now, I could get a couple of hours before sunset exploring the city, so that is exactly what I did. Entering the city near the Porto Novo railway station I found a free car parking space easily after encountering some serious road rage because I wasn't prepared to run an old lady over on a Pelican crossing. I headed into town and the memories came flooding back. I wasn't wrong, Verona is probably the most architecturally stunning place I have ever visited, I just adore the place. So beautiful I could cry. And the soppy sod in me loves the connection with Romeo and Juliet, so I'd be amiss if I didn't go and visit Juliet's house again, only to witness hordes of sightseeing c&nts groping the brass bosoms of the Juliet figurine in the courtyard. I managed to get a good mooch around before heading back. It took an hour and a half to get back to base, with a quick stop at a supermarket to grab tonight's dinner and a near miss from being run off the road by an enthusiastic Italian driver.

Now I'm sat here writing this, interspersed with bursts of inspired working, having clocked up a good 19k walking and legs starting to throb. In the morning I'm heading home, energised by this wonderful little break, keeping those batteries at 100%, and reassured that so long as I do my homework first then this working arrangement will work just fine. I'm going to see if I can squeeze in a little trip to Cittichavecca on the way back because that was recommended by my host as a beautiful little town to visit. I might even have time to squeeze in another sunrise run.