The History of Sex: Venice and Florence -- Gays, Slave Nuns and 'The Bridge of Tits' -- (Chap. IV, Pt. 15)

Later Englishmen also protested that the 'whole (of Venice) may well be termed the brothel house of Europe.'

And with publicity like that, Venice soon became a must-see on the Grand Tour, that Continental odyssey intended to turn young aristos into men of culture.

In what seems unimaginable now, philosophers like Adam Smith, John Locke and Thomas Hobbes served as tutors on the Grand Tour to try to impart some knowledge to Britain's heirs, while keeping their whoring to a minimum: a bad case of 'the Venetian disease'—syphilis—could kill off a dynasty.

Two-thirds of Venetian dandies were unmarried, and the city fathers supposedly tried to woo young men back to heterosexuality by allowing prostitutes to bare their breasts on Il Ponte delle Tete—The Bridge of Tits.

Meanwhile, the daughters of aristocratic families were banged up in convents where they were more promiscuous than pious: the well-to-do had their own 'slave nuns' to do their praying and penance for them.

So I suppose it's understandable that most modern Carnival balls focus on the city's decline rather than its ascendancy.

But I can't help but think that the real reason has to do with their target market.

The powdered wigs and taffeta gowns of the Age of Decadence tend to appeal to women far more than the prim caps and high collars of the 1500s.

If we men were the decisionmakers, I reckon most of us would have plumped for the Age of the Codpiece.

When I've mentioned to locals that we're going to a ball, the reaction has been a mix of curiosity, disdain and pity, a gaze that I think can be summed up in one word: Sucker.

On the flight over, Lena got talking to a Venetian girl on the plane who was wrestling a papier-mâché claw from the overhead luggage compartment.

'There are two carnivals,' she said. 'The street parties are the real Carnival where you'll meet real Venetians. If you go to the organized Carnival parties, all you'll meet is a bunch of Americans.'

Considering that I'd already committed myself to forking out hundreds of pounds for the privilege, this wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear.

And who was this girl anyway? She was going to walk around as a giant lobster.