six in the morning
Had not Casanova bent his powers of reason to the task of distinguishing between real experiences and dream experiences , he might well have imagined that in Marcolina 's arms he had fallen into a mad dream from which he did not awaken until he caught sight of the Campanile of Venice . It was on the third morning of his journey that Casanova , having reached Mestre , sighted once more the bell tower after over twenty years of longing -- a pillar of grey stone looming distantly in the twilight . It was but two leagues now to the beloved city in which he had been young . He paid the driver without remembering whether this was the fifth or the sixth with whom he had had to settle since quitting Mantua , and , followed by a lad carrying his baggage , walked through the mean streets to the harbor from which to-day , just as five-and-twenty years earlier , the boat was to leave for Venice at six in the morning . The vessel seemed to have been waiting for him ; hardly had he seated himself upon a narrow bench , among petty traders , manual workers , and women bringing their wares to market , when she cast off . It was a cloudy morning ; mist was rolling across the lagoons ; there was a smell of bilge-water , damp wood , fish , and fruit . The Campanile grew ever higher ; additional towers appeared ; cupolas became visible .