Beloved Venezia

Venice, Venezia, Benátky....so many names for only one place and that place was supposed to royaly host me as its guest this Easter holiday. We have travelled a long journey by bus that was not only painful but also exhausting, as nobody usually sleeps properly. We took off at 6pm Friday, making it to Venice at 8 am. The tronchetto parking where our bus stopped in didn´t look very friendly, the wind was hostile and I only wore a thin poncho, while others were prepared much better for the occasion. We then hopped on a small ferry boat that painfully and slowly drifted off towards the historical part of Venezia. It was fun to sit on such a noisy little thing, which seemed to be constantly fighting with its heavy load. As we kept approaching the city, my mood suddenly changed. It started to look like the postcards I´ve seen so many times. I think we then lingered for a while around the canal by the main merchant route nearby the most amazing Rialto bridge. I couldn´t stop taking photographs of the river, the people, the buzz on the boats and all those wonderful hotels surrounding us. Venice still keeps the old distant aura of the past, where you feel as if back in 18th century. You can easily imagine the life the way it used to be hundreds of years ago, the old merchants trading their goods in the streets, the gondoliers steering their long elegant boats in a very organised way, the ladies in their rich colored dresses and tiny lace umbrellas, all those kind of things. The weather wasn´t particularly good, but still not very bad, as it didn´t rain. The luck was on our side.
We then slowly moved in a group through the historical parts, around the churches and along the little lanes, through the squares and past the bridges, until we reached our summit - the most famous Venezian square, St. Marc´s. It was huge, crowded with tourists and traders, but splendid. The mega church in front of us has been built from a certain pink coloured marble that gives out a slightly pinkish glow, all this acompanied by pink glassed lanterns. The whole city decorated in white, pink and soft shell colour, gives a very innocent and sweet impression. I noticed they had a winged lion on every church and above every door frame, it must have been the Venezian symbol. After the first encounter we then strolled each individually through the rest of the city. Me and my Mum went our own separate way, not even trying to queue for long tiring hours just to see some of the muzeums, campanilas or churches. That would mean so much of a lost time. We wanted to see the streets, the life in them, the real Italian business. I can´t describe the breathtaking scenes and images we´ve seen on our way through the city, it cannot be described, it has to be seen. I was gobsmacked by every corner, every inch of the city, by every single house and building, as they were each very individual, and almost grotesque. They weren´t perfect, even far from that, but that was exactly why I fell in love with Venice. Its beauty lied in the imperfection of the facades that were crumbling in front of our eyes. It consisted in the small pots with flowers of all kinds appearing on the window sills, in the multicoloured plasters and funny looking widows, and of course, in the unique way of loundry hanging out from each window or balcony. I watched with awe and amazement those elegant, noiseless gondolas steered by handsome gondoliers dressed up in stripped blouses. They handled their boats like some kind of work of art, in a perfect unison. They knew every inch of the river, every turn and twist in it. The water in the canals didn´t stink as many people claim, it was the colour of green and blue mixed together, but clear. I kept on inhaling all this atmosphere, while we sat in a small coffee shop stuffing our faces with the most delicious homemade coconut ice cream, or when we drank our dark hot coffee.
We then went on to see the fruit and fish markets. The amount of fresh sea fish and other creatures was overwhelming. All these creepy crawlies were here only until lunch time, when the market closed down only to be attacked by hungry seagulls that walked in all that mess, trying to steal some dinner for themselves. I was drooling when passing by the stuffed shop displays with various pastries an chocolates and cream puffs. It was a gallery of gluttony in its best way. Italians are the best culinary experts as they adore their food, that´s one mystery solved!
When our time was over, the tour guide took us back on a bus and we were heading off towards Lido di Jesolo, roughly one hour from Venice. It was a holiday resort by the sea, with a long promenade lined with hotels, cute shops and night bars, not a long distance away from the beach. We stayed over for one night, then took off again in the morning, back to Venice. We had to catch a tronchetto but this time to a different corner of Venice, towards Burano and Murano islands, only 20 minutes away. Burano was the most amazing little island I´ve ever seen. It´s famous for many centuries for its lace trade. The whole island basically lives off it. There were little narrow canals everywhere, with tons of multicoloured houses, each one looking like a doll house, meticulously cared for with utmost love and devotion. I absolutely adored it. They had a tiny square with church that looked more like a tower of Pisa, leaning to one side as if wanting to tumble down at any time. That was due to the soft ground the village was built upon. You could see these tiny cute baby-like houses, restaurants and patiseries or trattorias, all being served by willing and kind Buranos, local inhabitants. I didn´t want to leave here, like ever!
But then we had to shift our backsides and travel further towards Venice, to a place less beautiful then Burano, the island that became famous for a glass industry, Murano island. We only had time enough to stop in a small coffee house for some toasted panini and Spritz aperol, then we rushed back to Venice taking another vaporeto. The weather was much better then the previous day, the sun kept shining and warming us up, while we stood on the deck of a boat. We made it back into the city and had some spare time for ourselves. Some of us went to finish off the muzeum and church tours, me and my Mum got lost in the little streets again, to enjoy the spirit of Venice. We sneaked into a queue of Italians waiting for their serving of fritto misto (fried calamari, prawns, sardines and other sea food) with glass of Chardonnay. We ate our platters sitting on the stairs of an old church, looking out at floating gondolas. Then we continued our journey to Rialto and back, trying to locate our favourite ice creamery, but couldn´t find it at all. The more we thought we were approaching it, the more we were getting entagled in all those cob webbed streets. It worked as a perfect labyrinth. At least I felt like Alice in a Wonderland, constantly thinking I´m somewhere where I´ve been before but sort of getting more lost the more I tried to figure out my way out. Needless to say, we eventually found our little ice creamery, where we had another portion of heavenly coco ice cream. We bought some little souvenirs to take home, made some more photos and off we went, out to St. Marc´s to meet the rest of the band. Back to our base, onto our bus, but this time overflowing with strange, haunting feelings that Venezia engraved into our souls and minds. I am not sure if I ever return to this sacred place, but I am sure that I will always remember its beauty and charm. It enriched me in so many ways and it gave me wings to fly on, at least in my imagination. This place has so much to offer, it has mysterious ways of inspiring one. I hope everyone who will ever venture here will agree, and will bring similar experience back into their life. I would call this city a floating swan on a sea. It´s almost as pure and dreamy, and as hauntingly beautiful.