Yiwen Peh
“It is always assumed that Venice is the ideal place for a honeymoon. This is a grave error. To live in Venice or even to visit it, it means that you fall in love with the city itself. There is nothing left over in your heart for anyone else.” — Hilarious but I guess there is some truth in that. The extent of it depends on you and only you.
As with a ton others, I’ve always wanted to go to Venice. My eyes sparkle upon its mention and when we finally arrived, I thought they might have sparkled beyond control. (Turns out, all I needed was a change of contact lenses ha.) Knowing that the city was absolutely tiny (but remarkably packed with beauty), we only spent a night here — which was good enough.
Needless to say, every street and canal held the same rustic charm as if what flowed through wasn’t water but culture. Divine culture. The streets were lined with stalls selling rather elaborate venetian masks, which we were tempted to purchase to battle the haze back home. Also, push carts with wooden barrels of fresh produce. Shops sold explosive amounts of pastries and we had gelato twice within a mere thirty minutes. Venice’s famous canals were scattered with gorgeously crafted gondolas, most sporting gold paint and red velvet chairs.
If I were an artist or had the decent ability to draw, I’d sit in Venice and sketch up the entire island. From every possible corner.
The perimeter of Piazza San Marco was outlined by rows and rows of colour-synchronised chairs of red, blue, yellow and green — a feast for my eyes when things are so neatly ordered in placement and hue.
I’m pretty sure there were ten times more pigeons than chairs in this Piazza. Pigeons without fear, only armed with hunger and greed. They flew low, barely scraping over heads and coming just too close for comfort.
Getting lost in the alleys of Venice is quite the norm when every turn looks like the last. Fortunately, it’s not the worst situation to be in when you get to chance upon hidden corners befitting far more attention.
At 9, the skies were still brimming with light despite sunset. A trio of rather amazing string musicians were playing at the square of our hostel and it felt like the perfect end to the day sitting in the cool of the weather on a wooden bench, listening to some fine classical music.
So, Venice. Till we meet again!
This post first appeared on A Quaint Sense.
