The last stop on the journey brought us to Venice. Throughout my travels in Europe, I’ve been to quite a few canal-filled cities that call themselves the “Venice of the North,” or east, or west, or wherever they are located. Just to make a clarification, none of these cities holds a candle to Venice. Cars and Vespas are replaced by boats and gondolas. I’ve never walked across so many bridges in my life, or hit so many dead-ends. An explorer’s and photographer’s dream, Venice is filled with back alleys, eerie canals, colorful buildings, and bridge after bridge after bridge. I could fill an entire day doing nothing but getting lost, both on purpose and on accident. All it takes is one turn in the opposite direction of the crowd and you find yourself on an empty street, with a decision to make: left down a little alley with a low ceiling and no end in sight, or right towards the direction of the water (or so you think).
Besides doing our fair share of wandering, we camped out in St. Marks square to listen to the dueling orchestras at the high end cafes, made the trip out to Murano island to see the famous glass factories, visited the famous Rialto fish market, and took a few rides up and down the Grand Canal to see the palaces and churches from Venice’s main “street.” Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long for me to know my way around the island and, by the time I left, I think I knew the streets like the back of my hand.
I think…