It is with a bit of a sheepish and heavy heart that I offer sincere apologies to all of those whom I have possibly influenced not to visit Venice. (Younger Son, I’m especially looking at you.)
Last summer, after four visits to Italy which deliberately did not include Venice (my first trip there left me quite unimpressed, which now I’m thinking was the fault of our awful hotel and Venice got unfairly blamed…), we gave it another try.
One way to easily fall in love with a new place, for me, is an early morning photo walk. In fact, this is one of my favorite things to do during any trip, or even at home. It’s easier to grow fond of a place when you can wander the streets, nearly alone, the air still cool, morning light golden, watching the city wake up slowly.
This iconic view of Venice stopped me in my tracks. Even though there are countless shots such as this crowding the internet, I wanted a photo of my very own. It recalls the peace of the morning, Husband and I together, our delicious breakfast (a big plate, American-style, including eggs and a huge coffee!) with this view as our backdrop.
Next we found this gondola “parking lot”, just off Piazza San Marco. It felt dreamlike having this vignette all to ourselves, watching the workers prepare for the coming day, sure to bring heat and crowds of summer visitors.
Now I feel the tug of Venice’s pull. This feeling, both strong and familiar in other parts of Italy, is unexpected here.
We spend the day wandering the alleys and lanes, called calle, in search of some space away from the hoards of tourists which overwhelm the city daily.
Late afternoon, each canal offers its own form of picturesque. My traveling team remains very patient, as I stop seemingly every hundred steps for yet another photo.
Now it’s evening, the light and air circle back to cool and golden.
Venice is aglow.
I am smitten.