Falling for Venice

Today is the day I fell for Venice. I found myself in the Cannarregio, in quiet, residential neighborhoods. Boats were parked at the curb the way cars would have been. Most were small wooden boats; maybe one in ten was fiberglass. There was nearly no traffic, so the water’s reflection was calm and reflective. I kept stopping and saying to myself, this is so beautiful, and then I’d turn a corner and be struck dumb with an even more generous dose of beauty and proportion and grace. And then it would happen again. And again.

I have concluded: Venice is the most beautiful city in the world. I am told there are parts of Kashmir, in India, that rival it in beauty, but I can’t speak to that. For now, Venice has my heart. It is odd to come to this opinion about a place that is perhaps the most deeply urbanized spot on the planet. There is not a blade of grass and hardly a tree to be found on the island, and the avifauna is limited to rock doves and house sparrows. And it is one of the more crowded places I have ever been in. I am nearly to my limit in tolerance of the jostling crowds, and this is the slowest season. But, there it is. I still am in love.

I spent much of the day in the shopping districts on a quest for thermal underwear. It is getting colder and, although my acclimatization is nearly keeping pace, I could use another layer. The search took much of the day—commonplace necessities are among the least available items here. But it made me pay attention to the shop displays.

Being a tourist city (and with four centuries of experience in that role), there is no shortage of art or glass or shoes or suits to choose among. Except for the waterfront outside of Piazza San Marco, there is not a lot of tourist trash. It is mostly tasteful and frighteningly expensive. The window displays are compelling and often artful, and worth a serious perusal. My favorites have been the various antique-ish displays of chandeliers and lesser master paintings, and some of the more extravagant carnivale masks. If I am lusting after any object, it is for one of those baroque, whimsical Venetian glass chandeliers in green and pink for over the dining room table. But I don’t think it would fit in the carry-on.

Comments

Doug,
If you really want one,(and can afford it) and it's small enough, ship it home!
R.