A Love Letter to Venice

I answered the call of wanderlust my sophomore year of college. A summer in Italy, exploring history by foot through the lens of art and cuisine. Respectfully, that initiation into travel is for another story.

This is my love letter to Venice, the city of canals and queen of the Adriatic.

Looking out over the waves as we water taxied into the port, I understood the sense of “ La Serenissima,” – how the ghost-fleets of this city’s seafaring past made it the epicenter of diplomacy, justice and prosperity.

Gothic spires pushed upwards into the naked sky, providing a perch for those figures which guard the city into perpetuity. The winged lion, glorified in the Piazza San Marco opposite la Giustizia, lady justice herself – the embodiment of Venice. Archangels tucked into zodiac and weathervane, anchor the compass of the city, silently guiding tourists through the labyrinth of bridges and canals.

Stepping on-shore, you are struck by the briny waft downwind of the fishmonger and then, the heavy foot traffic, shuffling along the cobblestone, fearless to wander with no vehicle in sight.

The city is meant for lovers, to dreamily stroll and pause in shadowed alleys to steal a kiss, with a passionate hand pressed up against the peeling stucco and stone.

Seeds carried high up into window seals make home to lush, trickling foliage which longs to touch the ground, winding back down to earth. One’s walk is perfumed by flower boxes and planters that take the place of soil to root trees or grasses.

I recall the rattling of boats along the dock, echoing in the distance as we passed under domed archways which shaded the cafes and shops. Clattering tableware mingled with merchant’s solicitations as the uninterrupted commerce of Murano glass and fine metals were faced out for the grazing eye.

Medieval trappings aside, my most revered moments were set with checkered tablecloth and bottles of wine, during long, lazy afternoons with my love, Andrew. Gondoliers serenaded exhausted tourists, as we smiled, content to sit back and twirl our fork into one last bite of pasta or sip upon the endless assortment of aperitivo.

Arrivederci, Venice