A Brief Aside to Venice

Venezia: the one place I have always wanted to see the most. As my friend Maddie is currently staying there and taking courses in Italian and Art History, a weekend visit seemed too perfect an opportunity to pass up.

After a quick and easy Air France flight (yes, I am promoting the airline—they serve croissants instead of bags of pretzels), I arrived Friday afternoon to a swamp of tourists and delicious humidity—I must be one of 10 people on the planet who delights in muggy warmth. Following a gaggle of German 13-year-olds to the Rialto Bridge, I met up successfully with Maddie (the combination of bright red hair and that fast walk is hard to miss). We went back to her apartment to wait out the rain and chat, then headed off on a tour of the historical Jewish ghetto led by a VERY sassy guide. After dinner, we loitered like true Italian university students at Campo Santa Margarita, speaking Italian (and in my case, very bad French) over a bottle of wine.

Saturday morning, we headed to the market where Maddie successfully battled old Venetian women for our zucchinis in Italian. The afternoon was spent laying on the beach at Lido, working on my non-existent tan, after which we sautéed up a fabulous dinner from our morning market finds.

I was incredibly (and unknowingly) lucky in my choice of weekends. Not only was it the Venice Biennale (an international culture and arts fair), but Saturday evening was also the 2011 Art Night Venezia. One night, every year, all the galleries and museums in Venice are completely free and open to the public. Everyone was out, stopping to listen to free concerts, ducking in and out of art shows, having an evening drink with friends and family. After wandering the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, I experienced the Venetian Spritz, a traditional drink that combines white wine, Aperol, and sparkling mineral water—just right for dusk, evening, or really whenever.

Sunday we crossed the lagoon to Murano and Burano. Known for its brightly painted houses, Burano was our first stop. It was perfect—kitchy with just a smattering of tourism, Burano is where you want to spend a lazy summer vacation, or where your grandmother should live. I must admit I went a little camera crazy—the combination of the rainbow of houses and clear sky was just too much. We wandered around Murano, admiring the glass sculptures and trying to avoid the buttery smell of frying seafood and margarita pizza (which turned out to be impossible).

The afternoon I spent in a long walk on the main island, exploring its narrow streets and attempting to get completely lost. Drifting in and out of shops and Biennale art pavilions, I eventually arrived at St. Marks as the sun was beginning to set over the canal.

While Venice must hold some record for tourist crammed into tight streets, it is a beautiful, almost magical city. As you happen upon hidden alleyways and turn the corner to find a sun-lit canal filled with fishing boats, it’s easy to pretend you are a 16^th century denizen, fleeing a masked assassin or in search of a missing painting. Or maybe I just read too much historical fiction as a child.