Venezia

It is very easy to get lost in Venice. Not only is the city filled with tiny, person-width streets that follow no particular grid or pattern, but every street is also lined with the same permutation of shops: Venetian mask shop, restaurant, pastry shop, gift shop, glass shop, more Venetian masks. “Didn’t we just pass the shop with the purple half-moon mask in the front window?” “Yes, but I’m sure that one was next to the pastry shop with the giant meringues, so this must be a different one.” “… So how long before we give up and buy a map?” So the conversation went, several times over. When we first arrived to the island by train, we followed our guide on a not-so-direct path to San Marco square, via the Rialto bridge (a bridge with three rows of shops- rather strange, but I guess you make use of whatever space you can here). For a while I foolishly attempted to remember how to get back the way we’d come, so that I could find all the shops I’d wanted to stop at- completely hopeless after about a half-hour of walking, doubling back, looping, and following official and not-so-official signs. Actual signs pointing us towards San Marco Square were often ambiguous and frustratingly few, but the locals seem to have realized this long ago: where real signs failed, there was scrawled graffiti with arrows directing us from walls, doorways, and sometimes the ground.
When we finally reached the square, most of it had already sunk. That is to say, the tide had beat us there, and what would’ve been a large, beautiful square was a large puddle, with a long line of people crammed onto a catwalk stretching past the cathedral, around the square, and back to another narrow street. There were also catwalks through the cathedral, but the line for them was lengthy and stagnant, so we opted for a quick pass through back to the regular roads. Venice seems to love elaborate clocks: we had passed by several impressive ones on our winding walk, and now we passed underneath a beautiful clock tower, with a clock face of blue and gold, and greened copper bells surrounded by statued hammerers (I may have made both of those words up).  We wound down more streets until we stopped for lunch, settling for a simple sandwich shop with cheap (but delicious) calzones. I had a cappuccino afterwards, which was the best coffee I’ve had thus far, and came with a little square chocolate on the saucer (for the same price as a normal cappuccino! I love Venice!). After that, Kayla, Kelcey and I did what most guides suggested as the top thing to do while in Venice: we got lost. We originally headed back the way we came, stopping at what seemed like every other shop to ogle Venetian masks or shelves of confections, but after confusing one or two turns, we simply gave up keeping track of where we were and wandered aimlessly, following the general crowd of tourists unless something particular caught our eye. This is how we spent several hours of the afternoon, in and out of shops, down long alleyways that ended in canals, in and out of silent churches, through markets and over bridges. We eventually ended up at a bookshop, out of the way of the beaten path of tourists, in a small courtyard off a smaller street. All the books in the entire shop were either on high tables, or in old gondolas that we guessed still floated: a hand-written sign saying “Fire exit” pointed out the back door, which was one step up from the water. The whole shop must flood every high tide, but the bookseller had managed to keep all of his goods up out of harm’s way. He had quite the collection, mounds and mounds of books stacked and piled, up to the ceiling in some places. There were lots of books in English, some in German, some in French, but most in Italian; there were antique Italian comic books, including Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse; shelves of language dictionaries, food encyclopedias, and picture dictionaries of horse and dog breeds; piles of old books full of plays and operas. Among the disarray I found a tourist’s map of Venice, and some fabulously unique postcards, which I bought (these were not my only purchases of the day- I did manage to find a signature Venetian mask for myself). Using the map we managed to find our way back to the train station in time to catch a train home not far behind the rest of our group, although I think I could’ve stayed until it got dark, still blissfully lost and wandering through those convoluted streets.