Venice is a place that will always have my heart. We travelled across Europe in the early months of 2016 and hit the city of bridges during Carnevale, a time where the town truly comes to life.
In a group of about ten friends, our time in the city kicked off with a gondola ride split into groups of five. The gondoliers sang to us with deep, opera-esque lyrics, stopping often to call out to each other.
After a few hours of navigating the narrow streets and getting lost far more often than I’d like to admit, we were shepherded into a beautiful little restaurant. Without any questioning, we were all poured tall glasses of sweet white wine, even sweeter because it was free. Italians truly know how to accommodate.
The pizza was soft and the pasta al dente. More importantly, it was warm inside. After an hour or so had passed, we shuffled back out into the cold air in a race to find the perfect masks for a Carnevale dinner party that evening.
A gelato stop, countless stores and a few high-end fashion farewells later, we found our masks and turned to meet up in the city centre. We still took a few wrong turns and didn’t reach the meeting point for an hour or longer but it didn’t matter. Every wrong turn offered something new to admire, a sense of seeing the world through a child’s eyes.
Ciao Venezia, torneremo presto.
Goodbye Venice, we’ll be back soon.