Arrivadecci, my fair city.

This post is probably going to sound absurdly sentimental to those of you who are sensitive to 'cheesy' things. If that sounds like you, feel free to skip this entry, you've been forewarned!

I'm sitting today under cloudy skies and sporadic drizzle in Berlin. I'm in an overall good mood, but this weather is suitably fitting for my own sporadic bouts of melancholia that I get when I think back on this past weekend. I suppose it's a little like falling in love with someone you can't have. You cherish the memories you had together, but it is always a little sad to look back on. I guess before I continue down that line of thought, I will tell you about Venice.

Venecia is unlike any place I have ever been before, and some would argue that it is unique to anywhere else in the world. Jessica, Adriano (Adj) and I flew into the Marco Polo airport on the mainland sometime around midafternoon on Friday. When you land in Venice, at least on the airline that we took, they send buses out to pick you up from the tarmac and bring you to the terminal. Getting through the airport didn't take long at all because none of us checked any baggage. After a slight hiccup with transportation, we boarded a water bus that would take us to the island of Lido, a narrow island that our hotel for the first night was on. The cruise to Lido took us along the Grand Canal and to some of the other islands, the views were absolutely stunning. Lido is about a ten minute water bus ride from the main island of Venecia and it has a beautiful beach and several shops and restaurants. If you're going to Venecia and you can't find anything on the main island, I highly recommend Lido.

After Adriano checked into the hotel and brought our stuff up to the room we decided, in spite of the possible storm approaching to go over to the main island and look around. We alighted at the stop for Piazza San Marco and walked around to take in the sights. The Piazza is incredibly beautiful. Some of you might recognize from the opening scenes of the movie The Italian Job.

We made our way into the city and wandered the streets. The streets in Venecia are more like passageways. There are no automobiles in the city, so some are no more than three feet wide. It is very easy to lose yourself among those twisting narrow paths and piazzas. There is literally a surprise around every corner.

The beauty of this city is in its graceful aging. There is no attempt, no desperate scramble to cover up the fact that these buildings are old, that this city is practically ancient. There is instead an air of patient upkeep, of maintenance, but never drastic change. The canals make their way through the city in the same stately progress, and the citizens adapt to the way the water flows. No attempts to divert or change, except in extreme circumstances.

After we wandered the streets in aimless directions, Adriano, Jessica and I decided to make our way back so we could travel back to Lido for dinner, in hopes of avoiding the approaching storm. By the time we made it back to P. San Marco, however, the storm seemed to have passed us by, and there was even a hint of blue sky amid all the cloud cover. We stood in San Marco for a few minutes, admiring the architectural beauty, and taking it all in.

That night we had dinner on Lido, and a bottle of wine that we brought back to the hotel. We were all really tired and called it an early night, looking forward to Saturday and what it might bring.

We left our hotel the next morning bright and early, and due to a rather amusing misfortune, had to take all of our stuff with us and our room for the next night was canceled (aka: we were kicked out of the hotel. Apparently they were not pleased with us sleeping three in one room.) So, our first order of business was to find a room for the night. I had brought my book of hostels with me (ha! Jessica and Adriano made fun of me for that! Be prepared my friends, be prepared!) so we landed by San Marco again and began our trek with our stuff across the entire island to search for the hostels that were in my book.

This extrememly long walk turned out to actually be quite amazing, as it took us right through the heart of Venice. We got to see the Rialto Bridge and almost shops from almost every designer imaginable. We walked over small canals and watch gondolas float by, squeezed through the narrow streets and looked over the wares at all of the different food shops and little standes along the way. After our search for the hostel lead us to the end of a pier on the Grand Canal, I gave up looking and just called them from my mobile, and ended up book us a three bed (whoo! our own beds!) private room with bathroom, for 35€ a person a night! That, is an incredible deal. So, we dropped our stuff off, changed into our swimsuits and decided to head back to Lido and go to the beach.

Lido Beach was so beautiful we found a nice spot on the sand and spread out our towels, and then Jessica and I ran down to jump into the green-blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. It's technically, I guess, the Adriatic, but that's all a part of the Mediterranean. The water was incredibly salty, and Adriano and I guessed that the salt must be what gives the water around Venice it's peculiar green-aqua color. We must have laid out at the beach for about three hours, alternating between tanning ourselves brown and jumping into the waves to cool off. Jessica and I had to allude the Italian men who were insisting on being overly friendly. Ah.... the hardships of attractive American girls. (I'm kidding! You know me better than that!)

Once we started to burn we went back to Venecia and all took showers and changed into new clothes for dinner. We went to a nice restaurant on the Grand Canal and had authentic Italian pizza for dinner. Our waiter was a little old man who took pleasure in making as much fun of me as was possible, much to the enjoyment of Adriano and Jessica. When I in typically American fashion asked for ice with my drink, he brought me out an entire bucket complete with serving spoon. We, also in American fashion, left him a large tip.

The three of us decided to make our way back through the maze of the island to P. San Marco so that we could see it at night. Stopping once for gelato and once to get lost, we made it to the piazza just as all of the light left the sky. P. San Marco is light up along all sides at night by hundreds of light bulbs, and there are four different bands set up at the different outdoor seating areas for the restaurants. Adriano sat down on the steps to take in the evening and Jessica and I kicked off our shoes to go and dance to the music coming from one set of munitions. In my mind I knew that there was no better place to be in the world, than in that spot at that exact moment.

The thing that happened next is my favorite memory of the entire weekend. The musicians near us struck up a tango, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a young couple move into each other's arms, and begin the most romantic dance I have ever seen. It was very clearly a practiced routine, as they moved through every motion, every position change with eyes closed and cheek pressed to cheek. It was incredibly complex, but they moved with absolute confidence, never pausing or stopping until the music ended. The greeted the applause of the gather crowed with embarrassed smiles, attempting to direct the applause back toward the musicians. Grabbing their bags they had left forgotten on the ground and clasping hands, they disappeared back into the crowd, leaving me feeling lucky to have witnessed such a private and beautiful moment.

I never meant to fall in love with Venecia; I specifically did not allow myself to be immediately swept away. I waited to be convinced. Venecia it seems was up to the task. Somewhere in the twisting narrow paths, somewhere in the winding watery passages, in the architecture, the street vendors, the food, somewhere in the water, this beautiful city claimed me for its own.

As we boarded the bus to Marco Polo I was overtake by a desire to get off, get off and return to those streets, those canals. Say good bye to my friends and thank them for visiting, and to please come again....
This is why when we left I didn't allow myself to look back.

I wonder how long it would take to learn Italian.

Love to all at home,
*Miranda

PS. I didn't have time to upload all the pictures I wanted to..... more later, promise.