Venice: The sinking city on the rise

OK, I’m no mathematician. But I’m sure there’s some mathematical equation that shows the proportionality between tourist population and hotel prices. Knowing that, I wanted to show my baby that I cared enough about her to splurge on a nice place in Venice – one of the most romantic cities in the world. I wanted a hotel actually located on the sandbar that is downtown Venice. One within walking distance of the main square, Piazza San Marco. One with charm.
So, I went to hostelworld.com, found a cheap place about an hours’ walk from San Marco, didn’t even bother to look at the pictures, and booked it. I guess it’s true what they say about actions speaking louder than words. It’s just too bad that our actions were to walk for a freaking hour from our dumpity-dump-dump room through the massive hordes of tourists to get to the center of the once proud Republic that is now riddled with litter and graffiti.

Actually, grumbling aside, Venice was beautiful. And the one-hour walk was actually pretty darn romantic. You see, much like the Italian way of life, nothing in Venice is orderly. There are no straight roads, no accurate or consistent signage, no way of telling how much a sandwich actually costs. But that’s OK. It adds to the charm and the “Italian-ness” of it all.
So we made the zig-zagging, hour walk twice – once the night of our arrival and once the next morning. Both times, parts of the walk were congested with shops, tourists, and barkers while other parts were desolate and we quietly ambled across the numerous bewitching bridges watching the graceful gondolas as they glided past us.
Here's Kate shopping.

Here’s the famous Rialto Bridge.
The goal of our walk was Piazza San Marco (St. Marks’ Square in English), home to St. Mark’s Basilica, the Doge’s Palace, St. Mark’s Clock tower, and, of course, FLOCKS AND FLOCKS OF PIGEONS. (Here's a man offering Kate birdseed).


Far more interesting to Kate and I than silly basilicas, places, and clock towers were these winged beasties. Although it took a little convincing, Kate actually temporarily overcame her aversion to these critters and let one land on her hand. You can almost see the revulsion.
She had to shake the post-bird jitters out for about five minutes following this photo, her phobic mind trying to shake off any residual vestige of grossness these birds left behind.

After Venice we trained two hours east to Verona, historic home to Shakespeare’s Star-Crossed Lovers as well as a coliseum that is just as old and almost as big as the one in Rome.
We arrived in the afternoon, and upon entering the main square were so smitten with the surrounds that I took several shots of Kate in a 360, showing the beauty (the sights, not Kate) in every direction. Here they are in all their glory.
Afterward, we got a close up of the sites. Here’s Juliet’s balcony (where, apparently, the Capulets really lived).
And here's a shot Kate couldn’t resist taking from an old bridge leading to the castle.
On our way back down, we enjoyed a nice view and an after-dinner gelato while walking across an incredibly romantic old stone bridge. Beautiful.
To tell you the truth, we liked Verona better than Venice. It was less touristy, had more to see, and had more of a natural charm to it. The allure of Venice, I think, is that the only motorized vehicles are boats. Once you get over that, it loses its pizzazz.

Then, following these two cities, we headed to Vicenza – located smack dab in the center of Verona and Venice – where I worked for two days. Nothing special in this third “V” city other than the location. But we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless. And on Tuesday afternoon, we bid arrivederci to Italy. "Ciao, Italia" – our most visited country since we’ve been in Europe. We like you a lot and I’m sure we’ll be back.