Venetian Wanderer

The mask stores are copper, the sky is lead. The narrow cobblestone streets, which allow one walker to fit between walls, complete the circle of a steampunk atmosphere. This April day Venice could not bear more spring in it. The city of masks, bridges, canals. The city as a labyrinth. Hard to stalk by foot with the map, impossible without one, expensive by gondola. The ever-dwindling raindrops add to the medieval scenery, as they raise the smell of seawater and blooming lilies hanging on suspended gardens on the edges of canals. The narrowness of Venice bestows a unique feeling - not that of an experimental mouse, but rather the idyllic feeling of a love game played in a Renaissance royal garden hedge maze. I sometimes reach dead ends, but the map is a traveler's most faithful attendant.

The homemade cheese stores evoke the Dark Ages trade, the kiosks with masks suggest the setting of a secret society. In Santa Margarita square, my afternoon "cocktail" is a worthy trophy of Venice's miniature empire: maracuja ice cream. I watch by-passers from the patio and try to guess their thoughts by their walk and clothing. Two wenches nearby doing the same. Too much make-up. Waiting the mating. "Perfect day" by Lou Reed comes to mind. No worries, and the elements around conspire to the happiness of the traveler. For the experience to be complete, why shouldn't one get spoiled with a gondola siesta? Trading asphalt for water and metal for wood and life makes more sense than ever. Gondola boy rows fast, thinking about new customers to catch.

At night, the steampunk novel feeling is complete. Empty streets paved with humid air, smell of mild spring and warm small rain, cats sneaking out through cast iron window grates meowing at the brass-like moon.

The sunrise is copper, the streets are lead. Silence all around me and two strangers who quell it laughing over streets and bridges, sharing a bottle of sangria, in the vibe of a love game played in Venice's royal garden maze.