Of course, it didn’t help that I saw a rat on the first evening. We were drinking wine out side a local bar and I saw the thing trying to get into any doorway that let him in. It was only one, and nothing like India, but iiiiik.
You probably know more about Venice than I do. I only knew that I had to visit it. It was sinking. It wasn’t going to last much longer. It’s a special place.
Well. It felt like a mix between a ghost town and some sort of North American theme park (not that I’ve been to one, but I’ve seen the TV, and according to my lately deceased grandmother, if you’ve seen it on the TV, its better and cheaper than going really truly yourself).
There are no Italians living there. Its just people who love Venice. From all over the world.
It rained non stop for two days. Waiters wore rain boots without a blink of an eye. The water level was, in places, up to our knees. The place is really sinking before your eyes.
You can see, from the vantage point of a water taxi, whole floors submerged. I didn’t find it romantic, pretty or charming.
I found it a dead, ornate and over sold tourist trap. But you know what? It didn’t smell anything like I’d heard it would.
One good thing about the rain. We rushed from bar to bar, eating and drinking at each stop. Delicious eggplant cooked by a nice Spanish woman (no Italian’s living there remember), and liqueurs served with a very generous waiter.
We took some pretty pictures. I’m glad I went. Of course it’s a place that has its unique, famous history. But the hordes of camera snappy tourists (and yes, we were part of them, no denying it) was my last impression. A place that is way past its used by date.
