Venice, Italy, I knew I loved you.
You’re a city I have yet to experience elsewhere, and I find you, probably over any other place I have visited in the world, magical. You don’t have a car anywhere in sight, and your gondolas, although filled with Snapchatting tourists, are still a sight to see. I’m often lost, but I think that’s the point; I hope to never find my way because the twists and turns of the alleyways are what make your city feel so foreign. Each building, a different color, makes the city feel happier, especially when you eye a grandma popping out of her window to look down at her alley. I wonder how many years she’s called this place home. Clearly Venice has changed, but how much, according to her? I want to find out where she goes for a saucey Italian pizza or pungent espresso. Is she as feisty as the Italian cliché would say?
I’ve only visited twice, but you’ve already got me wanting to book my trip back for a third time.
See you next time, a dopo.