Venice baby!

Venezia

All roads lead to Venice, at least, all of ours do. It’s the fifth day of our seven-day tour of Lombardy and Veneto, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that nothing is more valuable than a full night’s rest and a cup of espresso. Without these two things, everything else ceases to exist, the concept of time becomes a light suggestion and the ruins of ancient Rome a mere figment of the imagination. Had it not been for Jeffrey’s ritual morning coffee breaks, I would be back in Bologna passed out by the side of the Basilica di San Petronio with a head set around my ears and a pigeon on my head. Rest, sleep, and lots and lots of caffeine are the key ingredients to a perfect Cornell in Rome excursion of which Venice is the cherry on top.

We arrived in Venice by train because buses are neither allowed nor capable of entering the historic center. Historic Venice sits on a somewhat man-made island. It has no roads, instead, the urban fabric is torn in half by an S-Shaped grand canal that extends pencil thin mini canals into the surrounding land masses. The logic of the city, which is complicated to say the least, follows this network of canals, palazzos, and alleyways. And every so often, a little piazza punches a whole in this concentrated web of chaos. For this reason, it’s very easy to get lost in Venice, but it’s also very fun. Never have I roamed a city and been so completely devoid of an internal compass. I felt like I was traveling through the Bermuda triangle with no sense of north or south, constantly facing the looming possibility of being lost forever. It’s simultaneously exciting and cripplingly terrifying. Walking around with these two emotions battling it out in my gut made the occasional campo or canal all the more enlightening. Each one hit me like a breadth of fresh air and, I must confess, I took a picture of all of them.

People say there’s nothing quite like Venice, and I wholeheartedly agree. Nowhere in the world can compare. Being there is like stepping into another world in another dimension during another time.

The gothic period is marked by low aesthetics and a glacial progression of just about everything. Venetian gothic architecture, of which the Ducal Palace is the most prominent example, seems to be the only exception in my opinion. I’ll explain by attempting to put into words the beauty of the Ducal Palace. It abuts the famous Basilica of San Marco and serves as the major façade in the adjacent piazza. For one, it’s the most beautiful shade of pink, a color that never fails to soften the eyes. There’s too many marble trefoils to count and the iconic pointed window frames combined with intricate white trimming makes the building look like a three tier wedding cake.

My favorite thing about Venice is the water. Even after taking in an entire city’s waste, it is unapologetically and rebelliously blue, the best color to compliment the venetian

palette.

Sadly, I didn’t have time to ride a gondola down one of the many canals, but, rest assured, I will be back. Venice certainly hasn’t seen the last of me.

Ciao,

Jacob