Lost in Venezia

Stepping off the train at dusk, it was already 20:00.

Venice—I had been here twice before, both times imagining myself wrapped in romance. I remember watching couples glide through the canals on gondolas, hands intertwined down hidden alleys, secrets kept. So many places to kiss, to be swept away by the magic of the city. And yet, here I stood, alone. Sola, seul.

My first trip by myself and I had chosen a city known for love.

It is late October. The air chilled. Water shimmered under the streetlights, boats rocked gently on the waves, and laughter echoed through the streets. The city, alive, and enchanting in the night.

Up in my room, I gazed out the window, taking in the view. My heart fluttered—like the rush of a first kiss. The energy of the place was electric, infectious.

“Let your feelings flow”

Now, I stood alone, steady.

At dawn, I set off early, trailing a young girl down the cobblestone streets. She looked to be about ten, her backpack emblazoned with the words: Let your feelings flow. She marched toward school with quiet determination.

The morning light drenched the city in gold as we wandered past hidden corners and hushed squares.

I thought back to when I was fifteen, here for the first time. I had watched a boat glide down the canal, two high school boys on board, blaring Candy Shop by 50 Cent. They were so cool—unstoppably cool. They’re living the life here, I had thought. Venice had a way of making everything seem larger than life, magnifying the thrill of youth.

Now, at twenty-two, I walked these streets with a different kind of wonder. Then, the hush of the morning cracked. A bass-heavy beat rippled through the canal, growing louder, pulsing against the walls.

Two teenage boys emerged from around a bend, their boat drifting into view like a scene from a dream. No way. The rhythm carried through the air, undeniable:

"Uno, due, tre, quattro, chiama il contatto, brr, cinque, sei, sette, otto, è già qua sotto."

They pulled their dinghy up to the side, their movements unhurried, effortless—like they owned the water, like they owned the moment. With a flick of the wrist, they tied the boat off, I stood frozen, transfixed.

Venice has a way of drawing attention, making everyone feel like they are part of the story.

Recommendations:

Wake at sunrise to meet the locals. Enjoy a caffè e cornetto.

Lunch at Casin Dei Nobili.

Visit Theater La Fenice.

Shop the original Venetian slippers at Piedàterre Venezia, handcrafted in Italy since 1952.

Watch the sunset from Zattere Al Ponte Longo, then wander back through the city at dusk. Find young people gathered at Campo dei Tolentini waiting lines for aperitivo.