The Chaos Of Venice

Some places are etched into your memory for its sheer beauty, its people, the way it made you feel like you were capable of anything; all of the above, if you’re lucky.

Some places are etched into your memory for its sheer beauty, its people, the way it made you feel like you were capable of anything; all of the above, if you’re lucky.

But Venice, I remember for its chaos, which is not to say that that is not beauty. Ask anyone who has been there and they would know what I mean – the chaos of tourists making their way into the square and lining up outside the church and the galleries, the aggressive waiters ushering you into their cafes, the high end shops in every nook and cranny. Centuries before, in D.H. Lawrence’s novel Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Venice was described as the “holiday-place of all holiday-places”. And it seems the description is apt now more than ever.

There is nothing that connects me to Venice. It was not a dream to see its canals, I had no longing to walk its cobblestone streets and bridges, yet when I got there, I knew I would never forget it. I regret squeezing everything into a half day itinerary but maybe next time I would not make the same mistake.

Venice is a beautiful place, and for that alone I’m sure people would love it. As for me, I will remember Venice for how it made me feel part of a bigger world, where a spectrum of cultures and colors and beliefs can merge together in a beautiful chaos.

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