Why Venice?

Why Venice?

I get this a lot;

‘WHY VENICE?!’

Fair question. I believe there are a few other reasonably attractive cities in the world, many of which don’t have quite so many bridges, mosquitos, hideous glass figurines of gondolas, or tourists. And which aren’t about to sink 👍🏻.

I didn’t have a reason, as such, to come here. 

I have no family connection here, I had no friends here before I arrived, no work contacts, and I hadn’t just unearthed a Venetian husband I didn’t know about in my wardrobe when I was delving in the back looking for a(nother) grey jumper I don’t need.

So, why Venice? 

If you’re in the ‘I Love Venice’ camp, there’s is no such question as ‘Why Venice?’

It’s love, baby.

Big-ass, heart-pounding, drooly AMORE! And that’s it.💗🕺

If, on the other hand, you’ve had a nightmare experience, been ripped off by tourist scams, (What?! Tourist scams?! Never!), have sweated like an oiled-up gondolier wearing a wetsuit in a sauna, while standing in a 3-hour queue for a disappointing museum that cost more than your flights and then been shat on by pigeons in San Marco, you’ll probably never want to go back, and, pretty understandably, can’t understand why anyone would ever want to go near the (often quite literally) sodding place.

I hear you. I’ve had the pigeon-shit thing. It’s annoying.

But whatever you feel about Venice, it won’t be bland.
There’s no meh, about Venice.
You can’t ‘sort of like Venice’, much as you can’t ‘sort of like orgasms.’

She’s a City who divides people the second they arrive, and elicits emotions of all kinds, that most of us never knew we had within us. I’ve never felt so elated, enraged, happy, murderous, overjoyed, depressed, light, heavy, clear-minded, bat-shit fucking insane, at peace, exhausted, calm or agitated as I have in Venice.

She sure as shit ain’t boring, I’ll give her that.

So anyway… WHY VENICE, Liz?!

Sorry.

OK, two answers:

First, I came here in 1984 when I was 9, and fell in love. This is one of my diary entries from that visit:

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If there is a more moving, beautiful story of falling in love than eating a dead rabbit, spraying tomato juice down your front and getting it washed off with ‘special stuff’, I’d like to hear it.

It was love. LOVE, I tell you. And it’s never gone away.

Secondly…..well, just look at her. I mean seriously. Fucksake, LOOK at her. 👀

Mosquitos, tourists, tacky glass gondolas and all....

I’M IN 😍 

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First glimpse

First glimpse

Taking flight

Taking flight