For weeks and weeks before our trip, we heard a lot of negative things about Venice. It seemed a bit like it would be the kind of place that was disappointing but that had to be seen just because it has to be seen. But we didn’t find Venice disappointing at all.
The Grand Canal is stunningly picturesque. My theory about Venice is that your first view of it is the best one. Because no matter where that first view happens, the water-world of Venice canals and gondolas takes your breath away. Once the city gives it back to you, the gasps are never quite as deep and enriching as that first one, although they don’t exactly disappear altogether either.
The Grand Canal is beautiful, snaking its way through the city with only a few options for crossing (note: if you go to Venice, look up Traghettos and save a hundred bucks). The square is beautiful. Venice is like a living ruin, gasping for breath but alive enough to whisper tales of a city that was once the center of civilization.
On our first night in Venice, we decided to head towards the sunset. The day was ending and we thought it would be the perfect little excursion to introduce us to the streets of Venice. Kylie and I have travelled to thirty countries together and we know how to navigate a foreign city. But that didn’t keep us from getting lost in Venice. It did, however, keep us from being afraid of getting lost, which, in Venice, is just as good. We simply headed West, hoping to spill out of the confusing maze into an adequate spot.
We ended up on the industrial edge of Venice with smoke-billowing machinery scattered like a child playing with Legos. It wasn’t any place that you’d find in a brochure from Venice tourism, to say the least. But it was one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. It washed out the ugly, completely overcoming the mess on the ground.
I actually like the decay in Venice. It is a reminder that the heights of glamour are always temporary. The place is kind of a mess, but it is a beautiful mess. We tend to demand that things be nice and clean and orderly and at their height in order for us to be acceptable. You hear this same decay/dirty complaint about many large cities all over the world.
My life certainly looks that way. All the maintenance and ingenuity I try to throw at it can’t help it from looking a bit messy. I want to find a finish line. I want to get to a podium that I can stand on and settle into and feel satisfied atop of for the rest of my days. But the world was not made for that. No matter how much I accomplish or what I achieve, there is still mess. It is never fully eliminated, only redeemed.
Venice used to be on a worldly podium. It used to be the belle of the ball. Now, there is mold and dwindling population. The city is almost a museum of itself.
But just like my messy life, Venice sometimes gets beat up a little more than it deserves. Our trip was bookended by sunsets, the one mentioned above and another on the night we left, which we saw from a water-bus on the Grand Canal. These blankets of color overwhelmed everything else. And the truth is that Venice is beautiful in its own right, the mess and maze actually add to its charm. Sometimes the majesty of a sunset is needed to help bring to light the majesty floating throughout the city.
I loved Venice and would love to go back someday. It helped me to think about the idea that, although my mess needs maintenance, maybe the best solution to living that fulfilled life is to not trying to scrub a city full of messes and start appreciating the much truer and much more important rays of light.
