Life is like a Canal

Venice was never one of those cities that I really wanted to see. What’s so great about canals? We have them in Canberra but they’re called stormwater drains and are bone dry for most of the year. The canals in Britain usually double as the local tip. As for romantic, it’s hard to top a revolving restaurant for romance and alliteration.

So I came to Venice ready to pour scorn upon it but it got under my skin within hours. It took me a while to figure out why but it dawned on me that after walking through a large part of the city there hadn’t been one car, no traffic lights or pollution. After years of being subservient to cars I was finally in a place where the pedestrian is king.

The canals in Venice don’t really rock my world. They are what you would expect and would be a delightful surprise if you had never heard of them before. I found the nicest thing about them was that once you escaped the tourist throng all you could hear was the gentle lapping of water. It is a very relaxing city and I can see how a quiet stroll along the canals sometime past midnight after a couple of bottles of wine shared with someone special would be lovely.

That said, I don’t think I’ve come across a city worse for getting staggeringly drunk in. If you manage to avoid falling into a canal you have to face the water bus rocking you to and fro the entire way home. It’s one of those places that is much better to visit, mainly because all the tourists would start to piss me off. I wo’ldn’t blame the native inhabitants of the city for hating tourists with a passion. They remind me of pigeons as they trot around in groups shitting on everything. There is a more literal link between the two as tourists seem to enjoy feeding the pigeons and having the filthy beasts clamber all over them. People become surrounded by a seething grey mass. Surely it is only a matter of time before the pigeons become dissatisfied with corn and bread. One of those little beaks will peck off a tiny piece of flesh and the word will spread of this new delicacy. Soon the skies will be full of rabid, flesh-eating pigeons. People won’t think they’re so cute then.

I only intended to stay in Venice for a night but when the hostel say they are locking you out of the rooms, they mean the entire place. So with my bag inside and me outside I had no option but to stay an extra day. I can think of worse places to be stranded. Venice may have smelly water, bad food, too many tourists, Italian guys singing in gondoliers and manky pigeons but it’s Venice and no-one cares because it’s magical.

The only regret I have is that I was here by myself. The happy couple factor is high and walking around by yourself is not they way to go. I will have to come back when the air is still and quiet and the streets are bare, to share it with someone special.

The next city on the menu is the one all roads used to lead to and has seen more orgies than a por’ star’s mansion. I’m expecting a change of pace and a little bit of madness.

Dave out.

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