We arrived at the airport and took a bus to Piazzale Roma, adjacent to the Santa Lucia Railway Station. This is the part of traveling that hardly ever gets romanticized when you're backpacking: getting from one place to another. We could've spent a ton of money on a taxi from the airport, but even then we'd have to take a water taxi to get to our hotel or just walk. By the time we were in Italy, we were done walking with our backpacks. DONE. We were also starving and poor, so we took a bus for about 6 euro and a water taxi to our hotel (Hotel Al Duca di Venezia - turned out to be quite lovely) and then booked it to some pasta. Dalt on the GPS and me, 10 feet behind at all times, stopping to marvel at and photograph every damn thing I saw. You can't blame me though???
We got pasta to go from Dal Moro's (photographed somewhere below) once we careened our way through the crowds and hallways of streets. They make their own pasta right in front of you in their little hole-in-the-wall shop.
The hardest part about Venice and perhaps every other destination is that I had an idea of it in my head and that idea did not include it being overrun with tourists. It is overrun with tourists. And look, I was one of them in the way that I too was visiting one of the most visited spots in the world. I feel as if it's sinking because of the foot traffic from those very people who want to see it before it sinks. It felt much less intimate than I expected -- romantic, yes -- but I think I'd wish to visit in the off season, where I could run up and down the corridors and dart into cozy corner restaurants. I dream of a desolate Venice, where St. Marks Square is empty apart from the pigeons, in part because if I were alone I would feel as if I were taking a trip back in time, no iPhones or Sketchers to be seen.