First Impressions

      My original idea of Venice was remarkably close to my first impression. The heavy fog that accompanied our arrival aided in the likeness of that impression. The city was slightly obscured and softened by mist, adding the mysterious qualities that I had expected. The unexpected abounded as well, around every tight corner and through every crevice was a new treasure. At times, a wrong turn led only to a water entrance, a direct stairway and dock into the canal, but that discovery in itself was a treasure.

      There were also notable differences that I had expected to encounter. I knew that my imagination would fail to provide all the details that would exist, making the actual scenes richer and more vibrant than those I had pictured. These details came out in two major ways: the age of the buildings and the sounds of the city. While I had pictured majestic and breathtaking structures, I had forgotten that many of them would show the centuries that they had been standing. The eroded stone ornamentation and the peeling paint made the city somehow more real. It reminded me that although Venice is a beautiful place rich with culture and history, it is a real city filled with real people and susceptible to the passage of time. I had imagined Venice as a place to step back in time, but Venice is truly a living and changing piece of history, not a frozen museum.

            The sounds of Venice added another dimension of experience as well. Everywhere I went, the sounds brought a sense of reality to the surreal sights that surrounded me. The endless chatter in the Piazza San Marco, the flapping of the pigeon wings in front of the Doge’s palace, the lilt of Italian in the crowded streets, and the barking of dogs echoing out of apartments made the experience of Venice deeper that the purely visual fantasy that I had created. The addition of sounds, both familiar and exotic, grounded me in reality even as Venice swept me away with its magic.

      While many scenes in Venice elicit surreal feelings, I was able to ground myself more easily than I expected. In staring at the columns of St. Mark and St. Theodor, set against the vibrant blue water and with seagulls swooping between them, one needs only glance at the worn base of the column or hear a rose vendor shouting out prices to remember that, although Venice has the beauty of an alternate world, it is still a city like any other.