Everything I'd read and heard about Venice led me to believe it would be a tourist-choked pit of despair, with stripy shirt gondoliers and accordion players harassing you on every corner. But I fell in love with the place even as we rode the water bus from the airport into town.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Venice is gorgeous. Even when you're seeing it with 10,000 of your closest friends. And with only a little effort, you could wander away from Plaza San Marco (which is actually pretty impressive) to find quiet alleys, intimate plazas, and excellent trattorias on the canal serving freshly-caught- albeit spendy - Venetian seafood.
On our first night in town, though, I didn't have the patience to findthe perfect eatery that balanced value, authenticity, and deliciousness, so we ended up at the equivalent of Domino's. Apparently, it is possible to have bad pizza in Italy. Still, with a view of the setting sun and a can of beer, I was content. Even Jen, who broke her rule about having the correct number of candles to blow out on her birthday, seemed satisfied. Plus, after dinner, Jen diligently started her plan to have a gelato a day for three weeks.
We spent only 1 day in town - about enough for us - wandering from plaza to plaza, eating panini, marveling at the Italian-ness of it all. That afternoon, we took the water bus over to the Island of Glass Blowing, and watched an old man magically transform a blob of magma into a delicate speckled horse in 60 seconds. He's apparently been busy, since every store on that island sold the same horse, along with a million other pieces of glass crap. These are the artfifacts of your grandmother's sitting room. In fact, I recognized a heavy glass ashtray from my own grandmother's house, sending me back to my childhood.
We had dinner by the canal - an excellent plate of polenta, fresh shellfish, and simple tomato and basil pasta, along with the house white.
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