Hey! So, I just got back from Venice, and wow, let me tell you, it was something else! When I thought about the best things to do in Venice, I was prepared for the usual touristy stuff—gondola rides, the iconic canals, etc. But honestly, it turned out to be so much more than that.
This spot? Total surprise.
On my first day, I found myself wandering around aimlessly (which, let me tell you, is both delightful and absurd in Venice). I took a wrong turn trying to find St. Mark's Square—of course, my navigation skills had abandoned me the moment I stepped into the mazy streets. But then, out of nowhere, I stumbled across a little shop tucked away alleys that smelled like heaven. It was a tiny bakery, and I don't even know what drew me in.
Honestly, I wasn't expecting much, but I gave in and ordered a slice of strudel. I sat on this rickety little chair outside, where a cat decided to join me, probably looking for crumbs or companionship—who knows. But while I was taking my first bite, it felt like the heavens opened up. This strudel was warm, flaky, and so incredibly rich, bursting with apples and cinnamon. I swear I could taste the care in every bite. Sitting there, cat at my feet, I felt enveloped by the warmth of a simple moment that seemed to hit deeper than any grand attraction could.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
One afternoon, I decided to take a break from the norm—perhaps fueled by too many Instagram posts touting the “must-dos.” I ended up at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection. Honestly, I just went because I remembered reading about it, and not being super into modern art, I was feeling kind of skeptical. But oh man, walking into that place felt like finding a treasure hidden underwater.
There were pieces by Pollock, Picasso, and even a beautiful sculpture by Giacometti that literally stopped me in my tracks. I sat on a bench, soaking in the light pouring through the seemingly perfect windows, and for a brief moment, I forgot I was just a lost tourist. I think this was one of those moments where the art didn't just sit there looking good; it reached out and grabbed me.
After my visit, I wandered into the gardens behind the museum. I didn't think it would be anything special, but those gardens were absolutely enchanting. I found that I could breathe there, just sit on a worn stone bench, surrounded by flowers and whispers of the breeze.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
So, let me talk about my atrocious sense of direction for a second because it almost got me into a mess I didn't need, especially in Venice. I was on my way to this supposedly gorgeous restaurant, Trattoria da Fiore. I mean, I had heard that they had the best cicchetti (Venetian tapas), and I was excited for a good meal. But, spoiler alert: I got hella lost and ended up on the opposite side of the city.
At first, I cursed under my breath, thinking about all the food I was missing. But then, I stumbled upon a quiet canal where the water reflected the colorful buildings like a painting. A man was fishing, and I hesitantly approached to watch him. We ended up chatting—he didn't speak great English, and my Italian was nonexistent. Still, we shared a few laughs, gestures, and he even showed me his catch: a handful of fish sparkling in the sun.
In that moment, I felt so much warmth and joy, so much more than the food I'd thought I'd be missing. It just turned out to be a delightful detour that shaped my experience. Plus, I finally found my restaurant afterward, and it was everything I had imagined. Fresh seafood, crunchy bread, every cicchetto flavorful and addictive.
That meal—and the heartache of leaving
Can we just talk about the meal I had at Trattoria da Fiore? The cicchetti were artfully arranged; there was an anchovy that was practically a work of art on a crispy crostini. I maybe ate too many, and when the tiramisu came out, my heart melted. I had a moment of deep reflection—I mean, how could something be this good? I felt like I was tasting the soul of Venice with every bite. You know how some meals sit with you long after you're done? This was one of those.
But as I watched the sun set over the Grand Canal, I felt this rush of inevitability. I didn't want to leave! I could feel those moments slipping through my fingers like the water in the canals. I wanted to stay forever wrapped up in the nostalgia of quaint bridges and bustling piazzas, perfectly blending into the chaos of everyday life.
Okay, I'm rambling now and I should probably wrap this up, but Venice has this way of making you feel at home even if you're just a visitor. Each wrong turn, the random encounters, and those little bites of my meals—it all found a special place in my heart.
So, the best things to do in Venice? Maybe try getting a little lost. Indulge in spontaneous moments, even if they seem small at first. They end up being anything but ordinary. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find my way back someday. I think I need another round of that strudel.
