Atlantis, Italian Style

I spent yesterday thinking about Venice, most likely because I'm on page 120 of EPL (Eat Pray Love) and the author's experience there was anything but the one we had. She detested the city, pulled from it what she called its sinking melancholy and asserted she wouldn't have gotten off antidepressants as soon if she had decided to live there rather than Rome.

Well, nuts to that. What she saw as ugly 'peeling and fading facades' we saw as an unbelieveably beautiful and evolving patina of life that has flourished here for centuries. What was scoffed at in its 'tested endurance of this 14th century science experiment' to us was magnificence of seeing an Atlantis that survived.

Were there no magical moments for her at the Bridge of Sighs and the joyful casting off of all hope of doing anything but wandering down narrow, deep, impossibly disorganized streets that went deeper into the city than the canals?

Did she not lay in bed with the windows flung open and cool air fluttering the drapes and listen to the sounds of clothes flapping in the wind and the city coming alive? We hopped up on aching calves from hours of walking up and down all the steps and bridges, celebrating in another day of the same.  I mourned having to leave Venice.

I loved looking into the eyes of the people and seeing no secret truth they keep for themselves when the last light is turned off for the night. Venice is what it is and it makes no claim otherwise. We found that to be incredible.

It is a mistake to approach Venice like you do Florence or Rome, expecting a well made up face and to have to invest weeks there before you uncover the city beneath.  To be honest there was some ambiguity about seeing Venice at all, for it elicits strong emotions on both sides. Would it be worth a stop, we wondered? And because of that, we invested none of ourselves in it ahead of time or attached any expectations like it being 'the city of romance and beauty'. We just wanted to see someplace the likes of which is nowhere else.

It IS that. Venice swept me up in its arms in the irresistible dichotomy - is dichotomy the right word? - of immense beauty, environmental  obstacles and cultural haughtiness. The Venetians are a fiercely proud and gritty people who seem to simultaneously despise and adore tourism. Its flaws are completely visible. In spite of the obvious drawbacks, Venetians work very hard at the business of life and industry with a significantly lesser expectation of comfort and ease. I admire that. They cling with all their might to this slowly sinking raft.

Because of all of those things, and the first moments after disembarking from the train to gaze out over the Grand Canal to a city that quite literally took my breath away with its astonishing and unexpected beauty,  Venice arguably became my favorite city of all time. And I compare it with such giants as Athens, Rome, New York, Florence, Sydney, San Francisco, London, Nashville and Paris.

EPL explained that the roots of  modern day Italian in large measure came from a combination of the lyrical vernacular from the famous 14th century Florentine poet Dante Alighieri, who wrote The Divine Comedy, and mixed in with various Italian dialects, including Venetian, with Latin and Roman root words. Venice is definitely expressive and beautiful.