We flew to Venice because Barcelona was too expensive, and somehow that decision became one of the best pivots of the trip. After the energy of Madrid, Venice felt like stepping into a painting, quieter, slower and suspended in its own world.
We stayed in a hostel outside the main part of the city; it was a massive, social place with a bar that felt like its own community. Every night, travellers would gather there, talking, laughing and sharing stories from all over the world. It was the kind of hostel that was daunting when you first got there, but you get used to people coming and going the fast-paced environment.
Each morning we took a train into Venice, as well as the boat taxis they had. We watched the landscape shift from ordinary roads to winding canals and bridges that looked too delicate to be real.
One of our favourite days was the boat trip to Burano. The moment we arrived, it felt like walking into a box of crayons.
Houses were painted in bright pinks, blues, reds, colours so bold they didn’t look real. The canals were small, the bridges tiny, and everything felt soft and slow. We wandered through the narrow streets, taking photos, stopping every few minutes just to stare at how beautiful everything was. It was impossible to rush there.
Once we had a wander and got some food, we went to Murano, an island famous for its glass. The glass factory was mesmerising: heat, fire and movement. Between watching a demonstration and running outside for quick hits of the outside air to hide from the heat, we watched artisans shape molten glass into delicate pieces with a kind of confidence that only comes from decades of practice.
The colours, the shine, the precision- it felt like watching art being born.
Another day, we spent hours walking through Venice’s small streets, the kind with twists and turns until you forget where you started. Bridges everywhere, canals reflecting the sky, buildings leaning slightly as if they were tired from centuries of standing.
The trip overall felt like a peaceful getaway, and what topped it all was the reward of my favourite, stracitella ice cream.
I wished every day my partner would be there with me; Venice had this way of making it feel like there was a love story waiting to be written. Venice was a pause in our trip, a place that didn’t rush us, overwhelm us, demand anything except that we slow down and let it unfold. Venice wasn’t the loudest part of our trip; it was the most gentle.
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