Venice — Stato da Mar
“Venice is a city built on water, but its real beauty lies in the way it embraces the past while simultaneously living in the present.”
Venice is a city I always consider a must-visit. If I get the chance to go there, I have no doubt I will. It’s a place I never tire of. While it can get crowded in the summer, there’s always a quiet corner to find as you explore.
After spending a month in Spain, I went backpacking and ventured to Venice. My first visit was in the summer of 1997 during my backpacking year. Then, out of the blue, in 2002, I decided to return in February after spending a week in Paris.
My experience in Venice left a lasting impression. The city’s charm goes beyond the summer crowds. Even amidst the throngs of tourists, there’s always a peaceful spot where you can imagine Venice during its heyday as a trading power.
One winter, I found myself in Venice in January, and it was a revelation. With fewer tourists, the city revealed its true essence, offering a more intimate experience. While summer is busy and vibrant, the tranquility of winter has its own unique appeal.
Originally, I was headed to Trieste, but I was drawn to Mestre, where I stayed for several days. From there, I explored Venice, each visit feeling like stepping into a world of its own—separate from the masses. It felt like entering a kingdom, where the spirit of Venice embraced me, free from the flow of visitors.
In a narrative depicting the essence of trade, Venice stands alone in its exceptional organization for commerce. Its inhabitants, deeply ingrained with mercantile instincts, meticulously assessed risks and returns, viewing profit as a science. The emblematic red and gold lion banner of Sant Mark adorned ships' mastheads akin to a modern corporate logo. Trade formed the bedrock of Venetian identity and validation, despite drawing ire from neighboring lands. The city's plea in 1343 to engage in trade with the Muslim world encapsulates its raison d'être and insecurities vividly.
The somber tone of the plea's conclusion reflects a melancholic aspect of the Venetian psyche. Its prosperity relied on intangible assets—devoid of land, natural resources, agriculture, or significant population—leaving it standing on precarious ground, both figuratively and literally. Venice epitomized a virtual economy, confounding outsiders with its robustness despite lacking conventional means of sustenance. Its sole harvest was metaphorical: the accumulation of wealth, with constant dread of collapse if trade routes faltered, illustrating the fragility underlying its grandeur. … City of Fortune by Roger Crowley