It was still dark when our bus rolled out of Munich, tracing its way south through the Alpine routes toward Italy. The excitement of visiting Venice, the fabled city built on water, kept everyone wide awake. After hours on the road, the landscape began to shift, the air turned salty, and the sunlight glistened over the Venetian Lagoon. By the time we reached the bus terminal at Tronchetto, the day had properly begun. From there, the only way forward was by boat.
The
moment our vaporetto (water bus) glided into the Grand Canal, it felt
like entering a painting that had suddenly come to life. The canal curved like
an inverted “S” through the city, lined with palaces that seemed to rise
straight out of the water. Our boat cruised past the Palazzo Grassi, the
ornate Ca’ Rezzonico, and the Gothic splendour of Ca’ d’Oro,
their façades reflecting centuries of art, trade, and power. Gondolas drifted
alongside us, their oars dipping rhythmically, a vivid reminder that this is a
city without roads.
As we
neared the Piazza San Marco, the Grand Canal widened, revealing one of
Europe’s most iconic sights. Stepping off the boat felt like stepping into
history. The Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark’s Square, spread out before
us, a vast open space bordered by grand arcades, their arches framing elegant
shops and historic buildings. The square’s symmetry and openness were
breathtaking, with the Campanile towering over one end and the Basilica
di San Marco gleaming at the other.
We
started with the Doge’s Palace (Palazzo Ducale), a masterpiece of
Venetian Gothic architecture. Its façade of pink Verona marble and white
limestone stood in striking contrast to the blue sky. Inside, the palace
unfolded like a museum of Venetian power. The Chamber of the Great Council,
the largest room in the palace, was awe-inspiring, its golden ceiling framed
colossal paintings by Tintoretto and Veronese. Walking through the Hall of
the Senate, the Council Chamber, and the Armory, we could
imagine the grandeur of the days when Venice ruled the seas.
A narrow,
enclosed corridor led us next to the Bridge of Sighs, connecting the
palace to the old prison. Looking through its small stone windows, one could
sense the emotion behind its name, prisoners’ last glimpse of Venice before
imprisonment. The quiet canal below, shadowed and still, seemed far removed
from the lively piazza we had just left.
Emerging
again into sunlight, we turned toward the St. Mark’s Basilica, a
dazzling blend of Byzantine domes and golden mosaics. Its intricate façade, filled
with arches, marble inlays, and bronze horses, told stories from centuries
past. Inside, the shining gold mosaics covered almost every surface, creating
an atmosphere of both grandeur and reverence.
Adjacent
to it stood the St. Mark’s Campanile, the tall red-brick bell tower that
dominates the Venetian skyline. Taking the elevator to the top, we were
rewarded with a panoramic view, the domes of the basilica, the web of canals,
and the endless lagoon stretching toward the Adriatic. Below, in the square,
the Lion of Venice stood proudly atop its column, the winged lion
symbolizing St. Mark and the Republic’s enduring spirit.
Crossing
one of the smaller canals, we continued toward the Ponte di Rialto, the
most famous bridge in Venice. Its elegant stone arch framed the bustling life
of the Grand Canal. From its top, we watched gondolas weaving below and boats
loaded with goods passing through, the same activity that had defined Venice’s
trading heart for centuries. The surrounding area buzzed with small shops
selling Venetian masks, glasswork, and souvenirs.
In the
afternoon, we boarded a boat heading toward the Murano Islands, known
worldwide for their glassmaking heritage. The ride through the lagoon offered a
quieter, more local side of Venice, with pastel-coloured houses and calm
waters. On Murano, we visited a glass factory, where artisans
demonstrated the centuries-old craft of glassblowing. Watching them shape
molten glass into delicate vases and intricate figurines was mesmerizing; a
fusion of skill and patience that defined their legacy.
As the
sun dipped lower, we made our way back by boat, retracing the Grand Canal in
the golden light of evening. The palaces glowed warmly, and the reflections
danced across the rippling water. By the time we reached the bus station, night
had quietly settled over the lagoon. Boarding our return bus to Munich, we
carried with us vivid images, of canals glistening under sunlight, bridges
steeped in history, and a city that defied the very idea of land. Venice had
left its unique mark, a floating dream anchored firmly in reality.
