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Mari’s Journal
1 December 2006
Venice, Italy

Venetian Imprints

Barely twenty-four hours in Venice. How fast it has flown by! I am sitting here in a little café across the hotel with a bowl of spaghetti, trying to recount all that I have seen and experienced in barely twenty-four hours. It really is a small city, and I do not believe I ever imagined how extremely different the pace of the city would be from that of Rome, for example. The central means of transportation are boats, and slow-moving ones at that, and there is a never-ending maze of streets that do not leave much room for impatience or frenzy. From every corner you can spot water. Every little bridge boasts gondoliers with their charming smiles and bright black-and-white lined shirts that are hard not to notice.

For whatever odd, non-logical reason, I never pictured that damp, misty weather would be the norm. It works wonders in the nighttime. It fills the floating city with mystery and wonder at night. Drifting in and out of fog and in and out of dark tunnels is quite the sensational experience. Every sense of the human body is on the edge, and the slightest noise sends shivers down one’s back and makes every hair rise up in alarm. Walking at night is like walking into the scene of a mystery or drama currently enfolding.  It is a charming city by day, and a mysterious one by night.

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