Venice always seemed to be a place of darkness and melancholy. I’m sure if I visited the place and actually saw it for myself, I wouldn’t think it would, but that’s the way I see it. Maybe there’s many boats and water admist the buildings that have been around for centuries with the clouds unfurling across a gray sky. It would depress me to feel so closed in all the time. It happened to me in England and I was only there for three weeks. I couldn’t imagine being there every day for the rest of my life.
And yet Venice is the place that everybody talks about visiting at least once in their lives. It’s a tourist destination filled with the usual touristy traps that get old very, very quickly. Italy just doesn’t appeal to me. I appreciate their food, but I don’t think I could ever go and see where the origins are.
Perhaps that’s what happens to one of the most romantic cities in Europe. It’s known for being romantic, yet touched with a melancholy flair. So many unrequited loves and broken hearts must have sunk down into its pores. But that’s just my humble impressions.