Leaning tower of Venice
The next day dawns even later. I roll out at a disgusting eleven o’clock, and when we finally do make our way into Venice, it is well into the noon hour. Throughout the day, we wander throughout Venice, with little rhyme or purpose, frequently getting lost and found again. One thing that’s particularly quint about Italians, is the way they hang their laundry between buildings on their clotheslines. Somehow, they usually match the pastel colors of the buildings passing along a very pleasing aesthetic, completely unlike the dirty looking laundry that collects outside the windows of buildings in Asia.
Italian women are a particularly wonderful thing as well. Though they come in all shapes and sizes, a significantly larger proportion of the population believes in rather sheer clothing, and as a result, spend considerable time ensuring that their undergarments match their clothes as well as enhance their figure, it is a clothing choice I can support without hesitation.
Venice is a purely tourist destination. The entire city is built of stone and brick in the middle of the water, for what reason, I cannot quite fathom. The cost must have been outrageous, and even now, transportation of goods and trash into and out of the island city must be done entirely on foot, using wheelbarrows and carts that work up and down these ridiculous stepped bridges.
Besides all that, the typical gondolas, romantic singers and guitar players, Venice is a city of artisans. There are several universities devoted to art and architecture here in the city, and students run to and fro amongst the press of tourists. Every shop seems to be another artisan outlet, glass and bead works, sculpture shops, and venetian masks all compete for our attention. And the venetian masks are fantastic, each one is more elaborate then the next, commanding prices into the hundred of dollars, never before have I been particularly intrigued by venetian balls and the related costuming, but here, with the outfits resplendent in details and intricacy, I suddenly have the urge to concoct a mask of my own and attend one of these elaborate events. And concoct a mask I will have to, because while the female masks are all sorts of beautiful, the male masks are overwhelmingly boring and similar. Long nose, horse head, jester mask, these are the archetypes I apparently must play with, I will have to change it all up and throw in some Batman.
Venice graffiti
