Venice

Venice — that dreamy, floating wonder- my brother and sister-in-law finally got to tick off their bucket list.

We got gloriously lost (as you should in Venice!) — winding through narrow passageways and crossing so many bridges, we were utterly, delightfully confused.

The sun beat down, the Grand Canal glistened like it knew it was the star of the show, while St Mark’s Basilica dazzled in gold… utterly divine!

We inhaled gelato like absolute pros (and yes, partly because the canal was stinking hot too), snapped a million photos on the Rialto Bridge, and lingered for ages, people- and gondola-watching over one, two, three (or perhaps four) espressos and Fegato alla Veneziana — Venetian liver and onions, my one dish I always come back for when in Venice.

In between all the sightseeing, we did what I love most — nothing in particular. We wandered without a map, stopped whenever something caught our eye, and let the city set the pace.

We also hopped over to Murano, Venice’s vibrant little sister. Think rainbow-coloured houses, sleepy canals, and world-famous glass-blowing that left us all wide-eyed like kids in a candy shop. We watched molten glass transform into delicate works of art, dipped into the heat of the furious furnace — and yes, I absolutely left with a souvenir I probably didn’t need (but definitely couldn’t resist).

As the sun dipped low over the lagoon, painting the water in molten gold, it felt like Venice was sending us off with one final, heart-melting love letter.

And when night fell — oh, Venice. The crowds melted away, the gondoliers’ songs floated softly through the quiet canals, and lanterns danced on the water. The whole city seemed to sigh — slower, softer, deamier and somehow even more beautiful.