I recently wrote a piece of flash fiction for one of Sacha Black’s Writespirations, and it seemed to take place in Venice. This took me back to a visit I made there many years ago, and so I thought I’d make Venice this week’s Wednesday Wander destination.
I could write loads about Venice. But I won’t. All I’ll say is that it is a place of roses and magic, that Canaletto was right about the light, that it floats like a mirage on the lagoon. That you can meet a man who traces his Venetian lineage back eight hundred years, and another who sings country music, and sells the sweetest strawberries you’ve ever tasted. That the nights are lantern lit, that the roads are made of water and the pavements of whitest stone. That it’s no wonder there were sighs on the Bridge of that name, as the convicted took their last look at this immortal city of wonders.