Two weeks ago I was experiencing my deepest, brightest, most passionate relationship ever. I was so in love. I had majorly fallen for love, I adored with a heart bigger than the ocean itself. Music, art, movement, architecture, the blink of people’s eyes, the scent of the first coffee in the morning, the sunshine awaking at 7 am. I loved it all.

My amorous adventure began at the Treviso airport. My feet had just healed from the past two years, so once they felt the Venetian land underneath my white Converse (the only pair of shoes I managed to take, given the fact that my hand luggage needed space for the way-back macaroni) – my mind accepted Van Gogh’s idea on yellow paint. “Everyone has their yellow paint” and I had finally found mine.

That was my first travelling abroad relying completely on an unsure reservation at Airbnb. Happily, our questionable host turned out simply amazing. It took him 2 hours, 1 hand-painted map of Venice Mestre, 1 huge map of Venice the island itself, 2 glasses of coke and a huge amount of positive, warm and exceptionally trouble-free peaceful energy to explain what was going on around us and how we can fully take advantage of our time.

So, Venice, my love, my emotional soulmate. Thank you enormously for the beautiful hours we’ve shared. Your streets, corners, unpretentious small ports, my dearest Bridge of Sighs, every step felt like a separate line of a romantic poem without an end.

Of course, my signature elaborated literary high quirks ended every night sometime before 10pm. Why? Because I could automatically survive my messy hair, ruined makeup, lack of a correct outfit, just to catch the closing time of a takeaway pizza place and order a simple Margherita. Why (again)? Because I am food maniac and Italy is my unconcealed guilty pleasure.

How to manage in Venice:

Forget about the map. Enjoy wandering through the narrow streets, try to remember as many balconies, as many rooftops, as many details as possible. Keep it all in your head and gather the vital, the vivid, the important wrong turns in your heart.

Essential tips:

• Less tourists are available early in the morning and nightlife is not as popular.
• Coffee is a superlative nearly everywhere.
• The Aperol Spritz cocktail is 2.50-3 € this season even in the finest bars.
• Do pay for a one-day waterbus travel card , here’s my choice of a daily route:

Venice Piazzale Roma (in order to look through the Grand Canal) – S. Zaccaria – the cemetery island of San Michele (don’t get off the waterbus, just make sure you pass by it) – Murano (do get off and have a walk around the Glass Island) – Burano (do get off and have a walk around the island with the colorful houses) – back to Venice

• Do save a day to take the Trenitalia and visit another close city (to be continued)

All in all, Venice made me feel as if I am not another brick in the wall. Maybe it was the island, maybe it was the company, maybe it was the air, I don’t know and I don’t need to know. I had my five days where I constantly believed in my yellow paint. That’s what matters.

Related connections:

“Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him.
Everyone has their own yellow paint.”