Last Friday after work, I went to the Lido beach with Alberto and his family. It was a very pleasant time, and the water was as warm in mid-June as it ever gets at Nova Scotia’s beaches. There were some gentle waves, and the sand, except for a line of washed-up seashell fragments that were pretty spiky, was fine and soft. You can find all sorts of nice things on that beach, too, like unusual shells and even, in our case, a piece of blue Murano beach glass (with some bits of what looked like gold or something in it).

It got me thinking – wouldn’t living in Venice be a bit like living in permanent vacation mode? Sure, you have to work during the day, but when you finish and head home at the end of the day, hey, you’re still in Venice. And there’s the beach nearby, and the weather’s typically warm and sunny for a lot of the year, and your vision is constantly supersaturated with manmade, if not natural, beauty.

But I think you adjust to the fact that you’re in Venice, and it ceases to be special. The long walk down the Viale Vittorio Veneto/Riva dei Sette Martiri/Riva Ca’ di Dio/Riva degli Schiavoni affords me breathtaking views of San Marco each day as I go to work, but I think I am becoming jaded. Instead of enjoying it, I’ve begun to dread the distance, which alone accounts for almost half of my total walk to/from the office each day. Factor in the steady stream of tourists who like to stop and take pictures at the top of the city’s narrowest bridges, and it’s almost a chore.

I did notice a trail of blood on the steps of the Ponte de la Ca’ de Dio the other day, though. Who knows what goes on in Venice late at night? Whatever it was, I’m sure it was a far cry from the imagined “air of mystery” that so many clueless tourists associate with Venice. No, Venetians do not run around wearing Carnevale masks and riding in gondolas and conducting lives full of intrigue. That much I know for sure.

Another thing I know, too, is that I’ve begun to take for granted the lack of cars here. You notice it the minute you disembark from your vaporetto on the Lido, when you’re confronted with a busy street full of drivers ready to run over any oblivious pedestrians. And I really noticed it today, as Alberto and I took a drive in his car from the Piazzale Roma (Venice’s parking lot) to Padova, Treviso and Mestre. In Venice, except for the tourist-related jams in the narrower thoroughfares, there’s never any waiting because of traffic. But on the mainland, you contend with stoplights, road construction, endless rotaries and reckless drivers. As Alberto put it, you tense up the minute you get in your car, and only when you have returned to Venice and parked can you really relax. There truly is a noticeable difference…

It was a nice trip, though. I was never clear on the exact purpose, but Alberto had some business to conduct in Padova (the more industrial district, not the nice part, which I assume does exist somewhere). We took a detour on the way back so I could see Treviso, which really was an exceptionally beautiful little town. Two wealthy families, Benetton and De’Longhi, have their origins in Treviso, and it was a popular place for the Venetian nobility to build country villas, many still standing, during the height of the Venetian Republic. The sense of wealth remains, and while some of Treviso and the surrounding area suffered under Allied bombings during WWII, it has been rebuilt and is quite lovely today. I think I’ll take Ori there when she gets to Venice.

And don’t forget to visit the photo gallery, where there are several new sets of recent photos from Venice.