Imagine a city floating on water. Not an island, not a city tormented by floods, just a city which has rivulets instead of streets and boats instead of taxis. A city where buildings are erected on foundations of wood submerged in water.

Venice is the capital of the Veneto region in North East Italy and is infact an archipelago of 117 islands resting in the Venetian Lagoon. It goes by many beautiful names like ‘The Floating City’, ‘The City of Canals’, ‘The City of Masks’ – just to name a few. Being an important center of commerce in the period between the 13th and the 17th century, Venice was one of the wealthiest cities in the world. It is thus no mystery why William Shakespeare decided to feature Venice as a backdrop for his famous play: The Merchant of Venice. However, today, the Venetians make a living primarily out of tourism which is a booming business thanks to the popularity of an element known as ‘elegant decay’- found in abundance in Venice.

The public transportation system here is largely operated by Active Citizens Television  (ACTV).There are several tourist travel cards to choose from depending on the number of days one plans to spend here and like in most European cities, it is an economical option in Venice as well. This allows unlimited use of public transport of all kinds-trams, buses and in this case boats as well.

However, since we had exactly 24 hours in Venice, we chose to walk through the city instead. In my opinion the best way to soak up a city is to explore it on foot and so we headed out in search of our hotel. In India, every 500 meters brings us face to face with a nukkad – street corner with it’s very own paan-waala, chai waala and grocery store. In Venice every 500 meters offered us a canal and every bridge that we crossed led us into an enclosed market place (commonly called Piazza) closely resembling an Indian nukkad (street).

Noticing a pretty little bakery in the heart of one such Piazza, I promptly walked in to the jingling of the bells on the door. I was welcomed by a rotund lady who informed me, beaming, that hers was the best bakery in town. The aromas emanating from the interiors of her little establishment corroborated her belief and I couldn’t stop myself from savouring a yummy looking cannoli. It was the crunchiest baked delicacy that I have ever had. A glorious filling of sweetened cream, nuts and bits of fruit inside a crisp shell pleased my taste buds immensely.

We then located our hotel and as I waited for the hotel concierge to lead us to our room, I felt like a protagonist in an Eastman colour Hindi movie. The villain’s henchman (read-the hotel concierge) would lead us through winding alleys and dark bylanes to a room where we were to be kept hostage till our saviours, whoever they were, decided to rescue us. Just when my fertile imagination began to build up the drama further, an ominous looking yet polite young man approached us to take us to our room.

We dumped our luggage in our room and headed out. Having had our full of the typical ‘museum-church-architecture’ type of sightseeing, we decided to do something different in Venice and so we took a boat to Lido di Venezia – an 11 km long stretch of sand in the Adriatic Sea which is also incidentally the venue for the Venice Film festival each year. An hour long ride later, our boat docked and we caught our first glimpse of the island.

Like any other beach town, Lido has a refreshingly relaxed atmosphere. Perfectly tanned people can be seen sauntering around and surfboards, sun tan lotion, colourful shirts and matching flip flops can be spotted in plenty. The walk from the boat station to the beach was a delight and we enjoyed looking at sea food restaurants painted in vibrant colours and road side stores selling interesting knick knacks.

Unlike most beaches, we found Lido relatively devoid of crowds. The fresh soft sand was inviting and we danced on it to imaginary music. Seagulls in hundreds circled overhead looking for food. They swooped in on scared little insects scurrying across the sand leaving zigzag squiggles in their wake. We treaded carefully on the stone jetties which stubbornly stood their ground amid lashing waves and watched the indigo blue sea merge with the powder blue sky at the horizon. We stood there almost hypnotized, listening to the strains of ‘What a Wonderful World’ by Louis Armstrong which drifted in from somewhere. It was a perfect moment and will remain with me for years to come. By the time we tore ourselves from the beach, it was quite late in the evening and we hurried back to grab some dinner.

There is not much that can be talked about the food that we ate that night, however, the restaurant that we had chosen did offer us the company of some very interesting people. There was a colourful, lean old man sporting a French beard who seemed to be more interested in the young lady whom he was dining with than the food he was eating. His oil-slicked hair and the gold chain dangling from his neck made him look like an Italian gangster.

Another strange couple occupied the booth next to us. In this case, both the man and the woman ensured by gazing dramatically into each other’s eyes that everyone in the room knew how ‘into’ each other they were. Their gigantic seven course meal lay neglected on the table as they just picked at it while whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

The boat ride back home was very interesting as we rode through the Grand Canal witnessing a variety of unusual architecture. The inky black water looked formidable and bottom less.

The following morning, as we made our way to the airport, we came across several roadside costume shops which made us realize that Venice is not only about the canals, the glass work and the rustic charms. Hundreds of shops displayed ornate masks and costumes along with posters advertising upcoming costume parties and other related events. Masks made of porcelain, cloth, cardboard, Plaster-of-Paris and all other possible materials eerily gazed at us from all around.

Nothing is strange in Venice. Spotting a solitary blue hand pump in the middle of nowhere or finding bright green windows on a rundown structure is natural. The crumbling buildings may be in worse condition than the ones we see along local train lines in Mumbai, yet somehow these are said to enhance the elegantly decayed look of the city and add to its charm.

Considering the dilapidated state of infrastructure in most cities back home, I am quite certain that they can also qualify for ‘beauty owing to elegant decay.’ Imagine what that would do to our tourism industry!

Preeti Sharma is an MBA from Symbiosis Institute of Management Studies and dabbles with creative writing. As she stepped into the hectic and mundane routine of corporate life, her writing became her  stress buster. Her insatiable wanderlust and need for change prompt her to travel as much as possible and she is at present, travelling across Europe and trying to pen down as many memories as possible.