THE WRONG CROWD
Shrouded in history and mystery, Venice’s crumbling beauty is impossibly exquisite. We sigh at the gilded Saint Mark’s Basilica and the lacy architecture of the Doge’s Palace, its gleaming duomos and gilded spires having inspired as many sonnets as the city’s interwoven canals. If only we could get closer. Squeezing our way through the crowds to the Grand Canal, we’re met with the sight of a chaotic tangle of gondolas and taxis.
As we negotiate its labyrinthine streets, elbow-to-elbow with a suffocating influx of tourists, it would seem La Serenissima is no longer so serene. Venice is
