This was written two weeks ago.

Ok, I haven’t updated this in a while, I know… But I have an excuse. I usually do these blogs in Accounting class (the most boring class in the history of the universe) and I haven’t had the class in two weeks. But now I’m here. And you’d think I should be paying attention, because I have my first midterm in this class (already?) next week. And I’m gonna fail. Stupid Stern curve. Anways, Venice…

Hold on. Pause: No one in our class understands anything and we’re all going to fail the test so I may need to pay attention if only for a bit…

A couple weekends ago, Jess and I took a wonderful trek to Venezia, Italia. It was the perfect day for the perfect city: as soon as I steppe off the train I knew I’d fall in love with it. I was born and raised a mere 2 minute walk from the Pacific Ocean, and I could see it from my bedroom window. I’ve always been obsessed with water: I love streams through forests and rivers through canyons and sunsets on beaches.

And I think that’s why I loved Venice so much—no streets, just canals running through the city, with boats replacing cars and bridges replacing crosswalks. Instead of tripping and falling off a sidewalk into the street, you ran the risk of plummeting into a huge body of water with no form of barricade protecting you.

As I said earlier, the day we got to Venice was probably the most gorgeous day I’ve seen so far in Italy. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the weather was a perfect 65 degrees F, and the sun was almost setting, reflecting a gorgeous orange on the faces of all the surrounding bodies of water. The walk from the train station to our hostel was about 30 minutes (contrary to the directions they gave us, which said it was 15), but it really was a great walk, and the more of the city I saw the more I fell in love with it. Bridges, gondolas, and cobblestone paths merged perfectly with Lush and McDonalds; Little shops and stands selling souvenirs stood perfectly situated outside of The Disney Store and United Colors. There was even a huge, old style church that had “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam” etched across it’s front; the first Jesuit anything I’ve seen in an extremely Catholic country. It was, honestly, extremely exciting.

After our 30 minute self-touring of the city, we finally got to our Hostel, called The Venice Museum, which was a lot like a museum: busts on the wall, huge paintings abound, and ornate vases and tables everywhere. We met up with dear Holley and Brooks, who came down to Prague for Jess’s birthday, and walked around the city even more.

The first memorable locale in which we found ourselves was at the Ponte Rialto, the Rialto bridge. It sits above a primary river, and because the day was absolutely gorgeous it was quite a sight to behold. Gondolas going up and down the river against a postcard backdrop…. Beautiful.

Then everything is a haze, because it happened like a month ago. DAMN this stupid blog! But we went into this gorgeous palace, which is where my newfound love for ceilings originated. That palace whose name slips my mind is definitely one of the highlights of Venice… what is it called? The Doge Palace? Anyways, it was beautiful. I believe a masquerade ball in its main hall is in order, ala Gossip Girl.

Another highlight was the main cathedral, Catedrale San Marco.