Hidden Venice

Venice at Christmas holds the extra appeal of being less touristy, allowing freer range to the network of narrow alleys that web the city. There are tourist maps, but we quickly realized that these were virtually useless, as streets aren't labeled, and the urban planners who designed Venice didn't exactly use a grid to lay them out. One inevitably gets lost, turns down another alley, finds oneself facing a canal at the end of it, then turns around, finds a bridge (was this the same bridge we crossed before?), crosses the canal, walks down another narrow alley...you get the picture. That, of course, is the fun of Venice. While there are certain tourist stops (San Marco, etc.), the draw of Venice is its capacity to swallow you in its old-world aura. Your job is simply to be guided only by instinct and the smell of focaccia. Below you'll see a variety of shots untouted in the guidebooks, but charming in their own way, all stumbled upon while searching for...well, exactly this.

Though the colors drew us to this cluster, it was the chimneys that ended up charming us.

Venice is sinking, or at least the left side of this door is.

This woman caught my eye from across the piazza.

So I zoomed in. And then she closed her shutters, with what I imagined (I hope I only imagined it) to be a cynical eye toward my prying eye.

This is in Murano, an island across the lagoon from Venice known for its glasswork.

Again, the colors drew me. But the four men add the warmth.