In between vaporetto rides in Venezia

Burano, Italy

We skipped breakfast because John said we had to catch the first vaporetto to Mazzorbo from Venice. It was a chilly morning and the narrow alleys of Venezia were still empty. The waterbus arrived. Half asleep, I picked a spot with enough sunlight hoping to get some warmth. Before I could even sneak a power nap, I felt the sea breeze numbing my cheeks. Ah, I have yet to get used to seeing sunlight and feeling cold at the same time!

I didn’t know where we were headed but John, who was celebrating his birthday that day, said that “we were having local wine.” It was barely 10am. Then I saw the salmon-hued façade and the sign – Venissa. Omg, were we really going to Venissa? I saw it on Youtube once and I know that it is Michelin-starred and they make their own wines from Dorona, Venice’s local grapes. Apparently, we had a reservation for two at Venissa so we were ushered into the restaurant which was still empty.  The room, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, overlooked the vineyard. (If John and I were a couple, this is when I'd be thinking that he was going to propose by the end of the meal hah!) After opting for a table by the garden, a lady, with what seemed like a Portuguese accent, welcomed us. John and I were toured around the vineyard and told with stories about Venice’s past and how both geography and history came together (the very reason why I got so fascinated with the world of wines) to create a terrior that was unique to Venice alone.

Dorona, the only local grapes in Venezia

Then food was served. It was sooo pretty I didn’t want to eat it. The island’s deep gold wine was a delight at first sight and it tasted really good and unique too – must be the saltiness of the sea and the other underwater character that you won’t find in other terriors.

After devouring the food and wine, we decided to go for a stroll in nearby and candy-colored Burano where people told us that in the past, they had to assign a home color to each fisherman so that it was easy to tell who was missing at sea. Burano was an instant emotional booster. On the other hand, there was a small town vibe going on -- grandmas knitting, grandpas chatting with fellow grandpas. The island was cheerful just as it was melancholic at the same time. 

We ended the day in one of the more quiet and non-touristy waterbus stops which gave us a good view of main Venice. While waiting for the vaporetto, John and I sat on a bench watching Venice being flocked by tourists. I asked him if he could live there to which he answered "Yes, but I will live here where we're at and not on main Venezia." I can't live there. Like Elio's town in Call Me By Your Name, it felt too old and sleepy.
The city was pretty and rustic but there was something about it that was very nostalgic, especially when you're just sitting on a bench and watching life around you move. Its vibe froze me as just the spectator and I am scared me to be just that. 

It's funny how places confront a vulnerability in you. In retrospect, I always remember a place based on 'what it made me feel.' Venice would be like a grandma I did not meet - welcoming but distant, wise, nostalgic. 

Just some tipsy me strolling around Burano