








How did anyone truly absorb the beauty of Venice, or any other popular tourist destination for that matter, if they couldn't even remove their cameras from their faces long enough to enjoy the moment in front of them, or get past the commercial experience being sold to them?

If I was this irritable after a few days, I began to wonder how Venetians who had to endure this charade at all hours of the day felt. I casually brought up the overwhelming number of visitors in conversations and sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed: it was a difficult lifestyle, so difficult in fact that many had chosen to leave.

“Venice now has two types of residents — retirees and students studying at the university,” they told me.

I felt sad for Venice, a city with so much to offer, but with few there to see beyond the facade of mask-shaped magnets, gondola rides and the constant click of cameras.

On my last day, I escaped to San Pietro di Castello, an island connected to Venice that I was told by locals was a “hidden gem.” With more lush views and fewer people, it lived up to its reputation. The warm breeze of Castello and the sweetness of Venice swirled together in those last few hours where being in the moment counted more than being in a photo.

I couldn't have captured it in a frame, even if I had tried. So I didn't. I put my camera away and indulged in gelato to seal the experience through something that had never failed me when it came to preserving memories: my taste buds. Sure enough, the flavor is still lingering.
