I fled to Venice because I felt empty, but trip of just 38 hours filled me with art and poetry. Strolling alone through the narrow streets along the lagoon, admiring every cubic centimetre of this spectacle of romanticism, harmony and sumptuousness, and finding metaphors in its bridges and contrasts… all this was therapy for the soul. In a small corner of shade the gondolieri speak in their soft, musical accent, and my gaze wanders to the colours that spring from the reflections of the palaces along the canal.
Barcelona – Venecia. Seat 19B