Venice has this delicate vibe, like it’s caught between real life and a dream. Instead of traffic noise, you hear the gentle lapping of water, and the streets feel like they’re taking a deep breath. When I got there, the morning fog was still hanging around the canals, softening the look of the bridges and buildings. The air had a nice mix of salt and espresso.

I just started wandering without any plan. The city revealed itself in layers — tiny paths leading to secret courtyards, laundry lines swaying over the streets, and the occasional sound of footsteps echoing off the stone. Venice doesn’t rush you; it kind of whispers, inviting you to take it slow and soak it all in. I found the real charm not in the famous sights but in little moments — a gondolier quietly humming, the pastel buildings reflected on the water, and the light dancing on the surface like a sweet memory.