"You know Angelina Jolie is here filming at the moment?"
It didn't surprise me. From the moment I stepped off the tiny water ferry and onto the streets of Venice, I felt as if I had been transported into a film set. It was as if everything around me had been placed there specifically to create an atmosphere; from the eerie fog that engulfed the narrow dark alleyways, to the colourful contorted Venetian masks peering out from shop windows. It was 9pm and a wintery darkness had swallowed up Venice, but as I wandered aimlessly alongside liquid black canals, and across bridges, I found myself smiling in awe. Venice in winter is officially the most beautiful place I have ever seen. An Italian winter wonderland.
Visiting Venice out of season has its own very special charm. Suspended between a watery sky and a watery ground, you could spend hours weaving through the interlaced bridges and buildings. Unlike the sweltering summer months, there is a coldness that hits your joints and makes you hug your coat more tightly around you. Rain sprinkles down from the misty skies and at times you find yourself wading through water from the ‘acqua alta' (high tides). But if ever there was a place that makes you feel as if you have stepped into another world, then it is Venice in the winter. Sure, the winds may bite and the watery alleyways leave you with soggy shoes but, in my experience, there is simply nothing more spectacular.
Getting lost in the lagoon
I started my long weekend amongst a boatful of local Venetians as we made the one-hour journey across from Venice Airport to the Piazza San Marco (St Mark's Square). The Venetians looked at me curiously, as if they were pondering whether I had caught the wrong plane. Tourists in general tend to avoid Venice in the winter, preferring the summer months when they can laze on the lido or bask in the sunshine in St Mark's Square. As our little boat pulled into a deserted ferry stop, I dragged my case onto the cobbled street, map in hand, and started to aimlessly wander through corridors and alleyways in the hope of finding my hotel.
This is the beauty of Venice. In any other country, getting lost in the back streets could be an almost petrifying experience. But, as stray dogs scuttled around my feet and old men, playing checkers and drinking coffee, glared at me for shattering their silence, I felt strangely calm. It's hard to feel anything else when, with every corner you turn, you find yourself gazing at canals sprinkled with gondola lights, breathing in the smell of frothy hot chocolate from the air.
Eventually I found my hotel, the Splendid Venice, which is set within ancient palazzi and surrounded by quiet dreamy canals. I was surprised to find that the interior of the hotel was rather contemporary - but not in a lavish way. As I wandered to my room, exhausted already by the sheer beauty of this magical floating city, I found myself passing the hotel's dining room, complete with a welcoming, roaring log fire. Despite the time of year, every table was full, the Venetians inhaling bowls of sweet truffle pasta. In the corner, a pianist played a soothing melody while a group of elderly Italian women sang along. As my head hit the pillow, my mind filled with images of what was to come: men in striped shirts guiding gondolas down the icy cold waters, Italian coffee frothing and slurping from espresso machines in every café, and the grandeur of old palaces littered with antique carpets.
Watery wonderland
The following morning I overheard fellow breakfast diners talking about the floods in St Mark's Square. Desperate to see them for myself I galloped out of the hotel and walked the short five minutes to the centre of the city. I found myself a seat in the Café Florian, which has been there since 1720, and with a hot chocolate in hand (something Venice prides itself on in the winter) I whiled away coy hours watching the locals cross the raised walkways that had been erected due to the rain. You see for most people, St Mark's Square is the focal point for crowds, but that day it was completely covered in six inches of water. For some reason looking at it like this - a watery square within a watery city - I believe it is even more beautiful.
Next on my itinerary was Doge's Palace. I'd heard from many friends who had visited Venice before that the queues are horrendous, but in winter I found myself paying the €12 entrance fee and then having the place virtually to myself.
Filled with magnificent wood-panelled rooms and glorious paintings, the palace boasts a number of breathtaking staircases and chambers. The prisons of Doge's Palace were the one part I found truly fascinating - mainly because it was where the legendary Lothario, Casanova, spent his time before making one of the most extravagant escapes ever. Having climbed onto the prison roof, Casanova managed to slide down a drainpipe, slip inside the palace and then persuade someone to open the door, in order for him to then flee quietly on a gondola. But not, according to legend, without first enjoying a coffee in the Piazza San Marco.
A city to steal hearts
For the rest of the day - and most of the next - I wandered the breadth of the city, calmly ambling along while inhaling the smells of the waterways and watching locals in moleskin overcoats argue energetically over steaming bowls of pasta.
As the winter night folded in on me, the light of a tiny trattoria beckoned - a little pocket of heat against the damp. Welcomed into the buzzy Italian warmth, I sat in the window and watched as a gondola glided past, silent yet powerful in the canal. I could have sat there all evening, breathing in the scents of Venice while watching the watery silence outside.
Venice, without doubt, is a place to fall in love with. And my heart has well and truly been left there.
