Burano

Just 40 minutes off the coast of Venice is Burano, a smaller town with less canals, and shorter, more colorful homes. Here, you can quietly have a drink along the small docks, feet dangling over the edge. In the crowded alleyways of Venice, it’s hard to truly realize how surrounded you are by water. But from Burano it’s far more evident. 

The town is gorgeous, painted entirely in jewel tones with striped drapes and colorful flowers.

The entire population must have been born with innate color theory and effortlessly planned their homes accordingly.

We settled into a small restaurant with canal-side seating, and ate amazingly fresh seafood as out waiter yelled to a fisherman riding past us in the small canal. 

Absolutely stuffed and adequately drunk, we had to run to make our once-an-hour ferry. It was a small commuter boat with florescent lights and stained windows. It reminded me of the grimy Alice Austen, the late night boat of the Staten Island Ferry. It made me home sick for something that I used to dread.