No stones are so trite as those of Venice, that is, precisely, so well worn. It has been part museum, part amusement park, living off the entrance fees of tourists, ever since the early eighteenth century, when its former sources of revenue ran dry. Mary McCarthy, Venice Observed
Our apartment in Venice, like the others on this trip, is attractive, comfortable, and quiet. The building is old but renovated inside. It has its oddities; so many lights and light switches (6 in the bathroom alone, plus a switch/dial thingy we haven't figured out) yet it's sort of dark even with all the lights turned on. The windows are small but that reflects the design standards when the building was first constructed. I know from reading Donna Leon books that in Venice you can't modernize the exterior of a building.
The apartment fronts a small plaza with a statue and a cafe. On one side is a busy, touristy street, but the other side is not touristy at all. We usually go the non touristy way. You can get to the same places, it just takes a little longer. We often walk to the water, with its views of Cimiterio di San Michele and, further away, Murano, then walk towards the hospital, passing a series of boat slips, a few vaporetto stops, and a few cafes, then we head south and cut into the island. The hospital has a dock for boat ambulances, barriers they can drop for privacy when they transfer a patient from boat to emergency, and a long row of bright yellow ambulance boats. It's just like on land, yet it's not.
