The Nomadic Mermaid: Be Careful Where You Step, This is Venice...

Ah, Venice. You strange city with your odd smells and entrancing portals and streets to nowhere. Be careful where you step, or you may end up in water. In my case, the flooding (also called aqua alta) started the day I left, so stepping in water was inevitable.

But the views are extraordinary. It is like nothing you have ever seen and everything you have ever imagined. People call it a fairy tale, but even that is not completely accurate. You know when you wake up from a dream and it takes you a few minutes to figure out whether or not you are dreaming? It definitely feels like a real place, but I am still spinning now from my three short days there trying to grasp exactly how I feel about mysterious Venezia.

I arrived fresh off the train from Bologna into maybe one of the most stunning views. When you arrive in Venice by train, there is no walking through an ugly part of town to get to the good part...you are just there! I had drawn myself a good map to guide my way to my hotel with the recognition that I would very probably, most likely, get lost. I also had an official city map which is not of great comfort to anyone who has ever been there. The maps of Venice have no straight lines or grids like Americans value so much in an ideal city. Instead, it has big streets cut off in the middle by water, then making way to smaller streets, and covered portals. In Venice, there are not really roads or streets, they instead have "calles," "piscinas," "rio teras," and "fondamentas." All are unique to Venice because of the presence of water. I basically had to re-wire my brain to understand the city structure, and there also appeared to be no house numbers on any buildings. Lovely bridges would start on one side of the canal and end into the side of a wall.

Surprisingly enough, I did not get lost finding my hotel. It was located near the Ponte Rialto bridge, a very historically significant and important bridge, but also boasts the Rialto market today which has been running for almost a thousands years (older than the current bridge itself). It is a fantastic place to see locals in action, bargaining over beautiful fresh seafood and fruits. My hotel room was small, but with an awesome added bonus. I was at the top of the building (five flights of stairs), but I had the rooftop view where I could see the San Marco Square with no crowds (only pigeons).

San Marco Square is beautiful by all means, but it is flooded (no pun intended) with tourists, and more noticeably so than other Italian cities, although I am not sure why. That is why I opted to tour the Jewish Ghetto located in the Cannaregio neighborhood and enjoy the restaurants of the quieter and more enjoyable San Polo.

Seven hundred Jews were forced to move to an abandoned foundry that formerly produced cannons in the 1500s in Venice to make up the world's first ghetto. The Venetian dialect of the word "geto" means foundry. At the time of the forced move, the city decreed that Jews be confined from dusk to dawn and were only permitted to have defined, particular occupations approved by the government. The community grew to over 5,000 inhabitants, causing for them to start building upwards on their buildings (today, the ghetto has the tallest homes in the city). Two and a half centuries later, Napoleon took the gates to the ghetto down and Jews were able to disperse throughout the city and the world freely. During the Holocaust, 247 Venetian Jews were shipped away to camps and only eight returned.

I was able to tour the Jewish museum and two of the five synagogues. I could not fathom how 5,000 Jews successfully lived, worked, played, and worshiped in such a small area. It took a mere five minutes to walk from edge to edge of the ghetto. The synagogues were beautifully ornate and wonderfully intact and the kosher bakeries boasted the best pastries in town (and I believed them, they tasted incredible).

My favorite meal was located in San Polo across the Ponte Rialto at a place that Anthony Bourdain visited when in Venice. It looked like a local joint from the minute I walked through the door, so I knew I was at the right place. It had a different feel though. I felt like I was sitting in a family's kitchen chatting about life and every day events with my waitress and the locals at the bar. The vino della casa is always a safe bet in Italy. Think about it...our best wines in the world come from these delicate regions of Italy that are experts on making wine.

I decided to be daring on my last night in Venice and go for the "cuttlefish spaghetti in black sauce." Look it up. Warning though, you may be slightly disturbed. Out came the dish from the kitchen and the restaurant just stared at me as I took my first bite. It was salty, fresh, and obviously smelled like sea food. I smiled after my first bite, black on my teeth, and everyone laughed and cheered with me, celebrating in my meal. Although I may never order the dish again, I was glad I tried it.

A tour group walked into the restaurant to order some cheap wine (hey, that was my idea!) and I found out they were on a pub crawl. The tour guide asked me why on earth I had ordered my dish and I told him that Anthony Bourdain had eaten here and had the cuttlefish as well. He said that they were on a Rick Steves tour, and my excitement grew. I told him that Rick Steves videos had taught me how to properly pack a bag and take the train. Moments later, the tour guide introduced me to Rick Steves' son who he had met in transit with the group, and I went on with them to their next pub crawl.

After that, I made my way back to my hotel, but as it was still early in the night, I stopped into an Irish pub nearby. I met people from all over, and was shocked to meet people from close to my home town (Smyrna, Georgia). After drinking plenty of Strongbows and having conversations about politics like real Georgians, I headed to my hotel to enjoy my gorgeous views from my own personal terrace. Sure, traveling is lonely, but with friends on the road and a view from a train window, I can make it work. Solitude is something I've always feared, but it turns out it is peaceful, profound, and often revealing. It has become my friend, and I am learning to not only deal with it, but invite it in and make it welcome as a part of my life.