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I am stuck at electricity supply and snapping my impressions. Rats, which weren’t seen or heard by me, are running in the narrow streets somewhere beyond the window. And the tired tourists are returning to their hotels. It’s night. The town rests from the uproars.

I’ve been here just for a couple of days. A day after tomorrow we are flying back to Berlin. I don’t feel any ahs or wows. It seems that I’ve already knew everything (perhaps from “Tomb Raider 2“), and it is as it has to be.

I am completely relaxed and devoted to the rest. It is said in Buddhism, which I haven’t read any book about, that it is good to dive into absolute emptiness and to clear your brain from thoughts. Nirvana. I am in such a state pretty often, especially after work, especially during holidays, and while playing stupid logical games. But I don’t want to overstay in that state.

When I turn on my brain, I see the differences between all I have imagined before and the reality.

Venice is not a continental part of Italy. It is laid in a few islands, where the main of them is achievable by the bridges for cars and trains and the others are achievable by ships. The prices in Venice are lower than in Paris and the number of tourists in a square meter equals to the number of tourists in Lithuanian sea-resort Palanga at eight PM in the summertime. Venice is flat: all the streets are in a similar height (one-to-two meters above the water level). What about the spirit of the town? There are many churches. The are many artists. The is much art. But everything is in the shade of commerce. Buy buy buy !

Anyway, it is obvious to me, that all has to be so.

Tourists are the main source of the subsistence for Venetian. Around every corner there’re stripy rowers suggesting you to be rowed around in a “gold-plated” gondola (you can be rowed for less than an hour in Venice for the same price as to fly from the “Lithuanian capital” Riga to Berlin… And back). Souvenir shops in every street are offering traditional fearfully mystical masks (like from the last movie of Kubrick “Eyes Wide Shut” about the orgies of elite. And the black men are selling illegally Dolce Gabbana, Louis Vuitton, and Chanel bags for a few tens of Euro just from plastic sacks for rubbish.

However, it is said, that the town magnetizes artists from different countries to live and create here… And also suicides to finish their unlucky lives. Something attractive is here. Brick-built houses are glued to each other. Windows have blinding doors. Very often there are terraces on the roofs. Narrow streets, channels and small bridges are everywhere. Laundry hang on ropes just next to the windows. There are many stone lions. San Marco square is full of spoilt pigeons. Water-taps protrude just from the ground. Floods and refluxes influence the moods of people. There are no cars — just boats and ships.

You turn out from the crowd, prop against the wall at a channel. The water shimmers and swings the locked motor-boats. The sun is going down. It’s not as hot as it was before. It’s calm. You eat the Italian pancake rolled with a filling (I don’t even know how it is called) and are feeling good about this day.

It’s nice here. Some day in the future we will come here back. And now I am going to bed under the curtain against mosquitoes.