Gracie, Ciao! Ciao!

This past week, after very little planning and even less mental preparation, I journeyed to Italy and experienced one of the most incredible trips of my life. The decision to go to Venice and Florence for the week was a quick one. The few of us that went on the trip together packed our things Saturday afternoon and headed to Venice that night, filled with expectation and excitement and immense curiosity. After the 13 hour train trip overnight, complete with several early-morning border control stops through Slovenia and Croatia, we arrived to beautiful morning quiet and serenity of the Venice canals.

Our first morning in Venice was like a dream. The early morning mist and fog hung over the canals as an orange sun peeked behind tall, terra-cotta buildings with arched windows and split wooden docks afloat before them. Before the ever-present tourist bustle began, we wound our way through the maze-like streets and over tiny, picturesque bridges, past closed shop windows full of sparkling, vibrant Murano glass. In our short time spend in Venice, our first morning sticks out in my memory. I reveled in the quiet of the streets as shop-keepers unlocked their doors and wiped down café tables in preparation for the crowds to come. The grey coolness of Venice's empty streets and canals is a gorgeous sight.

After that one quiet morning, however, our time in Italy was filled with crowds and countless cameras, tour-groups and over-priced tickets. Don’t get me wrong, the trip was amazing as a whole. And yet, there were certain days when I felt like a cow in a herd of cattle—swept one way or another by those fellow tourists around me, gawking at the scenes and taking unnecessary pictures. The “touristy-ness” of Venice and Florence was a definite turn-off, an unfair remark to make as I, myself, added to those giant crowds and picture-takers.

Beyond my slight annoyance with the swarms of tourists, the trip was filled with mind-blowing art. On a day spent in Padua, a small city just a short train ride away from Venice, we had the amazing opportunity to see the Scrovegni Chapel. The simply-decorated exterior of this tiny church is deceiving. The plain red brick exterior gives no clue to the revolutionary art inside—frescoes by Giotto. The chapel is filled from top to bottom with Giotto’s masterpiece, chronicling the life, teachings, suffering, death and resurrection of Christ. Before Giotto’s work in this chapel, figures were painted as flat and one-dimensional, lacking movement or natural shape. The walls of Scrovegni, on the other hand, are filled with the work of Giotto’s masterful brush and revolutionary ideas. The figures are painted with correct perspective and beautifully textured clothing and hair, their faces wrought with all varieties of emotion. The chapel was vibrant and beautifully preserved—a true masterpiece.

Along with Giotto’s chapel in Padua, we had the incredible opportunity to see Michelangelo’s David on our last day in Italy. That giant, graceful, beautifully-crafted figure is an amazing accomplishment and a feast for the eyes. Never before have I seen such perfect grace in a statue, such smooth beauty and wonderfully complex emotion. The David was the perfect conclusion to this once-in-a-lifetime trip. A trip filled with intrigue, beauty, sunshine, history, laughter and joy.

...and, let's be perfectly honest-- a whole lot of gelato. Twice a day isn't a crime.

Here are just a few photos from the many (ahem...700) that I snapped on the trip: