Gliding into Venice

It is a moment of pleasant surprise, several hours later, to look up from my book and to see from the train window that we are surrounded by water on all sides. The train is gliding into Venice along a raised runway, funnelled on either side by a series of naked teepees, each one comprising three solid tree trunks. I can imagine, if they still had their branches and canopies, it would look like there was a city underneath the surface of the water.

Indeed, it looks and feels at first like I imagine a flood would. Floods disorientate: they transform the urban environment, every inch of it up to your front door. Like floods, the lagoons and canals of Venice form a surreal and never-ending environment.

But the Venetians are water-borne beings, and have claimed the canals as their own. Front doors open directly onto the canal, but unlike stepping out directly onto a busy road, the comfort zone seems to spill out the front door and with them onto the water.