Clockwise from bottom left: An artisan creates a traditional Venetian carnival mask. Sparkling Murano glassware. View at dawn from the Accademia Bridge: Santa Maria della Salute and the Grand Canal. The Peggy Guggenheim Collection is one of Europe’s premier modern art museums. The winged lion has long been a traditional symbol of Venice. 34 CRUISE HOLIDAYS MODD / SHUTTERSTOCK; SERGEY SKLEZNEV / SHUTTERSTOCK; MAURIZIO RELLINI/SIME/4CORNERS; STEFANO AMANTINI/4CORNERS I IN THE MISTY DAWN, Venice masquerades. It becomes a place of ethereal beauty where islands seem to levitate over translucent seas, a place of serene inspiration. From our terrace at the Westin Europa & Regina Hotel, overlooking the lagoon entrance to the Venetian archipelago under the rising sun, we see Venice anew. Mosaic domes glitter, refracting rainbow halos, the façade of the Doge’s Palace wafts from cream to crimson, and the gilded globe and Statue of Fortune, capping the 15th century Dogana da Mar (customs house), shines like a beacon. By now, we’ve come to see Venice as a virtual kaleidoscope, changing hues with the moving sun, shifting personalities in places and times of day, tranquil here, frenetic there. At this glorious moment, I said: “No wonder they call Venice La Serenissima – serene one”. Venice was far from serene on the afternoon we arrived, its Piazza San Marco typically full with travelers feeding pigeons and jostling to enter the Basilica and Campanile tower. Tugging my husband Ken’s hand, I said, “Why fight frenzy when we can surrender to la dolce vita? Forget lists. In Venice, it’s not how much you see, it’s how you see it.” That instant, we gave our hearts and minds to Venice, trusting her intrinsic charm to lead us. Meandering through the right bank, following shady narrow streets and bridges curving over canals, we arrived at a sunny campo, fringed with gleaming stone buildings. Musical notes of Verdi’s La Traviata enticed a peek at the square’s gilded balconies painted with angels. The scent of espresso led us to a café and as we lingered over a fragrant brew and crunchy macaroons, we noticed couples stopping to kiss near a stone dragon. When I asked the barista why, she replied, “It symbolizes our patron saint for pregnant mothers. Venice seduces couples to kiss.” Sweet as it seemed, I saved my kisses for elsewhere. Sensual to its core, Venice was built on love and lust of conquests. Long before Casanova seduced the beautiful signore, Venice flaunted victories by scattering images of the Venetian lion on the stone ramparts and towers of key cities bordering the Adriatic Sea and beyond. From the 5th century to the 15th, Venice had grown from one islet to 118 laced by bridges. It gained formidable power as headquarters of the Republic of Venice. Its influential Doges ruled the Dalmatian Coast and Constantinople (now Istanbul) from a seaside palazzo that incorporated the domain’s noble residence, Senate, Justice Courts and prison. Its Grand Canal showcased a parade of lavish palazzi owned by nobility and commercial magnates who adorned the façades with a mélange of architectural details – from Roman, Greek, Byzantine, Rococo, Baroque and Romantic to Renaissance, often adding whimsical sculptures of faces or gargoyles, leaving a legacy of Venetian style. Over time, Venice’s maritime power faded. Turks captured Constantinople. America’s discovery diverted trade routes. Napoleon occupied Venice in 1797, and then