I Clockwise from top left: Portrait of Doge Giovanni Mocenigo by Gentile Bellini (1429–1507) in the Museo Correr. A quiet canal in the Jewish Ghetto. View from the Bridge of Sighs: legend holds that from this bridge one could hear the sighs of the condemned as they were being led to prison. IN THE MORNING, VENICE WAS BLUE AGAIN, the Grand Canal buzzing with locals on vaporettos. Off to the Rialto Bridge – Venice’s oldest, circa 1590 – we dodged through Rialto market’s slew of hustling fishmongers, butchers and inescapable souvenir-hawkers, to find the Jewish Ghetto. The only place in Venice where Jews were allowed to live, they housed their growing population by adding storeys, creating the world’s first high-rises. Here, archives and artifacts at the synagogue and Jewish Museum gave historic insight to their lives. Leaving the Ghetto Cannaregio area along the sunny canal-side walkway, we passed cafés brimming with locals en route to the Gallerie dell’Accademia. Though still under renovation, it literally took our breath away with its exquisite collection of 14th to 18th century works detailing Venetian history, culture and society. Poignantly, we learned that many works by Carpaccio, Bellini, Tintoretto, Veronese, Titian and Tiepolo survived by being hidden during Napoleon’s occupation of Venice. As we wandered behind the Accademia, little wrought-iron bridges led us to Santa Croce, an area exuding authentic flavor: its bakery windows tucked with pastries and pastel macaroons; art studios full of original masks for Carnivale; and, at the gondola yard near San Pietro di Castello, artists sketching canvases. That evening, cocktails turned into dinner at our hotel’s charming canal-front Tiepolo Bar. Ken’s peach Bellini and my Venetian Spritz (a concoction of sparkling water and prosecco, mixed with Campari or Aperol) begged for cicchetti. The more we tried, the more we ate of the delectable, Venetian morsels of crisply fried calamari, zucchini flowers, and meatballs. At dawn the following day, Piazza San Marco beckoned a visit before tourists would invade to ogle the Basilica’s dazzling interior. Without the crowds, we relished Museo Correr’s meticulous restoration of the Imperial apartments once occupied by Austrian Princess Sissi. At the Doge’s Palazzo, the empty courtyard echoed our steps as we viewed statues of the San Marco Lion, and of Neptune and Mars, symbols of Venetian control over land and sea. The interior salons made us gasp at spectacular paintings by Veronese, Tintoretto, Titian, and Tiepolo. Wandering into a dim corridor, its stone walls chiseled with odd shaped windows that overlook the canal below and sea beyond, we realized we were inside the Bridge of Sighs. Built in 1614 to connect the palazzo to the prison, the name of the enclosed bridge reflects the sighs of prisoners who stole a last glimpse of freedom before descending to a cell or execution. Peeking out, I imagined the womanizing Casanova blowing kisses to weeping signore before succumbing to solitary confinement. Unlike the Latin lover, we were free as light to pursue our dreams, although Venice had most certainly captured our hearts – again. And then it was time to board our ship… 36 CRUISE HOLIDAYS STEFANO AMANTINI/4CORNERS; TOBY SALZMAN