The Grand Canal

On either side at the feet of the Ponte Rialto are landings where half-seen figures peer into the windows of shops or converse in the yellow lamplight of open air cafes. On the mirroring water their thin, wavering doubles mimic their gestures in flattery, or mockery. The scents of espresso, basil and pepper mingle with the primeval vapors of the canal. The lights streaming over the water from the bridge faintly gild faces, gondolas and the impenetrable, lace-like webs of the stonework and balconies.

Rialto Bridge is here.

Exits: