Guide to exploring and staying in Venice.

Among those cities that first appear in your dreams before you even arrive there is Venice. Somehow, you expect to hear an operatic aria floating from a small piazza, masks in store windows alluding to centuries-old mysteries, and gondolas gently gliding along dreamlike canals. Naturally, the truth is a little different. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, though; Venice remains absolutely, hilariously beautiful.

To start with, the canals. Everyone discusses the canals. They are lovely, much like a postcard. Not that you'd want to, you cannot get away from them. Walking around Venice feels a little like meandering inside a watercolour map. Every angle gives a fresh perspective meant to give your Instagram feed a sophisticated feel, even if your pictures aren't. And then there's the gondola, Venice's most recognisable means of transportation. Riding one seems romantic until you recall that it costs about the same as a compact car and is mostly driven by your capacity to sit still while someone else toils quite hard. Still, it counts for something to be able to tell others you have been in a gondola in Venice.

The trip also includes visitors. Among those of us who spend half of their vacation in lines, wondering why everyone else also believed now was the ideal time to visit St. Mark's Basilica, there is an unsaid friendship. You begin to understand the residents, who, every day, negotiate the same busy lanes with politeness, exhausted expressions that would shame actors. But still, Venice feels small even with all the tourists. Some way, the small lanes and secret nooks of the city let you picture you've found a secret only you and the pigeons know about.

Food should be mentioned as there is no better way to develop character than to listen to an accordion while eating pricey seafood. Though little dishes of fried morsels are perfect for skipping actual meals while posing as sophisticated, Venetian cuisine goes beyond only cicchetti. Let's be honest, Venice can teach anyone who believed they could eat pasta without breaking the bank or feeling somewhat sticky from going across damp streets all day a lesson in humility.

Then comes the moment of introspection. Probably because being on a small bridge across a canal with a thousand other people reminds you that you, too, are temporary and that it's OK to enjoy a little show, Venice has a way of making you reflect on yourself and your life decisions. It is a city simultaneously a museum, a love book, and a logistical catastrophe.

At last, going to Venice is a lesson in regulated anarchy. You'll get lost. You will shell out too much for coffee. You will find beauty in a somewhat unpleasant and highly human way. And when you leave, you'll most likely tell people it was magical since it was, even if just because it made you face the absurdity of loving a city that seems set to devour you entire while yet holding out a little, shining hope of wonder.