✈️ Venice, beauty in autumn
- Núria Carballo
- Oct 22
- 7 min read
Updated: Oct 23
The calm before Venice
It never happens to me with any other destination. In airports I am usually practical: watch, suitcase and ticket. But when the flight is to Venice, as soon as you arrive, under revolutions. As if the body knew where it was going before the head. The tension disappears, the noise takes a back seat and I begin to breathe more slowly. I know that in a few hours I will be in that city where everything floats, where time moves to the rhythm of the water, my second home.
The flight with Vueling from Barcelona lasts just over an hour and 40 minutes, but to me it seems like a transit between two worlds: from noise to silence, from air to water, from haste to calm.
At eight in the morning, the air from Marco Polo airport smells of autumn and salt. The sea breeze welcomes you like an old friend.
The first vaporiser always has the same effect: a mixture of emotion and peace. On the horizon the domes can hardly be guessed through the mist. Breathe deeply... Venice, even before arriving, already gives you a wonderful view.
The arrival
The vaporiser moves slowly, as if it also knew that in Venice things are not done in a hurry.
There is no noise, no cars, no traffic. And suddenly, that feeling of being inside a painting becomes real: Venice breathes art and beauty effortlessly.
Every time I arrive the same thing happens to me: I feel that I don't travel to a place, but to an emotion. In autumn / winter, when there are fewer tourists and the rhythm returns to that of the Venetians, the city shows its most authentic version.
At half past eight in the morning, Venice is already awake but without noise. The gondoliers talk, the first delivery boats cross the canal, and the cafes begin to fill up with local people.
☕ The luxury of silence
This time I stay next to Piazza di Marco, in that area where everything beats with history and elegance. If I had to recommend three places to stay just a few steps away, they would be the Hotel Danieli, a Venetian classic with movie views; the La Fenice des Artistes, with its artistic and discreet atmosphere, or the Hotel Flora, that small refuge with an interior garden that preserves the soul of Italian hospitality. Different hotels, same code: tranquillity well understood.
As soon as I leave the suitcase, my first destination needs no introduction: Caffè Florian. Entering there is almost a ritual. Open since 1720, it is one of the oldest cafes in the world, and has witnessed centuries of history, artists, writers and travellers who, like me, sought refuge in its atmosphere. Draking the first cappuccino in the morning among its golden mirrors and frescos is a way of thanking the city for its existence. There is no place that better summarises the spirit of Venice.
📖 If you want to know more about this iconic place, I invite you to read my full article about Caffè Florian, one of my favourite addresses in the city.
From there, you can start walking aimlessly, getting lost in Venice is not an oversight: it is almost a way of getting to know it. The city is divided into six sestieri - San Marco, Dorsoduro, Cannaregio, Castello, San Polo and Santa Croce -, each with its own soul and character. Walking through them means crossing almost four hundred bridges, from the large ones of the Grand Canal to the most hidden between courtyards and alleys.
Only four bridges cross the Grand Canal: the Rialto, the dell'Accademia, the degli Scalzi and the della Costituzione, each with its own style and history. But it is the small ones that best define the city, such as the Ponte dei Pugni, in Dorsoduro, famous for the ancient fist fights that faced rival neighbourhoods. Walking through those bridges is travelling through centuries of history suspended between stone and water, a choreography of steps, echos and reflections that only Venice knows how to create and at this time of year that becomes a privilege. I walk towards the Ponte dell'Accademia, where the view of the Grand Canal is simply perfect...( Coming soon: The most emblematic bridges of Venice →) Further on, the Ponte di Rialto appears majestic, but without crowds. I can stop without pushing, observe the market waking up and listen to the local voices. Each corner has a story, each channel reflects a fragment of art.
Venice teaches you to look slowly, not to look for anything concrete, to let yourself be carried away by the sound of water and the aroma of coffee that comes out of the small pasticcerie. Here, every step is a memory under construction.
⛪ Fields, churches and little secrets
A curiosity that I always like to share: in all of Venice there is only one square, Piazza San Marco. Everything else - no matter how big or majestic it is - is called field. So are Campo San Polo, Campo Santo Stefano or Campo Santa Margherita, places where the voices of neighbours and children playing are still mixed.
And among those campi, lesser-known jewels arise that deserve to be stopped: the Chiesa di San Barnaba, remembered for its appearance in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, but also for its luminous calm and its discreet frescos; the Chiesa di San Zaccaria, whose crypt floods on days of high tide creating an almost sacred reflection; or the Santa Maria dei Miracoli, a small masterpiece of polychrome marbles, so perfect that it looks like a jewellery box hidden between channels.
And if you pass through the San Polo area, look for the fruit and vegetable boat that moor next to the canal: floating markets that remind you that Venice, despite its immutable beauty, is still alive and everyday. Details like this are what make each visit different, and that even losing yourself, you always end up finding something new.
(Coming soon: The most beautiful and unknown churches of Venice →)
🎨 Pure art
And here, art is not sought: it simply appears.
It appears on every facade, in every church, in the reflection of the water on the marbles, or in a painting that seems to look back. It is a city that cools the noise of the world to leave you alone in front of beauty, speechless, reduced to the essentials: enjoy it.
🍝 Where to eat in Venice
Eating well in Venice is not an exception, it is almost a rule. Unlike other very touristy cities, here most restaurants retain respect for tradition and local products. It doesn't matter if you choose a simple tavern or a more refined place: Venetian cuisine has that point of honesty that is noticeable in every dish.
One of my favourites is Il Buso, right next to the Ponte di Rialto. It is not a pretentious restaurant, but it has something special. The view is impressive - literally on the water - and the service, impeccable. Their Venetian noodles, with fresh seafood and the right touch of white wine, are among the best I have tried. And if you prefer meat, the manzo fillet with vegetables is an absolute success: juicy, well served and with that classic flavour that comforts. Here everything flows naturally, from the attention to the atmosphere. Sitting next to the canal, watching the gondolas pass and eating slowly is a simple and perfect luxury.
🎭 The Venetian winter: between tides and masks
Venice doesn't stop, not even when the water rises. During the months of November and December, the city lives its high water, those tides that flood the squares and force you to walk on wooden walkways. Far from being a problem, it is part of its character. Venetians continue with their routine, the cafes are still full, and there is something almost magical about seeing Basilica di San Marco reflected on the water.
At high tide, sitting down for a coffee with plastic boots on is one of the strangest and most endearing experiences I have ever lived: seeing how life goes on, elegant and calm, even when everything seems submerged. It's wonderful, as strange as it seems.
Christmas in Venice has a particular charm. The lights are reflected in the canals, the shop windows are dressed in gold, and the sound of the choirs in the churches adds an unexpected warmth to the cold of the lagoon. There are no stridencies, as if the city knew that it does not need ornaments to be beautiful.
And just when winter seems to calm down, February arrives with its most emblematic moment: the Venice Carnival. Streets, squares and palaces are filled with masks and costumes that seem to come out of another era. It is a visual and cultural spectacle that you have to live at least once in your life: a tribute to the mystery, art and that theatricality so typical of the city.
Venice changes with the seasons, but in none is it as authentic as in winter. Here the beauty does not go out: it simply becomes more intimate, more its own.
🌅 The sunset from Murano
As the afternoon goes down, I decide to take the vaporetto to Murano. Not for a practical reason, but for that desire to see Venice from the outside, to contemplate its silhouette while the day says goodbye. The journey is short, but enough for everything to change: the light, the air, the silence.
When the sun begins to descend, the tones of the sky are transformed. First golden, then amber, then a soft violet that seems to dissolve in the water. From the deck of the ship, seeing the skyline of Venice cut out against that background is an image that remains engraved in the memory. The domes, the bell towers, the old roofs... everything seems suspended between the sky and the lagoon, in perfect harmony.
The water reflects the last flashes of the day and the wind brings that unmistakeable smell of salt. The murmur of the vaporetto engine mixes with the distant croaping of a seagull. Nobody talks too much: it's as if everyone knew that this moment deserves silence.
Arriving in Murano at the end of the afternoon is almost poetic. The channels become mirrors that double the violet sky. Walking there gives you absolute tranquillity, with the coat tightly closed and the hands frozen, it has something hypnotic. It is a different Venice, more intimate, but with the same beauty that is not explained.
From here, Venice seems like a suspended dream, a promise. And I think that no matter how many times I come back: that sunset will always be different, but just as perfect.
🌙 Conclusion
There are places that do not need words, and Venice is one of them. Its beauty imposes silence and deep respect. The winter here reveals its truth, of closeness, of authenticity. There is no decoration, there is no excess: only the city and its people, living at their own pace, without pretensions.
I may have been born elsewhere, but Venice is my second home.
I chose it without hesitation, among a thousand possible destinations... although sometimes I believe that it was Venice that chose me.
— Viajes de Ella
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