In January, Venice goes quiet. The fog settles on the lagoon, the vaporetti run half empty, and the bridges, so crowded in summer, belong again to the people who cross them every day.
We walked for hours without a map, from the Rialto to the Arsenale, stopping in bars where the barman knew everyone's order. The city felt less like a postcard and more like a place.
Bring a good coat, book a room with a view of a small canal rather than the big one, and eat where the gondoliers eat. Venice in winter is not the city you think you know. It is better.
