"Venice is magic, the loveliest city in the world, because it has entirely displaced its islands with palaces and villas and churches. It is man-made, but a work of genius, sparkling in its own lagoon, floating on its dreamy reflection, with the shapliest bridges and the last perfect skyline on earth: just domes and spires and tiled roofs. It is one colour, the mellowest stone. There is no sign of land, no earth at all, only water traffic and canals. Everyone knows this, and yet no one is prepared for it, and so the enchantment is overwhelming. The fear you feel is the fear of being bewitched and helpless. Its visitors gape at it, speechless with admiration, hardly believing such splendour can shine forth from such slimy stones.
Language cannot do justice to Venice and nothing can detract from its beauty. It floods regularly; its marble is damaged and decayed, its paintings rot, it has stinking corners...
...Even the fact that Venice is sinking, and might one day be destroyed if not disappear altogether, gives it an air of fragility and drama, a passionate mortality."
Paul Theroux, The Pillars Of Hercules
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