If an inquisitive and clever eleven year old were to design and build a perfect village/island, they would come up with Burano, an island in the Venetian Lagoon, about 45 minutes ride on the vaporetto from Venice. It’s small population is mostly retirees now, though once it was a bustling fishing centre – thankfully just a bit too off the well beaten track to lure more than a few travellers, artists and folks with a more exploratory nature.
I was not prepared when I arrived. But then, I don’t think I ever am when I arrive anywhere I have never imagined, where every time I turn around I ooh and gurgle over nearly everything I see and touch. And I wander about getting slightly lost, peering through windows and around corners and into open doorways. I can’t help it.
I wonder what it will be like when I go back, when I know what to expect. Will it be the same – or will the magic be gone?