Eight hours, too much bad food and worse air later, she landed in Venice. She knew there was a water bus she could take to the city and walked the five hundred metres to the dock.
The Alilaguna blu from the airport to the Arsenale stop made a trip out to the Lido before swinging back to Venice. Sarah stood on the rail as the fabulous coastline grew larger. Even close it remained a fantasy, a fairy-tale, wedding-cake confection. A mist hung over the city. The image of a painting drifted into her mind. Venice from the Lagoon: Turner, impressionist before the Impressionists.
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