I never set out to visit Venice.

On a long series of trains through Croatia, Slovenia, and Trieste in northeast Italy, Venice was near my departure airport, Treviso.

It seemed a shame to miss it, so with an afternoon to spare I opportunistically doglegged to this iconic city that welcomes over ten million annual visitors, without expecting too much.

I was wholly unprepared and made many of the mistakes first-timers to Venice make.

I was, however, quite literally stunned when I emerged from Venezia Santa Lucia station—which has the same “been up all night” feeling as London Victoria—onto the placid flanks of the Grand Canal.

Utterly beguiled and convinced I could have an even better time by correcting past mistakes, I’ve learned how to enjoy Venice properly on return trips by watching other visitors.

Enjoy your first arrival. You can’t repeat it

A long causeway carries road and rail traffic from Venice Mestre on the mainland to Venice island.

Mestre is a comparatively gritty, dowdy district, which only heightens the shock of emerging onto the steps of the Grand Canal when you first arrive.

Trading lorries, trains, and tarmac for a fleet of water taxis bobbing around a city where roads have been replaced by water is truly surreal, especially if you’ve spent the day doing landlubber things like waiting at traffic lights and following road signs.

The railway station is too normal to prepare you. The shock only hits when you step through its glass doors.

The crowds outside the station can be overwhelming too, but everyone is doing the same thing—smiling.

Venice is a place that makes everyone smile, and the crowds are easy enough to get away from.

Appreciate this moment as you emerge from the station.

Second and third visits, if you’re fortunate enough to take them, don’t leave you nearly as speechless.

I leave my bags at a luggage drop

There are plenty of luggage drops in Venice, including at Santa Lucia station.

As I’ve already said, on my first visit I was on my way to catch a flight, which meant carrying all my luggage around Venice.

Sweating through crowds and heaving my suitcase over arched bridges and down narrow walkways was wearisome.

I also had to make sure I wasn’t clipping anyone’s ankles, which meant I wasn’t really looking at Venice at all.

Which is presumably why no one else carries luggage around Venice.

The cobbled lanes make a wheelie case behave as if it has a devious, trip‑spoiling mind of its own.

And don’t ask me why, but I’ve noticed that luggage ruins spontaneity.

Everyone becomes less likely to do entirely achievable, spontaneous things such as stepping into a bar or church when they’re carrying bags.

I suspect it has something to do with politeness and not wanting to look foolish.

Renting bag storage is as simple as downloading an app, paying a few euros for your allotted time, and opening the locker with a code on arrival.

Leaving your luggage in a locker means:

• You can visit Venice for a day and enjoy it
• You don’t need to return to your hotel to collect it later
• You have both hands free to navigate (or drink)

And you can do all of this without being distracted, slowed down, or rendered grumpy by the physical burden of carrying luggage.

I dress well to blend in

Italians dress well, and Venetians dress really well.

On my return visits, I’ve always set aside a snazzy shirt and smart cotton shorts to wear while walking around Venice.

That way I’m prepared for whatever establishment I fancy, and I look a little less like a bimbling tourist.

There are far too many visitors for Venice to be a snobby place, and nothing stops you wearing whatever you like.

But, as with going on a date to an upmarket cocktail bar, dressing up is what sets the evening apart from other evenings. The same goes for drinking from expensive crystal glasses or being serenaded by live music.

You’ll see plenty of fabulously healthy‑looking people wearing gorgeous outfits in Venice, and it’s surprisingly nice to look—and feel—as though you belong among them.

So I try to look the part and be the part, as much as my luggage allowance and onward plans allow, anyway.

And if I’m staying more than a day, I base myself in Mestre. It’s cheaper, unpretentious, and trains to Santa Lucia on Venice island run every few minutes.

Staying off the main island is a small trade‑off, but one that frees up money and headspace to dress specifically for Venice rather than carry all the bandoliers and saddles I need for a grand tour.

I get lost and travel without an itinerary

I’m not a Philistine, but old, famous paintings and buildings usually bounce off me. I appreciate them on merit, but I have a patchy grasp of history.

Primary school taught me that the progress of humanity went something like: Egyptians, Romans, Tudors, Stuarts, Now.

Filling in the gaps is an ongoing project that travel helps with.

With that in mind, I don’t worry about seeing every iconic cultural masterpiece in Venice—the Doge’s Palace, the Basilica, the Tintorettos, and so on. There are simply too many of them.

And I don’t stop to read every encyclopaedic plaque or learn the history behind every fresco like many other visitors.

Even when you’re just ambling around, the history and culture seep in.

And I’d argue they do so in a more permanent, integrated way than reading a plaque or pamphlet could ever facilitate.

When you’re people‑watching, you occasionally strike up interesting conversations, as I did with an architecture student and her dog, Mila, who had swum in all the Great Lakes.

As for the practicalities of finding your way back to the station or your hotel, I’ve found it doesn’t matter.

Venice is a labyrinth, not a maze. It eventually leads you somewhere.

Which brings me to the next thing I usually aim to do.

I avoid Venice’s crowds

There are many myths about Venice. One of the most enduring is that it's crowded, but this is too reductive to stand up to scrutiny.

Parts of Venice are crowded, some of the time.

Disclaimer: I’ve never visited in the height of summer, nor would I dream of doing so. But I do sacrifice longer visits for shorter ones during off‑peak times, such as September.

On these trips, I’ve never struggled to find quiet piazzas or bàcari with outdoor seating.

Venice is quieter still if you walk around in the early morning or late evening.

In short, it’s not hard to find a peaceful spot once you step off the main waterways. I simply try to walk at 90° to the direction of the crowd.

I stay near the water

This was something I did correctly on my first visit.

I wagered that if I spent my limited time in Venice sitting in a piazza out of sight of the water, I could be in any European city.

On subsequent visits, when I’ve had more time, I’ve relaxed this condition, and I’ll gladly take a meal anywhere that’s quiet and inviting.

But if I have less time, or just fancy a quiet drink while I people‑watch and outfit‑admire, I always choose somewhere near the water.

True, this puts a higher tariff on outdoor seating—I’m hardly the first person to have this idea.

Venice boasts so many micro‑bars and hidden side‑canals, however, that it’s impossible not to find somewhere.

My favourite haunt is Bar El Borrachero. The staff are friendly, and the place sells excellent snacks like arancini.

It’s also very close to the Canale della Giudecca—the “true north” on my compass whenever I go to Venice, as it usually gets me away from the crowds and serves up a new detour every time.

How to enjoy Venice

I’m in no position to generalise because I do not know everybody, but I suspect many travellers get worked up because of its reputation and high ranking among travel destinations.

The reality of Venice is that it’s small and quite unintimidating. In fact, it’s very easy to enjoy. Simply:

• Sit by the water
• Walk at odd angles
• Avoid trying to swallow the city whole
• Dress a little better than you need to
• Leave your bags behind

Less a destination to conquer, rather a place to simply enjoy being in.