Cross the causeway from Mestre into Venice, and your heart might freeze at the number of tourists thronging between the railway station and the Grand Canal.

But the crowd thins out surprisingly quickly, and here's how you can get away from it.

When leaving the railway or coach station on the island of Venice, walk neither to the right nor to the left.

Cross the nearest bridge over the Grand Canal, and keep walking away from where you arrived.

At the risk of sounding like a misanthrope while stating the obvious, people tend to follow other people.

Hemmed in by the Grand Canal, everyone swarms around Venezia Santa Lucia Railway Station, the Rialto Bridge, and the lane of souvenir shops and glass emporiums that runs across the station building (entry and exit to Venice being via its gift shop.)

Several “streets” back from the Grand Canal, the crowds thin out agreeably and there are plenty of Venice’s famous bàcari (small bars) and trattoria (casual restaurants) to sip some white wine or Aperol Spritz in the sunshine, mostly alone.

Visiting Venice the quiet way

On my second trip to Venice, aware of all the myths and following my own advice, I’m headed to Squero di San Trovaso, a boatyard that creates, fits, repairs these floating cities’ elegant gondolas.

It claims to be the oldest such place here, and is situated about as far away from the railway station as it’s possible to get without leaving the Island.

It’s a hot September afternoon. I’ve stashed my bag at a luggage drop, but my back is refusing to dry out.

Speaking of dry, there is a quiet little bàcaro near the boatyard called Bar El Borrachero.

It’s an unassuming spot on the Rio di San Trovaso canal on the way to the boatyard, and one of Venice’s quiet places.

Not many visitors stray this far back from the Grand Canal, so there are usually some spare seats available outside.

Thoughtfully, the managers have placed a few mats along the outside window, providing somewhere else for visitors to perch and natter.

While I’m drinking my beer, a dark-haired girl stops for a drink with her friends.

They are students of architecture, and they talk, laugh, and chain-smoke while their dog pines for affection from the strangers at the bar.

In a garrulous moment, I use her pet as an icebreaker. The dog’s name is Mila, and she has swum in all the Great Lakes.

Making a mental note that there are dogs living more adventurous lives than me, I vow to up my travel game.

How I avoid Venice’s crowds

Understanding what people come for is the easiest way to avoid being swept along with the crowds.

One of the main attractions of visiting Venice is to enjoy the unique cast of fellow tourists it attracts, like Mila and her owner.

Happy honeymooners, aspiring artists, historians, fashion gurus, writers, and backpackers all pass through.

And once you’ve watched enough people arrive here, you start to notice patterns:

1. People who have travelled from nearby
2. People who have travelled very far
3. People who set out with the aim of seeing the famous sights
4. People who prefer to wander around and take things as they come

These categories are entirely made up and not all mutually exclusive, yet broadly true enough to be helpful.

Visitors who have flown to Venice from different continents are likely seeking to pack out their stay by seeing as many of the major sights as possible. Places like St Mark’s Basilica, the Doge’s Palace, and the Peggy Guggenheim Collection.

So avoiding huge crowds of tourists becomes a simple matter of avoiding those places at busy times.

In my view, seeing such sights isn’t required to justify a trip to Venice.

The place itself is a sight to see, regardless of where you walk, look, and drink.

When someone asks me, “can you see Venice in a day?” I usually reply “yes,” because regardless of how you spend a day there, it’s impossible not to absorb its essential qualities.

That’s to say, it’s difficult to see nothing of immense architectural and historical value regardless of where you wander (a trait it shares with cultural cradles such as Lebanon).

Only, if you leave what to see to chance, you usually learn more about it once you are back home and can research it. For me, that’s half of the fun.

Gondolas, craftsmanship, and why walking is best

In this part of Europe in early autumn, it feels like the sun sets too early for how warm the days are.

At the boatyard, lines of gondolas have been taken out of the water. They lose all their sleek elegance on land, looking somehow diseased.

It seems a shame that such woodwork and craftsmanship is going unnoticed by so many visitors. But being tucked out of the way on a quiet corner keeps it reliably free of crowds.

I adore Venice, but I’ve never felt tempted by a gondola ride.

They can cost up to €100—often more—and they can’t take me anywhere I can’t reach on foot (except for the much cheaper ferries to the outer islands).

Not that I would discourage anyone from enjoying a ride in one if it was a bucket-list activity for them.

Besides, the quieter parts of Venice are best reached on foot.

Giudecca. A spacious promenade

Just beyond the shipping yard, Venice’s main island ends abruptly at the Canale della Giudecca—my favourite spot to escape the worst of the crowds.

It’s the broadest of the canals here, and it has a peculiar mixture of industrial necessity and architectural heritage.

It reminds me of the River Elbe as it passes through Hamburg, perhaps making it a perverse choice for “best place in Venice.”

But, as I’ve already mentioned, architecture, frescoes, and patina‑covered domes are everywhere. What I really like is this canal’s wide open promenade.

The gap over to Giudecca is too wide for a bridge with cornices—it would need a Brunel‑like suspension span instead.

Very few tourists drift down this far, so you can walk the promenade in real peace, without being jostled or hurried.

And like almost everyone, I find it hard to take my eyes off a broad sweep of open water; the airy Canale della Giudecca has nearly made me late for my train more than once.

I recommend that any Venice first‑timer take a slow walk from the station to this canal to see just how quiet the city becomes once you step off the beaten path.

Venice in September

September is a great time to visit Venice if you are averse to crowds and prefer to avoid other tourists.

For most travellers, holiday season is over, but the city itself is still open for the visitor trade. Plus, the weather at this time of year is fantastic.

The days are bright and sunny, and dazzling white cumulonimbus clouds tower above the canals and basilicas.

Venice isn’t too far from the Dolomites, and it’s these jagged mountains that cause the thunderheads to bank up as summer changes to autumn. They have an uncanny way of dumping their water elsewhere.

For similar reasons, May is probably also a great time to travel to Venice, providing the best combination of fair weather and empty spaces.

The middle of winter must be a fantastic time to admire Venice’s ample Gothic architecture.

Cold air has a particular way of stripping buildings back to their essential angles and outlines, while the artificial lights frame them in the most evocative ways.

And in winter, Venice is almost guaranteed to be as quiet as it ever gets.

When parts of the city are empty

By dusk, it’s eerily quiet along the narrow walkways beside Venice’s labyrinthine canal network.

Far fewer boats travel after dark, so the surface of the water is like glass, and the chop of bow waves slapping against bricks has ceased.

It’s the perfect time for photographs, and down some of the canals, you might feel like you have Venice entirely to yourself.