We got off the train and walked to the water’s edge. An older woman stood alone on the patterned stones, looking out across the canal while the everyday work of Venice went on behind her.

Looking toward the bridge marked L’Antico Ghetto di Venezia. This was the entrance to the world’s first Jewish ghetto, established by the Venetian Republic in 1516. The word “ghetto” itself comes from Venice — from the foundry (getto) that once stood on the site. For centuries Jewish residents were locked inside its gates at night, yet the district became one of the most culturally rich corners of the city.

We stepped aboard a water taxi and Julie led the way. For the first time on the whole trip I didn’t have to make a single decision — no maps, no choices, just following her and letting my mind stay free to soak up the beauty and take pictures. It was a glorious time.

One of the many old buildings rising straight out of the canal — Hotel San Cassiano, Ca’ Favretto, its weathered walls and flower boxes facing the water, ready to welcome visitors.

Everything is on the water here — including the police. A Polizia boat cut through the canal, its wake trailing behind while the rest of Venice floated calmly around it.

I got goosebumps when I saw it — the long black boat gliding past the arcades with the gondolier standing at the stern, the Rialto Bridge rising behind him. It looked exactly like every picture I had ever seen, only real.

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Then I spotted this one coming toward us, seats empty, looking for passengers. My heart beat faster as I knew it would be a fantastic picture, and I pushed the shutter button. The gondolier stood tall at the stern, the long black boat cutting cleanly through the water.

This is one of the greatest photographs of my entire life. I still get a rush every time I look at it. No passengers — just the gondolier and that long black boat coming straight toward the camera, inviting anyone who sees it to climb aboard.

I captured it from a moving boat going the opposite direction and only had a few seconds. The framing, the light, the composition… everything landed perfectly. I was so proud of myself then, and I still am. I love this photograph!

A line of gondolas tied up along the canal, their black hulls covered and waiting. The profession of gondolier goes back centuries in Venice — a tightly controlled trade, often passed from father to son, with only a limited number of licenses ever issued. These boats have carried people through the same waterways for generations.

A couple stands framed in the open window of an old Venetian house, watching the canal and soaking up the scene. I imagine the view from up there was incredible.

We got off the water taxi and started walking, and the first thing I saw was this passionate couple kissing in the middle of the plaza.

A single gondola moving slowly through the water, the long canal stretching ahead between the old palaces.

The great domed church of Santa Maria della Salute standing at the entrance to the Grand Canal. It was built in the 17th century as a votive offering after the plague of 1630, designed by Baldassare Longhena, and has watched over the water ever since.

I loved this moment when I captured these three running and playing in the streets.

A quiet stretch of canal lined with old buildings and moored boats, the Hotel American sign hanging above the water.

A narrow canal running between the old houses, boats tied along the edges. Venice’s canals were shaped over centuries — early settlers dug channels through the lagoon and drove thousands of wooden piles into the soft mud to create solid foundations for the city that still stands on them today.

A gondola loaded with passengers gliding past one of the grand old palaces on the canal.

Gondolas tied up at the edge of the water, black hulls and tall wooden poles disappearing into the fog. Quiet, waiting, the way they have for centuries when the work of the day is done.

The great church of Santa Maria della Salute stood across the water, its dome and towers catching the soft light. Gondolas rested at the poles in the foreground, completing one of the most recognizable views in all of Venice.

A solitary figure in a light coat and hat moved through the center of Piazza San Marco. Around him the pigeons scattered and the tourists drifted, but he walked as if the great square belonged only to him for that one moment.

The great open square of Venice stretched out in front of St. Mark’s Basilica. Pigeons and people filled the stones while a small child ran through the middle of it all, arms out, completely at home in the city’s most famous space.

A youngster in the middle of Piazza San Marco tried catching the pigeons. Tourists and locals mixed together while the birds claimed the square as their own.

A man crouched low taking photos of the pigeons while a woman vendor sold food right in the middle of the flock.

Another tourist stood among the pigeons, looking down at his camera while the birds walked around his feet. Everyone seemed to be photographing the same beautiful chaos.

I love this picture too. A crowded Venetian street funneled under the old stone arch, shop windows glowing on both sides while the stream of people moved in both directions. The city felt completely alive.

A waiter in a white jacket moved among the empty tables and chairs, getting everything ready for lunch. The square was already filling with people, and the outdoor café was preparing for its first customers of the afternoon.

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A gondola full of passengers slid through the narrow canal while people watched from the steps and the bridge above. The gondolier stood at the stern, steering them deeper into the quiet waterways of the city.

Another gondola made its way along the narrow waterway, the gondolier standing tall while his passengers sat low in the boat.

The old buildings leaned in close on both sides, the water reflecting everything. A few small boats rested in the still canal, the city pressed tight against the edges.

The view toward the open water of the Venetian Lagoon. Beyond the rooftops and the last of the buildings, the lagoon stretched out under a soft gray sky, the distant hill rising on the horizon.

Houses climbed the hillside across the water. This is the mainland beyond the Venetian Lagoon, the solid ground that sits opposite the floating city, dotted with homes and small boats at rest.

I couldn’t leave Venice without taking some color pictures. The same view of the Grand Canal and Santa Maria della Salute, now in soft evening light, the water turning blue and the dome glowing against the sky.

A gondola moved across the water in soft color, the passengers sitting low while the gondolier stood at the stern. The old buildings and blue poles lined the canal behind them.

I sat at the end of a pier and looked at this scene for at least twenty minutes. I tried some different filters and was so excited to see the dream-like quality of the slide film bring these scenes to life. The dome of Santa Maria della Salute glowed across the water under a soft evening sky.

A small restaurant glowed along the canal at night, strings of lights outlining the terrace while gondolas rested in the dark water below. Venice after dark felt quieter and more intimate.

Eating pizza in Venice was a dream come true. After a full day of wandering the canals I sat in a warm restaurant with the pizza in my hands and a big smile on my face.

A gondola moved through the dark canal, the gondolier standing at the stern while a couple sat low in the boat. The old buildings glowed softly along the water, and Venice at night felt even more magical.

Locals moved through the night on a different kind of boat, not made for tourists. Their small green craft cut across the dark water while the lights of the buildings reflected in long streaks behind them.

A much nicer private boat moved through the night, a clear step up from the little green one. Its clean white hull cut across the dark water while the lights of the buildings slipped past on both sides.

The lights from the old palaces poured onto the water, turning the surface of the canal into a long, shimmering mirror. It was quiet and beautiful, the kind of scene that made the whole day feel complete.

I used a star filter to capture this scene and this bridge. The lights along the canal flared into long points while the dark shape of the bridge arched over the water, turning the night into something almost otherworldly.

The last picture from Venice and the magical day. The Rialto Bridge glowed across the Grand Canal at night, its arches and lights reflected in the dark water. The most famous bridge in the city, and a perfect final frame!