My friends told me Burano is a mesmerizing island close to Venice that deserved a visit. It is recognizable from afar. Indeed, the houses were all colored by their inhabitants so that they would identify them when they returned from the Venetian lagoon. Being a color fan, I immediately booked my ticket to the ferry that would bring me to that enchanted place.
We had only left a few minutes when huge, grey, and impressive clouds turned up. By the time we had reached the island, it was raining as if it would never stop. As if the sun wouldn’t appear again and let the homes shine bright as the diamonds they were.
I set my pride aside and bought a ridiculous Poncho and plastic boots whose crazy cost I still remember today. I thought: “Being the Belgian I am, the rain won’t hold me from discovering the place!” and dived into the treasure.
At first, I was upset because I felt the rain was spoiling the moment. But I realized that, on the contrary, it was offering the opportunity to uncover its vulnerable and touching side.
It was amazing to discover the isle’s true story. Its daily, unexpected, and uncertain reality while wandering in Burano’s narrow, charming, and wet streets.
I realized how hard it must have been for fishermen to return to their beloved ones when they got stuck in the water amidst dramatic waves, thunder, and a storm show.
When I later looked at the photographs I shot in Burano, such as “The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side”, I understood that the rain turned everything into magic and unforgettable moments.
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