I wore dreary shades of black and gray to one of the world’s most colorful locations, Burano.
Our vaporetto from Venice had every seat full, with some standing throughout the 40-minute ride across the lagoon.
Upon arriving, excitement to see what appeared to be a Wes Anderson film set seemed to be contagious amongst the flock of tourists. Influencers and their accompanying boyfriends didn’t waste time to begin posing in front of Polly Pocket pink homes, mermaid long hair and perfectly polished nails, hips swaying just enough to the right to appear candid.
“Buongiorno!” A young couple stammered. “Could you please take a photo of us on this bench, you see, exactly as our friends did in this one?” a young woman approached me, pointing to a photo on her iPhone of another young couple canoodling on a bench in front of a neon orange home. “We found the exact house! Can you believe it?” Not too mind blowing, I thought to myself, considering that Burano is a one-square- mile island with approximately 3,000 residents.
“What a small world!” I cheerfully smiled, snapping a series of photos.
Like Venice, Burano draws in thousands of visitors each year, enchanted by the fishing village’s vibrantly painted neighborhoods. Some say that families decided to paint their homes in shades of zesty orange, lemon yellow, cherry red and royal blue well before a numeral system was in place to identify properties. The legend I gravitate towards is the one about the lone fisherman, trying to find his way home in the darkest of nights, fog heavy across the murky lagoon.
According to the National Geographic, fishing moeche, or softshell crab, in Burano is a way of life, a tradition that has lived throughout generations dating back to the medieval times. The impacts of climate change and rising temperatures in the lagoon, coupled with businesses buying fish from other sources, has led to fewer moeche, and even fewer fishermen. Today Buranelli fishermen are promoting ecotourism, encouraging visitors do more than snapping a few selfies in front of a local’s home, and instead learn about life on the lagoon, from the tradition of capturing moeche to discovering the coral reefs beneath the surface of the Adriatic Sea.
As the crowd of tourists dispersed, we turned a corner to a quieter neighborhood, colored in what looked like a representation of the emerald lagoon, each home painted in shades of pistachio green and sapphire. An older woman hung garments on a clothing line to dry, eyeing us carefully as I squatted on the ground to photograph a neighborhood cat.
I hope to one day return to Burano, ideally staying the night to enjoy the village’s quieter moments. I wish to walk along the canal as the sun rises to catch the specks of sunlight upon its warmly colored homes and take the time to experience and learn about the unique way of life of the lagoon.
