Bridge Ninety-Eight - Ponte de l'Anconeta

While walking alongside the still waters of the Rio della Maddalena we passed a well-lit restaurant filled with socialising patrons. The atmosphere, which moments before had been quiet and solemn, changed instantly to gay and exuberant. The sounds of laughter, patrons chattering, and the clinking of glasses and plates floated across the canal which was lit with reflections from sidewalk lights. It was a pretty scene, and for a moment we speculated about sitting down for a quick snack. But tiredness was taking its toll on both of us, and so we moved along to the Ponte de l'Anconeta, our third last bridge.

We'd hardly left the bright, convivial restaurant scene when once again we were enveloped in a dark ghostliness with hardly a soul around. It might have been the cold, or perhaps the ghost of a long-forgotten Venetian soul still restlessly wandering the city, but we walked on in a hurry, the end now plainly in sight.

Bridge Ninety-Seven - Ponte Correr

For many visitors, the evenings are the best time to be in Venice. The cacophony of daytime makes way for a gentle quietness with only the most delicate sounds audible - a far-off vaporetto, the lapping of water on a canal side, or footsteps in a nearby alley.

This was the atmosphere when we crossed the small Ponte Correr, a bridge that carries the name of one of the most illustrious families in Venice, after which the museum bordering one side of the Piazza San Marco is also named. The quietness all around was tangible, and the bridge's white steps were bathed in an eerie light that strongly contrasted against the dark water of the canal. The change in ambience between day and night we had witnessed was truly remarkable.

Bridge Ninety-Six - Ponte Pasqualigo

Retracing our steps, we once again joined the main route to the Santa Lucia station at the Ponte Pasqualigo, bridge number ninety-six.

It's a stone bridge with broad steps, named after the last naval commander of the independent republic of Venice before it was conquered by Napoleon and subsequently ruled by Austria. It usually carries a dense stream of people, but at this hour it was relatively quiet with only a few passers-by moving along hurriedly - most probably the last of the day's commuters going home by train. It was now almost half-past eight in the evening, and most of the street lights were on and shop windows lit, even though the sky was still a powdery blue.

I had to start doing tricks with the camera to compensate for the almost total darkness, stretching exposure times and pushing the camera's settings to their limits. We'd better finish soon, or I'll be stuck with pitch-black photos!