From its shore you look directly over the water to the church and island of S.Giorgio Maggiore, which are beautiful from every point and at every hour, so happily do dome and white facade, red campanile and green roof, windowed houses and little white towers, compose.

But then, in Venice everything composes: an artist has but to paint what he sees.
From the Piazzetta's shore you look diagonally to the right to the Dogana and the vast Salute and all the masts in the Giudecca canal; diagonally to the left is the Lido with a mile of dancing water between us and it.
The shore of the Piazzetta, or more correctly the Molo, is of course the spot where the gondolas most do congregate, apparently inextricably wedged between the twisted trees of this marine forest, although when the time comes--that is, when the gondolier is at last secured--easily enough detached.

For there is a bewildering rule which seems to prevent the gondolier who hails you from being your oarsman, and if you think that the gondolier whom you hail is the one who is going to row you, you are greatly mistaken.

It is always another.

The wise traveller in Venice having chanced upon a good gondolier takes his name and number and makes further arrangements with him.