[quoteicon author=”Telegraph”] See on www.telegraph.co.uk
Treviso is the no-frills gateway to Venice. Every year, tourists in their thousands come streaming off the plane and on to the shuttle buses. But Treviso is not just an airport. Two miles down the road from the terminal is a historic town with a beguiling charm all its own: Renaissance squares, palaces, richly frescoed churches, streets threaded with ancient waterways.
It’s not another Venice, of course; Treviso has no Grand Canal or San Marco. It also has no camera-clicking crowds, no tourist traps, no crazy prices, no stress.
The centre of Treviso is a little walled city, with medieval gates, narrow, cobbled streets of arcaded rose-red brick and stone that twist and turn like dried-out water courses – which is what some of them originally were. Tiny canals run past handkerchief-sized gardens, glide beneath houses, appear at street corners. Gushing millstreams, some with black water-wheels that once had a commercial purpose, now turn lazily, playing a purely decorative role.
Dante described Treviso as “the place where the Sile and the Cagnan go hand in hand” – not one of his most compelling phrases, perhaps, but accurately observed: the two rivers come together to circle the town, their waters running side by side. Stand on the serene bank of the Riviera Garibaldi and you see the two streams not yet commingled: the Sile sleek and calm, alongside the Cagnan’s more turbulent flow. See on www.telegraph.co.uk [/quoteicon]