This article now serves as the introduction to my full Bylandersea America 250 series. Visit the official series hub here.
As America prepares to commemorate the 250th anniversary of its independence in 2026, I’m embarking on a journey of my own—a historical and travel-filled deep dive into the people, places, and pivotal events that shaped the American Revolution. Welcome to Bylandersea’s America 250 Blog Series.
History has always fascinated me, but I hold a special passion for the colonial era—the century leading up to the Revolution, the sparks of rebellion, and the heroic acts that birthed a nation. With this series, I’ll take you beyond the textbooks and bring you face-to-face with living history.
You can take a short vaporetto ride from bustling Venice to Burano, a nearby tiny island bursting with vibrant colors and a special kind of magic. Its candy-colored houses line sleepy canals where fishermen tend their boats, and lace curtains flutter in the breeze. I spent a half-day wandering its winding alleys, taking hundreds of photos, and soaking in the island’s artistic spirit and old-world character.
As my travel buddy and I approached, we saw Burano’s belltower dominating the skyline and colors radiating from every house and building on the island.
From the moment I stepped off the boat, Burano felt like a kaleidoscope—shades of tangerine, fuchsia, mint green, and cobalt blue reflecting in the canals. I’d call it a photographer’s delight. Legend says the fishermen painted their houses in vivid colors so they could find their way home through the fog. Whether myth or truth, every corner is a photo waiting to be taken.
Though Burano is small, just 52 acres, it carries a rich identity. Once known for its fishing economy, it became famous during the Renaissance for its delicate handmade lace, a tradition kept alive by the skilled women who still weave intricate patterns today. I popped into a few artisan shops, admiring the patience and precision required for every piece.
Then there’s the bell tower—Il Campanile di San Martino Vescovo. I’d first seen it 20 years ago, when I previously spent a few hours in Burano. But, now it was surrounded with scaffolding for needed repairs. The lean is so noticeably that you can spot the tilt from almost anywhere on the island. It stands next to the Church of San Martino, a modest 16th-century church dedicated to St. Martin, whose life is depicted in a large painting inside the nave.
Standing in front of the Belltower in 2005.
The tower was built between 1703 and 1714, constructed on unstable ground (as is common in the Venetian Lagoon). Like its more famous cousin in Pisa, the soft, marshy soil began to shift over time, causing the structure to lean. Though the tower rises about 174 feet, it’s the angle that captures your attention. By some estimates, it leans almost 6 feet off center—yet it still stands, previously anchored and reinforced to prevent further tilt.
The tower has weathered centuries of wind, tide, and time. It’s topped by a statue of the angel Gabriel, which—due to the lean—looks like it’s perpetually taking flight. Locals have come to see the tower’s slant not as a flaw, but as a beloved quirk. It’s a reminder that even imperfect things can be enduring.
I saw laundry hanging to dry, a school boy coming home, an old lady cleaning her door. I chatted with a few shopkeepers, bought a lace bookmark as a souvenir, and enjoyed a gelato while sitting on a quiet dock.
By the time we returned to Venice, golden hour was in full swing. The island’s colors deepened as if the island was lit from within. Visit Venice and her nearby islands at least one in your life.
Burano is just 40-45 minutes from Venice by vaporetto (water bus), and it’s perfect for a half- or full-day trip. Pair it with a stop in nearby Murano (famous for its glassmaking) or visit all three islands on a full-day outing, each with a distinctive identity.
Dubai dazzles the senses—soaring skyscrapers glinting in the sun, opulent hotels that rival palaces, and a desert culture embracing both innovation and tradition. When I traveled to the UAE back in 2013, I wrote an article for Luxe Beat Magazine (Dubai: Rising to New Heights) about Burj Khalifa, the tallest building. I was struck not only by the bold architecture and futuristic attractions, but by something far more basic: the humble date.
An image of Dubai from my hotel room, taken when I visited back in 2013.
In Dubai, dates are more than fruit—they’re a symbol of hospitality. Offered with Arabic coffee to guests, handed out at festivals, and sold as simple dried fruit, stuffed varieties, and chocolate-covered confections. Dates are rooted deep in Emirati heritage. Their natural sweetness and chewy texture lend themselves beautifully to baking, especially when balanced with rich chocolate.
Recently, I was nudged by a phenomenon that’s sweeping U.S. kitchens and candy aisles alike:Dubai chocolate.
