I had no intention of writing anything about the coronavirus and its current effect on Venice, but a friend passed along a comment that pushed several buttons, so to speak, so here goes.
First, about the virus: Schools are closed for the second week, masses continue to not be celebrated in any churches, sporting events are either canceled or postponed to some vague not-far-but-not-near future. I have heard some references to the city being a “ghost town,” but that may be a bit exaggerated. True, late yesterday afternoon via Garibaldi was almost empty, as was the supermarket, but then again, it was cold, dark, and raining. I could hardly justify my being outside, much less wonder about anybody else.
This morning, warmer and sunnier, saw plenty of locals out and about, at least in our neighborhood. Obviously I can’t speak about the city as a whole, but by the same token, the “ghost town” person was most likely referring to the area that he or she frequents. There weren’t many children around, which is odd, considering that they’re not in school, but I presume the parents are keeping them inside. There seemed to be less boat traffic than usual out in the bacino of San Marco, but still, our morning promenade, which went as far as the Ponte dei Greci, took us past several places where workmen were toiling away. So I can’t say that everything has ground to a halt.
A noticeable number of restaurants and some bar/cafes are closed, but this didn’t strike me as exceptional — in fact, I might not have noticed it if we weren’t all mentally on red-alert status. The period between Carnival and Easter is always very quiet; it’s an ideal time for the owners to go on vacation, or undertake maintenance work, precisely because there are relatively few tourists. There being even fewer due to contagion concerns doesn’t mean that the virus has prostrated the city.
Yes, restaurateurs have been reported as wailing and gnashing their teeth about the drop in business. (An ordinance has imposed a three-foot distance between tables, which does make the atmosphere slightly less welcoming.) But merchants and restaurateurs are evidently born tearing their hair and yelling “Business is terrible!” I’m not saying that this is not a difficult period for them, it’s just a refrain that is so common, for one reason or another, that it has acquired echoes of wolf.
In any case, I think the ghost-town comparison may be felt more by non-residents who aren’t able to visit museums, or who see their favorite bar or pizzeria closed. Anyone who has ever come to Venice in late winter/early spring expects to find breathing room, whether it’s three feet in every direction or not.
About the buttons to which I referred in my opening statement (pushing of, effect of) — I will explain them in my next post.
4 Comments
Nice to have you back, Erla and thanks for the description of Venice under red alert. Stay well and safe.
It’s so good to have your rientro, Erla: sanity with wit; caring and care; deep background and the buzz of the moment; suspense about what’s coming in the next post… All the more important and a rare and blessed relief amidst scare stories and really fake news. Let’s hope that your new tech setup is all’altezza.
Brava, Erla for the Venice update.
The disastrous Australian bushfires did not manage to panic the stoic country folk, but coronaphobia is doing well in the cities here.
Re the stoups in churches: has holy water lost its efficacy? and what of Holy Communion and the Real Presence?
The thought about the holy water also occurred to me, but I refrained from putting the question in the caption because no point in needlessly stirring up emotions. I have to say that I don’t think that any faithful Christian believes that the water contains magic powers; it’s a reminder of baptism, and it’s totally optional. You probably know all this. Not necessary to get into theology beyond that point.