I’ve been trying for a month to find some way to write a deep and detailed update on life here these days, but I give up. What follows is the best I can do.
After a year of the virus, and its varying grip on Italy’s 20 regions and 80-some provinces, all I can say is that we are not yet out of the proverbial woods, even though vaccinations have begun. There is an “English variant” now on the scene that has upset everybody’s predictions on progress. Even without this interloper, the danger of assembramenti (gatherings of people) remains paramount, though large numbers of people I see walking around seem not to be concerned. Exhibit A: Mask worn beneath the nose. Exhibit B: Mask around neck. Any time that the restrictions on gatherings are moderately lifted, the campos and fondamente clog up again with bright sparks, glasses in hand, masks lowered or even removed. And so the restrictions clamp down again. It’s like Groundhog Day.
The year has been entirely color-coded, as Italy has struggled to maintain control of the contagion (and its social, economic, and medical consequences) by applying restrictions according to their level of contagion: Yellow is the least dangerous, Orange is the middle ground, Red is obviously the most dangerous (and at least one doomed region was labeled Dark Red for a while — I think that may have meant something like bomb-shelter-type quarantine).
But the restrictions kept changing, reacting to the bettering or worsening of the epidemic’s numbers. We have spun through variations of life involving the hours that shops/bars/restaurants could be open (restaurants closing at 6:00 PM was obviously problematic, though takeout was the stopgap solution), to the number of persons permitted to enter a shop (from one to as many as six), to whether you would even be allowed to enter at all. Oh — and sitting at tables inside was obviously risky, and sitting at tables outside not much less risky, so as recently as last week you bought your coffee at the cafe’ doorway and stood there drinking it al fresco. Except you weren’t supposed to be standing — assembramenti! — so you had to keep moving to avoid the potentially contagious assembramenti (gatherings of people), so you wandered away with your little paper cup, sipping the rapidly cooling teaspoons of espresso, looking for a trash bin. I gave up coffee abroad because the always-dependable cafe bathrooms were no longer available.
Permission to travel between towns, provinces, and Regions continued to mutate. Schools open, schools closed. Public transport restricts the number of passengers permitted during “rush” hour (“Six people can board,” I heard the marinaio call out as we left the vaporetto), but at other times there have been vaporettos that were completely empty. Except for us, I mean. Not made up.
Some museums are beginning to reopen, though obviously with fewer visitors because cross-border travel is still generally forbidden. Venetians (or Italians) who’d like to see some of their artistic patrimony without scrimmaging through masses of tourists, this is your big chance. Most of the museums are open only Monday through Friday; the Guggenheim and Palazzo Grassi only on Thursday and Friday.
Today is Mardi Gras, but this year’s Carnival has been almost entirely online — that is, whatever remnants of the Old Celebrations they managed to retain. We did see some tourists (mainly from the Veneto) over the past few days, on and off, some of them in costume. But I can confirm that seeing a few random dressed-up people does not a Carnival make, especially when they are walking along streets in the late afternoon, where the few businesses that were open are beginning to close. Curfew for bars and restaurants is 1800 (6:00 PM) and slightly later for other enterprises. Supermarkets are open till as late as 8:30 PM.
The last weekend of Carnival did have its brighter moments, especially Sunday when the sun and the tourists combined to bring a whiff of normalcy to the city.
We went out for a late-afternoon walk today; there was very modest activity in via Garibaldi. Carnival barely touched the city as it drifted past, unable to land. As always, it was the children who made it happy.
15 Comments
Dear Pal, I’m so grateful for the gentle and perceptive update. Sorry the tourists are missing Carnival. Bet the locals are sad too, even though the tourists aren’t always nice, alas.
Hey! How about a summary of the weirdest tourist remarks you and Lino have heard?
I’m happy you liked my scattershot update. I can’t recall the weirdest remarks, they were made too long ago. Also, to be honest, it’s not so easy to overhear remarks unless I’m stalking someone. Weird behavior is easier to spot, of course, but there again, it’s been too long and memories fade.
Thanks for the wonderful update Erla. Even with all the difficulties, so happy to hear from you and know you are both well. Stay safe and well, cari amici.xxx
Cara Erla,
I believe that first lion is in Zanipoli, no?
I do love these reports from your changed world to our changed
world. And it would seem that the upside of being able to row on
the Canale Grande, while not counterbalancing the economic woes
of an empty city, is nevertheless a rare source of pleasure.
Wonderful words and pictures…but that is no surprise to one of your
most devoted fans.
Good catch. Yes indeed, the first lion is in the basilica of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, on the Valier monument (Andrea Tirali, 1708) that forms the facade/entryway into the chapel of the Madonna della Pace. The leaping lion is part of a scene commemorating the Venetian naval victory (1656) in the Battle of the Dardanelles. But you know all this… Glad you liked the glimpse of our boating life. I think everybody is drawing every ounce of pleasure from it as long as we can.
And the second lion is in Campiello del Remer (the one opposite the Rialto Mercato stop where Taverna al Remer is situated).
As always wonderful images and information to keep my desire to return almost satisfied. Many thanks
Thank you, Erla. Our lives drag on in similar ways. Fools who don’t wear masks and those caring people who do.
Seeing the sad lions bespeaks of my feelings to a tee!
We keep saying this too shall pass….just not soon enough.
Love this! Thank you so much. You’re right about the kids. But the water movement is so great. Your report gives me some perspective, as far away as Alaska. ‘Sharing’ from others is such an unexpected treat. Are there coffee shops right on the water? I can see you all sitting in a boat sipping together without worrying about assembramenti!
I can’t think of any cafe’s right on the water. It’s generally easy to tie your boat up somewhere (briefly) and go ashore to some nearby place for a coffee — or to carry six or ten back to the boat — but sitting in a boat doesn’t count as assembramenti. (Too few people, and generally distanced in a reasonable way.) Also, the coffee would be cold by the time you got to the boat. Also, it only takes about 40 seconds to drink it — you may know that people here don’t linger over the coffee as coffee. You might want to sit around with a cup in your hand, but the coffee itself has to be ingested while it’s still screamingly hot. Considering that you are dealing generally with two tablespoons’-worth of liquid, you don’t have much of a window before it’s stone cold. What induces people to linger as they sip are real drinks, such as the imperishable spritz, but if you have a few of those you lose some of your desire to row….
Hi Erla,
Thank you for your update. I am glad to see that you have not lost your sense of humour. Those sad lions made me laugh out lound.
Thank you Erla, always a delicious and satisfying experience to read your postings. We miss Venice like a dear dear friend…
So glad to hear from you again – this is almost exactly the sort of images and words I’d thought you would produce, finely-observed images, perceptive comments, so well-presented, giving a real feel of the place and time.
As always, thank you.
Thanks for the update, Erla.
It’s always great to read your blog and you always find so many interresting details. Life isn’t as it was and God knows when it, if ever, will be but were there are children, or boats or perhaps children in boats, there is usually some happiness to be had, . In an earlier post I believe the expression “thimblefuls of joy” were used and in these days i guess we’ve learned to cherish those.
It’s great to hear from you and I hope to be back in Venice soon. I actually saw this t-shirt with the text “I don’t need therapy, I just need Italy!”, but I’d like to change it to “Venice, with friends!”.
All the best!
Thanks, as always, Andreas. Hope you are hanging on in the frozen north. But I wonder — where will all the Italians who need therapy go? Because by now there are plenty of them around.