We took a constitutional walk this morning (2.2 miles, 209 calories, 1 hour 6 minutes), as we have the past few mornings. One does feel the need to move, at least at the beginning of the day. We buy the Gazzettino, we do some minimal shopping, and then back into our lair.
It has been driven home a million times that we are not to touch our eyes, nose or mouth, so naturally that’s all I want to do. I have managed to compromise with myself, and only rub my nose with my sleeve, as if I were five years old. (I doubt that I was allowed to do that when I was five, though Lino remembers a number of children when he was small whose sleeves were their first line of drippy-nose defense all winter long.) Tissues were invented in 1924, but unhappily it wasn’t for the succor of Venetian urchins.
Walking along around 9:00 AM, I counted from five to seven vaporettos of various types moving around the bacino of San Marco (battello, motoscafo, the Alilaguna, the ferry between Tronchetto and Lido) but only a few other vehicles. The next bulletins about them may well have to do with limiting the service; it’s only a matter of time. Even I can see that it’s not the best idea to keep burning fuel to carry so few people around, although it does sort of liven up the landscape.
No more guessing if you fit in the shop or not — the small tobacco/toy store has already calculated the correct dimensions and stipulated how many people can enter at a time. In red letters: “Attention: Because of the new public health law only two persons at a time may enter.”Closer to San Marco, the English subtitles appear. In this glass shop in Campo San Zaccaria they can take four at a time.“Crisis of coronavirus 8 hotels in 10 are heading toward closing.” We were warned that this was likely, and considering how few people are to be seen on the streets, it seems inevitable.We saw them locking the chain on the front door of the hotel Al Nuovo Teson at 10:00 AM and it seemed fairly final. I’ve seen plenty of places closed with signs saying “Closed for maintenance” or “Closed for vacation,” with reopening dates noted. The hotel’s website accepts a reservation for day after tomorrow, so I’m not sure what to think about this chain. There’s a saying here that “Hope is the last thing to die,” so we may be reaching that point.
This is the first official notice of the day, discovered this morning at our favorite neighborhood bar. We heard days ago that we were supposed to maintain the minimum distance of one meter (roughly one arm’s length) between us, but now it’s official.It says: “Notice to clients, from 2 March 2020 based on the DPCM (Decreto del Presidente del Consiglio dei Ministri) of March 1 2020, our clients are informed that, to avoid crowding, access to this business is conditional on the maintenance of at least one meter of distance between persons. Entrance to this business is limited by the maintenance of this precautionary health measure. Thank you for your understanding and collaboration.”Distance between people means distance between tables. The Bar Mio has separated them at a little more than the regulation one meter. They’ve sacrificed some tables that used to be in demand, so much demand that they were jammed as close as possible. But with demonstrably fewer customers, it doesn’t really matter.
Greetings from the Red Zone.
People in Venice are in the grip of coronavirus, everybody in the world knows that by now. Toddlers in Kiribati must know that. But what does that mean, apart from the basic epidemiological definition? Well, every day it means something new, and today I realize it means living by a long list of rules, regulations, decrees and ordinances. Or maybe it’s not a LONG list, but just the same list repeated in more ways and in more public places.
Residents of Venice are now prohibited from entering or leaving the city, except for extremely valid and precisely defined and not-to-be-negotiated reasons. If the police stop and ask you what you think you’re doing by heading toward or away from Venice, you’d better have a really good answer ready. No more eyelash-batting, “The dog ate my blood test report,” “Gee Officer Krupke” replies. There is now an official document to fill out to justify your movements, and if you don’t have a copy with you, the police will furnish one. And sign it.
This is the self-certification form. The towns are listed, as you see, and you must state where you are coming from and where you’re going, and check the box (or boxes?) that apply to your situation: Demonstrable work demands; situations of necessity; health reasons; returning home (or as they so thoroughly specify: domicile, habitation, or residence).
But that’s only the thin end of the iceberg, as a friend once put it. Here is the list of “Don’ts” (and a few equally stringent “do’s”) for us plodding neighborhood denizens:
This proclamation was posted on the church notice-board of San Francesco da Paola: “Coronavirus: Obligations and Good Conduct for the Citizens.” Translation below.
What distance must I keep from other people? At least one meter.
What if I have a fever? Above 37.5 degrees C (99.5 degrees F), call your family doctor, remain at home and do NOT go to the Emergency Room.
Can I go to work? Yes, it is one of the permitted activities.
Can I go other communes (communities)? Absolutely NOT, save for situations of necessity.
Can I move around for health reasons? (This implies medical appointments, tests, therapies, etc.) Yes, always.
Who absolutely must remain at home? The elderly and those with compromised immune systems or pathologies.
Will mass and other religious functions be conducted? No.
Bars, ice cream shops, restaurants? Opening between 6:00 and 18.00.
Medium-sized and large shopping areas? Closed on festive and pre-festive days (note: in a normal week, this means Sunday and Saturday, respectively; if there is a holiday, such as Christmas, that falls on a weekday, that day is categorized as “festive,” and the preceding day would be the “pre-festive”) except for food stores.
Can I go shopping? Yes, one person per family.
Pharmacies and parapharmacies? Open as usual.
Schools and nurseries? Closed till April 3.
Meetings, conventions, events, manifestations (this could be a sports competition, or a political demonstration, or many other public activities that involve groups): Forbidden.
City offices? Almost all of their services are available online. Essential and urgent services are guaranteed.
In the same way that cutting the Biennale in half made me realize Things are Worse than I Thought, I had the same feeling when I just read that “Bars, pubs, and restaurants will be open from 6:00 AM to 6:00 PM” (1800 hours, as they write it here). The command “Stay at home” has been interpreted in all sorts of ways, but “Restaurants will close at 6:00 PM” is impossible to misunderstand. What’s going to be next — ration cards?
Every single one of these rules is there for a reason — I am not quibbling or complaining. It’s just that by the time you reach some kind of adult cruising altitude in life, you have prioritized a lot of the rules. You don’t put “Do not kill” on the same level in your mind as “Do not hang up on your mother,” or “Don’t go outside without sunscreen.” But these coronavirus rules are all on the same level, and it requires some effort to remember them.
If this goes on, they will undoubtedly become habit. That will be interesting.
Here we have a list from the Ministry of Health outlining other behavior we need to adopt, posted around the Morosini Naval School.
Wash your hands often with soap and water or alcohol-based gel.
Avoid close contact with persons who suffer from acute respiratory infections.
Don’t touch your eyes, nose and mouth with your hands.
Cover your mouth and nose with one-use handkerchiefs (tissues) if you sneeze or cough. If you don’t have a tissue, use the inside of your elbow.
Do not take any anti-viral or antibiotic medicine without your doctor’s prescription.
Clean all surfaces with disinfectants based on chlorine or alcohol.
Use a face mask only if you suspect you are sick or if you are helping sick persons.
Products MADE IN CHINA and packages received from China are not dangerous.
Pets do not spread the coronavirus.
If in doubt, do not go to the Emergency Room, call your family doctor and follow his/her instructions.
Sunday morning, five minutes before 8:30 opening time at the Coop supermarket in via Garibaldi. Lino and the man to the left with two shopping trolleys have known each other forever, though that doesn’t mean they’re exactly friends. They exchanged greetings and the other man muttered, “It’s like wartime.”Inside the supermarket on Monday afternoon, the line for the checkout registers stretched back forever; there may have been 20 people waiting even though three registers were working. The slowdown was caused by several innovations. A wait-behind-this-line strip had been taped to the floor (I’m standing behind one on the left). The hand-written signs say “Wait here for your turn. Thank you.” The next person in line wasn’t permitted even to move ahead to put his items on the belt until the previous customer had paid and BAGGED ALL HIS ITEMS AND WALKED AWAY FROM THE COUNTER. The cashiers were wearing rubber gloves.“Streets are deserted” is impossible in a town where there are 2.5 dogs for every 5.7 citizens (made up). Virus or no, of course you will find people outside in the morning. Every morning, till the end of time.
These are certainly not the most elaborate costumes I saw, but the glowing parasols are the point.
Carnival (or Carnevale, if you prefer) isn’t something I gorge on every year; I tend to take a few little nibbles around the edges. And this year wouldn’t have been any different except that a former colleague from National Geographic, photographer Tomasz Tomaszewski, said he was coming with a friend to make pictures, and asked if I could give a logistical hand.
For three intense days (Thursday to Saturday) we wandered around — if you can call eight miles a day “wandering” — and it turned out to be surprisingly entertaining. This doesn’t mean I can’t wait till next year to do it all again, but either the quality of the costumes was higher than in some years past, or I’ve changed in some indefinable way, or something.
You can never go wrong with dogs.
I hope you enjoy these snaps, because the story of Carnevale 2020 has not had a happy ending. Northern Italy (specifically the regions of Lombardia and Veneto) are in the tightening clutch of the COVID-19 epidemic. On Sunday there were only 20,000 revelers out of an expected 100,000.
In fact, the curtain fell on Carnevale two days early – Sunday nght at midnight, to be precise. I don’t know that this has ever happened, but missing the culmination of festivities on Tuesday (Martedi’ Grasso) has certainly made the scheduled participants unhappy. The 12 Marias are in tears because now we’ll never know who was the fairest of them all.
That’s just the beginning. The governor of the Veneto has decreed many decrees prohibiting events or places of any sort where people might gather in groups larger than (insert small number here). Until March 1 the schools, universities, and museums are closed. There will be no masses celebrated in church, even on Ash Wednesday, not even in the basilica of San Marco. Sporting events are all canceled.
But let me share a look back at a few sunny days when Carnival was fully fledged and nobody was worrying about anything more important than where to finally find a place to sit down.
Trailing clouds of glory, this couple proceeded at a stately pace beneath puffs and cherubs. The stately pace was more or less imposed by the weight of the costume (some of them went up to 26 pounds, or 12 kg), and walking slowly also made it easy for photographers to snap away. The most elaborate costumes made many stops on the stroll around the Piazza because almost all of this activity was undertaken precisely to be photographed. Just like the casinos want you to steal their ashtrays (I was told once…), people dress up here to be photographed. You can’t possibly offend them by asking. Or not asking and just going ahead, shooting away, which is more common.Photographers were swarming like freaking locusts.Everybody was happy.All it took was for one person to start shooting and there was a sudden rush from everywhere and the wild fluttering sound of camera shutters. It was like seagulls attacking a slice of pizza.She was only pretending to play but it looked like she was having a grand time.I give her credit for willingness to walk around with an entire fabric-store supply of material draped on and around her, but it makes me feel tired and slightly smothered just looking at her.The roses…..It seems slightly Zen to come all the way from Tokyo to sit by yourself, but perhaps her cavalier was out getting her cigarettes or something. Tomasz is immortalizing her and her cigarette holder; she told him that she had made the costume (or had it made; in any case, it wasn’t rented, as many people do to simplify matters).
There were far too many 18th-century-Mozart-Casanova-Marie-Antoinette costumes roaming around for my taste, but this French couple took it to a whole new level. They (or she) makes the costumes, and she told me that they changed their outfit every day — wigs and all. I secretly called her Melisande, but her real name is Charlotte and she comes from La Rochelle. She and her friends — two men were in tow — drove to Venice with their steamer trunks loaded with this glorious garb.Good from the back, as well.She was too perfect. Perhaps she was listening for the distant rumble of the tumbrels?Speaking of French, this squadron was a sight to behold– three admirals, home from the fleet after a vigorous few months of bashing the English (I imagine).These cafes are expensive, but if you can find a seat they’re the best place to give your costume a rest for a while.If there’s anywhere the standard period costume really looks good (apart from the Caffe’ Florian, I mean), it’s in a gondola.She needed a better position than a mere cafe table and she got it atop the balustrade of the entrance to the campanile.I began to yearn for simplicity, the way you yearn for a pickle after a hot pastrami sandwich. These two Italian ladies were just what I needed.As was this girl.Dotted nylons and sparkly sneakers — that’s her Carnevale outfit and I really like it.Then this vision rose from the sea, a magical naiad combining fantasy, glamour, and dazzling simplicity. Even the pose was perfect.This extraordinary headdress is all reef — coral, algae, shells.The pictures were all of Venice and water. If we have to have acqua alta, could more of these creatures appear, please?I forgot all about Melisande when I lost my heart to Ondine.At the Rialto, another breath of non-18th-century air. Very few elements involved (not like the mountain of material with the white silk roses), but all the better for that. Finding a great hat that wasn’t a tricorn isn’t deeply difficult, but you have to realize that that’s really what your outfit needs.I entertain myself by noticing reflections, and this one of the basilica’s facade was a nice change from the parade of people.You can only look at so many costumes before your eyes seek something drastically different. Here’s a shop at the end of a long sunny street with people apparently walking through it. Photographer Tomaszewski, or his shadow, has paused at the right to look at something. Or nothing. His eyes might have been getting tired too.
In my last post I mentioned the various physical effects of the Redentore festivizing, but I forgot to mention the nautical manifestations of Redentore Syndrome. A new one turned up on the Morning After (Sunday).
You should know that by now a large percentage — I’d guess around 97 per cent — of the boats which come to watch the fireworks are not carrying Venetians. By this I don’t mean to say that Venetians don’t come (though an informal survey reveals that they are fewer each year), nor do I mean that Venetians only come in boats with oars, because, there too, the number is dwindling. Certainly some Venetians come in their motor- or sailboats. But, at least in our neighborhood, people either watch from the fondamenta, as we do, or don’t go at all. (Giorgio was asleep upstairs by 9:30.) A wander around the zone revealed that the majority of the partyers are from elsewhere — foreigners on vacation, or people from the hinterland in every direction, from Chioggia to Treviso to Padova to points beyond. Many of them do not have a deep experience of boats, as I can confirm from seeing them around the lagoon.
The lagoon as seen by the innumerable people who come to zoom around for the day or, in the current case, the night. Notice the lack of waves, pilings, current, barges, taxis, ambulances, fire-department boats, vaporettos, houseboats, or any other potential hazard. One of our more hilarious memories was the Redentore years ago when the man in the big motorboat two boats over from ours spent the entire evening trying to set his anchor. He kept throwing it, it kept coming loose. The last time he threw it, he fell in. It really was better than the fireworks. (Photo: Maksim Kostenko/Fotolia)
In any case, here is the latest exhibit in that category. What I will never know is whether it was the boat’s owner, or some kindly soul full of good intentions where experience ought to be, who tied it up in this eccentric manner. It’s kind of adorable.
The first funny thing is that this boat is exactly across the canal from the strangled boat of last year. Is this the first landfall certain people manage to make when leaving the scene of the fireworks? Because I can almost promise you they don’t live around here. Being positive, though, we can all be glad that the boat is, indeed, immobilized in some way, and not out there roaming around like the Flying Dutchman.The knot on the boat itself comes from “The Sailor’s Guide to Super-Secure Knots to Make in the Dark While Drunk” (probably). Three thousand turns of a line does not necessarily guarantee that it will stay tied. I speak from experience (though in my experience I was neither drunk, nor was it dark). So I’m guessing this is where the line will give way if a storm strikes.Apparently the person gave up on this incomprehensible knot — good decision — and just draped it atop the stanchion. I’m still trying to decide if this is a genius idea because I guess it would hold pretty well. But I can’t figure out if the knot came first and the loop was just a desperate way to make it useful.Graceful. I like the way it was passed behind one support and through another. This person has an artistic soul, because this couldn’t have been done by chance.And around the boat’s snout. It doesn’t look terribly secure, but the person was doing his/her/their best to cover all the important points. I can hear the Captain’s voice now: “‘Avast, and belay there with a double turn, goodman host.” (The Knight of the Golden Melice).Lino was briefly amused by the photo and the ingenious mooring. As for who or what might have been responsible, his remark was even briefer: “All you have to do is look at the cap,” he said, “and you know everything you need to know.”
