I was all set — eager, even, sleeves rolled up — to weigh in on some important points about Venice as revealed by the current absence of tourists. But developments in the past two days have led me to reconsider the timing of those points. The situation here is not improving.
Schools will be closed for another week, theoretically reopening on March 16. Masses are still forbidden, and some sporting events are being held, but without spectators. We have been instructed not to shake hands, or even consider hugging or kissing any of our friends — so much for those hearty greetings in passing in via Garibaldi. Something called the “Wuhan shake” has been proposed as an alternative (touching opposing feet), or bumping elbows. I suppose those would work if your sense of human interaction is incomplete without some physical contact, but I think they would only make people feel awkward and self-conscious. Maybe after a few generations that would wear off.
So much for the people who are here. But plenty of people are not going to be here — cancellations are flooding in (sorry). A potential tourist’s fear of being infected is realistically complicated by fear of not being able to return home. “Rooms are down to just 20-30 per cent occupancy,” said Claudio Scarpa, director of the hoteliers’ association, “and some are down to zero.” Ten hotels in Venice are beginning to consider laying off staff (with unemployment benefits, as appropriate), and perhaps even closing — temporarily, one can hope.
The airports of the Veneto region (not only Venice, but also Verona and Treviso) have registered a 30 per cent drop in passengers; Israel, Jordan, and South Korea have forbidden flights coming from the Veneto. Evidently people departing Italy are now regarded as hazardous material, and people wanting to go Italy aren’t much more appealing. I saw a photograph of the departure gates for flights to Italy at Sheremetyovo airport in Moscow — all the personnel were wearing hazmat suits, completely covered, as if they were dealing with a bioterrorist site. Gad. I’m starting to feel like some sort of leper.
But I still didn’t get a sense of how serious the situation was becoming until the astonishing news came yesterday that the Biennale (this year dedicated to architecture) is being sliced in half. It usually opens in May and runs to the end of November, and provides ponderous amounts of money to the city’s economy. Now, instead of opening on May 11, it will open on August 29. In 2019 the Biennale counted some 600,000 visitors (roughly 3,000 per day), plus several thousand journalists, all of whom needed to eat and sleep in some manner, and pay for same. A mere three months isn’t going to do much for the city’s coffers, though by now I guess we should say it’s better than nothing. The prospect of “nothing” is also sobering.
All those terrible things we got used to saying about tourists? I think a lot of people would love to have the chance to say them again.
