Meditation on May
May is a special month to many people, for many reasons. I believe a million poets have made that observation.
For me, the month of roses and gobies and European flounder (there is definitely a poem in there waiting to be lured out), has always been one of the most stressful in the whole year. I would begin dreading May in February, because of two enormous, hence exhausting, annual events that involved Lino and me: the festival of the Sensa (Ascension Day) and the Vogalonga. (“Involved” means planning as well as execution; Lino is part of the Committee of the Sensa, and I would work in the registration office of the Vogalonga for the two weeks leading up to the event.)
Then I would participate in both events — the boat procession, or corteo, for the Sensa, proceeding from Venice to the Lido, and the Vogalonga, which when everything went well would take a good five hours. Things did not always go well; one year it took us seven hours to complete it, due to contrary wind and/or tide, some less-than-prepared rowers in our boat, etc. That’s not a complaint, just a statement. These things happen and you just grit your teeth and carry on. Apart from the rowing itself, we’d see many friends only once a year for the Vogalonga, so any empty spaces in the calendar or the energy of that weekend were filled with convivial (fancy word for “running far into the night”) gatherings in apartments, restaurants, boats, etc.
But this May is abnormal, melancholy, bizarre, because both events have long since been canceled, taking all that annoying confusion, exhaustion, and tension with them. And I’m still not happy! Because this is weird!
The Sensa has been reduced to the commemorative mass at the church of San Nicolo’ on the Lido; it will be attended by the usual personages, but there will be no boats, no tossing of the wreath or the ring, and no races. Why? Because GATHERINGS ARE FORBIDDEN. People would want to GATHER along the shore to watch, and the rowers would certainly be gathered in their boats (forbidden), and the boats would be gathered, and just no.
I suppose some private boats could form a procession, each one rowed by the permitted maximum of two people, but that would be even sadder than no boats at all. I told Lino I thought it would extremely cool if every boat club would send their big representative boat, but instead of a full crew each one could be rowed by two people (even the boats that are set up for ten, or 12, or 14 people) or — even better! — rowed by just one person. He said he didn’t think there were that many individuals capable of rowing a big boat by themselves, so there goes that little inspiration. Also, only I have this sort of crackpot idea.
But back to reality. The limitations on rowers would make it impossible to form a corteo. Here is the list of regulations from our boat club; notice that using the boats requires booking a time slot to ensure that only the rowers going out are permitted to even be in the clubhouse. Fine, it was just a fantasy.
“It is forbidden to use the changing rooms and showers in the club. Boats may go out with one rower. Boats with two rowers can go out if they respect the minimum distance of two meters between them in the boat. More than two rowers can go out without respecting the distance requirement EXCLUSIVELY if they are family members who are living together. Use of the mask is OBLIGATORY (worn in the correct manner, that is, covering the mouth and the nose) before and after rowing (one boards and descends from the boat with the mask on). Booking the time of going out and returning will be made EXCLUSIVELY on the WhatsApp group of the club, allowing 20 minutes between exit and return time in order to avoid meetings (overlapping, running into other people, however you want to put it) in the clubhouse. If on return you find that another boat is preparing to exit the club, wait at a distance till the other boat has departed. Seeing the situation, to guarantee the safety and health of all members, the Council of Directors will look at the recorded videos to ensure that all the members respect these rules. Anyone who goes out MUST, on return, wash the club’s boat and oars with water and bleach-based soap provided in the club.”
The Vogalonga — this year would have been the 46th — was scheduled, as always, a week after the Sensa — May 31, to be precise. It has never been canceled, even in the worst weather. A pandemic is clearly so much worse than weather. Besides, no one can travel, the hotels are closed, and just to review the basics: Gatherings of people are forbidden. If some 2000 boats in the water don’t constitute a gathering, then we need a new definition.
So the two big events that made May matter have been expunged and left only its husk ready to fall off the calendar just like March and April have already done. What an ignoble end to a once-princely month.
Happily, spring is proceeding with its usual nonchalance, bestowing any number of special gifts (do they still qualify as gifts if you count on getting them every year?). Blackbirds singing at dawn and at sunset, the limetrees just beginning to waft their delicate perfume along viale Garibaldi, the first magnolia on the tree next to General Emo Capodilista. The signs of the season haven’t failed us.
And we’re well underway with the artichokes (their moment is almost over), and fresh peas and asparagus. The fruit is in that awkward stage between winter and summer — we’re bored to death with apples and bananas, but the first cherries are expensive and flavorless, the apricots should be ashamed of pushing themselves forward so aggressively because they are definitely not ready yet, and some vendors are offering melons, for Lord’s sake. Everybody knows that melons were put on this earth to save your life in July and August; in May you might as well just sell photos of melons, the taste would be the same.
Fish, however, are having their moment. “Quando la rosa mette spin’, xe bon el go’ e el passarin.” When the rose puts out its thorns, the gobie and the flounder are good. Seppie belong in this category too, but it doesn’t rhyme.
Lino, who has fished all year long all his life, tells me this: “The go’ are always in the lagoon. The passarini lay their eggs in December and go out into the Adriatic; they come back in between March and April. The seppie begin to come into the lagoon in March. In May and June the gilthead bream, striped seabream and sea bass come in to lay their eggs….” I know things are proceeding according to plan because we have seen little swarms of fingerlings in the canal several times.
Reopening report card
Monday morning, things were different. Yes, we (still) have no tourists, nor will we, probably, for an unknown stretch of time. But it seemed like there were more locals around, somehow. Life has begun to find its old grooves, though not always in a good way; “old grooves” means “do whatever I want.” I was afraid of this. More on this below.
There are still regulations, but they have evolved. The Gazzettino published two pages of lists, according to category, of what we’re allowed to do during this phase. (Phase 3 will begin June 3).
Masks are still required outdoors wherever it’s impossible to maintain social distancing, but gloves are no longer required inside a shop unless you intend to be touching the merchandise. (Shops will have bottles of hand-sanitizer and sometimes gloves available.) Clearly you can resist touching certain things, but only up to a point — I doubt that the employees will always be available to do your fetching and carrying. And of course, if you’re buying clothing you’ll have to touch the merchandise. Obvious. Just plan on gloves.
Gloves are no longer required on the vaporetto. Even more interesting is that the seating has been reassigned to accommodate more passengers.
Did I say “more passengers”? Transport is a mess now. The number of boats hasn’t increased, and the 4.1 and 4.2 lines have yet to reappear. A friend of mine waited 50 minutes at Piazzale Roma to be able to board a vaporetto bound for the Lido. I think what’s so annoying about that is that the ACTV seems to have been hoping people just wouldn’t notice that they had cut service by 50 per cent. When nobody could travel, the service could have been cut even more than that, but now people actually want to get somewhere. Amazing, I know. Who would have thought.
The main problem this week — and it’s a big one — is the increasing number of people not wearing masks, or with their masks pulled down below their chin. I saw a man this morning talking with a friend, and the man had pulled his mask down to make talking easier. I’m sure he put it back when it wasn’t needed anymore. And social distancing? Suddenly people here are having more difficulty than I am in estimating what “one meter” means (and they’ve grown up with the metric system)…
NOTICE: Do not overstep (this barrier), the zone is secure for persons at the tables. To reach the restrooms, use the side door in the calle and respect the wait times. The bar is disinfected (“hygienized”) at mid-day and at evening by means of a bleach-based solution as advised by the minister of health. Entrance is forbidden during the disinfection!
For your further care: Every table is supplied with spray and/or disinfectant wipes. Clients are free to disinfect tables and seats. Attention: The products are based on bleach solution (1 per cent). At night an anti-bacteria lamp with ozone will be used, to guarantee as germ-free a local as possible.
Please be aware of these and respect the rules, the customers, the owners, and the collective health.
NOTICE: At the table please keep your gloves on till you are sure to be in a disinfected area. You are requested to register (everybody) on our Facebook page to keep track of your presence to be notified in case of contagion.
You are requested to have your self-certification in case of any controls by the competent officers. Specific disinfecting products will be available to you. Remove your mask only to drink or eat. Put on gloves and mask before asking for the bill. Wait to be sure you have useful interpersonal space before moving around.
Avoid touching surfaces that you don’t need to use.
Please be aware of these and respect the rules, the customers, the owners, and the collective health.
Lest you think they have an extreme concern for their customers, which of course I hope they do, bear in mind that they also have an extreme concern for themselves. Literally overnight, like some diabolical algae bloom, masses of people gathering to party in public places has become a major problem. It’s happening all over Italy. Fines for these happy-hour shenanigans range from 300 to 4,000 euros, and if that’s no deterrent to the blithe spirits, the bar and restaurant owners are enjoined to break up any groups forming in front of their establishment, otherwise they (the owners) risk suspension of their licenses and will be closed.
All this revelry is the big story these days, because groups MUST NOT BE PERMITTED TO FORM. Front-page headline in the Gazzettino two days ago: “Spritz and folly: ‘I’ll close everything again'” (Luca Zaia, governor of the Veneto). “The Halt! of the governor: Exaggerated nightlife and too many without masks: They should remember the deaths.” “In Padova tens of young people drunk, carabinieri attacked” (wait, what?). “The prefect: Stupidity everywhere, I’m astonished by such childishness.”
The Gazzettino’s headlines yesterday: “Wild nights: Maxi-fines and closures. Bars packed and spritz without masks. (Prime Minister) Conte: This isn’t the time to be partying. Steep sanctions for whoever slips up and stopping the bars.” Sorry for the translation — like so many things, it sounds better in Italian.
“Look,” Zaia states on the front page — “I’ll close everything. We’ll go back to sealing ourselves in our houses with silicone. The use of the mask can’t be seen as a whim, it’s a lifesaver.”
So these modest little photos of via Garibaldi are nothing compared to the locust-swarms of adolescents of every age that overnight have turned the streets and piazzas of Italian towns into pullulating masses of merriment. What strikes me as modestly amusing is that in Venice a lot of this behavior used to be perpetrated by the much-maligned tourists. I’m not saying that whenever the tourists return, and presumably resume their rampant rude revolting craziness, that I’m going to be glad. I’ll be glad to see people enjoying the city, as I always have been when people come to Venice who do not act either like a herd of overstimulated wild boars or moribund water buffalo collapsing before they reach the river.
Speaking of tourists, this just in: The Biennale has been canceled for this year. It had been scheduled as per normal from late May to late November; comes the pandemic and it was halved to run from late August to late November. Now it will run from late never to late never. Whatever disappointment you may feel about losing the chance to see the exhibitions is nothing compared to what the myriad tourist-tenders are feeling. The 2019 edition logged almost 600,000 visitors, who not only paid the entrance fee but ate, slept, and did other money-intensive things here to the tune of 48,000,000 euros. Whatever percentage of that amount the city treasury realized, it will be sorely missed this year. Tourism to Venice isn’t just shirtless day-trippers laying siege to the Piazza San Marco.
Another sign of the new times is price hikes. Some hairdressers and bar owners are trying to make up lost ground by increasing their prices. There have been reports of an espresso costing as much as 1.70 euros (as opposed to the normal 1 or 1.10). Some salons have added 2 euros, marked “COVID” on the bill, to cover the cost of the single-use supplies they have had to lay in, and some have acquired expensive disinfecting equipment that cleans the air by ozone. Some shops have a box for contributions to help defray the new costs.
There’s at least one normal thing I’d rather not see. It has nothing to do with coronavirus, but is a sort of mine-canary for what I consider the dark side of life-as-usual here: Horrific motorboat accidents. For nearly three months private motorboats were grounded, and at the moment motorboat traffic is still fairly modest (taxis are yet to be seen, for one thing), so accidents haven’t made news because there weren’t any. But on May 18 there was a headline about a collision with a piling, and it brought a dank whiff of “Oh, so we’re back to doing that again,” not unlike the random shootings in the US once lockdown was lifted.
The reopening begins
The big day is at hand: Monday, May 18, a whole slew of heretofore closed, locked, stashed-in-a-trunk-in-the-attic businesses will finally be allowed to reopen.
Reading the not-so-fine print on the terms and conditions, though, reveals a huge number of rules that most businesses are racing to accommodate. Even so, it’s going to be extremely hard for them to make up for the lost two and a half months, not to mention begin making something like a profit; lack of tourists is going to be a challenge to overcome, fiscally speaking. I say this in the sense of Mount Everest being a challenge to overcome, physically speaking.
Let’s take these in no order whatsoever. No, let’s take them in the order that affects or interests me. I’m leaving out all sorts of details bearing on gyms, second homes, beaches, and more, each of which carries its own payload of regulations. And bear in mind that these rules may change between towns and regions — national regulation-making seems to have broken down.
General joy breaks forth because now you are allowed to see your friends, but only in the open air, NOT at anybody’s house, and NO PARTIES. You still have to maintain distancing and avoid clumping together in groups. From what I’ve seen in the past few days in the neighborhood, those rules might as well have been promulgated in some Manchu-Tungusic dialect.
Public transport. You must wear a mask and gloves, and maintain one-meter distancing. That’s pretty simple.
Where it has already started to become complicated is the fact that the passenger limit on the vaporettos is now 55, as opposed to the astronomical number of people — I read “400” somewhere, but maybe that’s an exaggeration? — that used to cram themselves aboard during high season.
So seats have been taken out of service, so to speak. You have to manage your own distancing if you’re standing in the aisle, but the seats leave no room for debate.
Let’s say that we might be dreaming to have tourists come back. Maybe not ALL of them, but a good number. Will distancing be abandoned and the vaporettos return to their former fall-of-Saigon ways? At the moment, the #1 is scheduled every 20 minutes, so that’s obviously unsustainable if you have any more than the current amount of locals riding. For one thing, the lines that would form in order to board would be unspeakably long.
And the lines would function only if everybody continued to obey the rules. A few days ago a small riot was on the verge of breaking out at S. Maria Elisabetta (Lido) when the vaporetto captain halted the boarding process because the maximum number of passengers had been reached. Everyone left on the dock released all that pent-up lockdown tension, and the Carabinieri were called to restore order. And — I repeat — those were only locals. Shall we add a few hundred tourists to the mix?
Fun fact: There are eight vaporettos on which a place can be booked, to ensure that you (or more to the point, the commuters) don’t get left ashore because the vaporetto is full. (There is also an app for booking, but I repeat, only on certain vaporettos.)
Not-so-fun fact: If you have an urgent need to take a vaporetto and it’s at its maximum capacity — as happened to a child in pain heading to the hospital with his mother for an urgent treatment — you still might not be able to board. Even doctors going to work have been left on the dock, waiting for the next boat. The ACTV explains that the staff isn’t permitted to decide who gets to ride and who doesn’t (this makes sense, because otherwise there would literally be no end to it). They say that if a passenger decides to disembark to give his place to someone else, the other people waiting on the dock have to give their approval.
Bars/cafes: As is clear to everybody, customers have taken matters into their own hands in terms of buying and consuming (outdoors) the usual products of these indispensable establishments. A bar’s indispensability may have many definitions; to one person, it may mean the double espresso cappuccino they can’t make at home but without which life is not worth living, while to another person (me) it means the fabulously dependable places all over the city where you can count on finding a bathroom.
Feel free to snicker, but it’s going to die on your lips when you realize, as I did on the first morning of lockdown, that there was no Plan B for dealing with my first morning coffee’s progress once I was more than ten minutes away from home. We were going to our favorite butcher, a trip that requires 20 brisk walking minutes. And back. Plus the wait-time (unknown) to enter the shop, and the time in the shop. As we set out, I suddenly realized that if I had to go to the bathroom at any point, my only option was some nearby canal. I have nothing against using canals, but they don’t come with many secluded corners.
Not to dwell on this, but the total absence of cafe’s suddenly took on cosmic significance. How to sketch out an itinerary that takes into account that I will have to hold it till I get home? We all know that having to think about it makes it all much worse.
I will conclude this little meditation by saying that yes, we did walk to the Rialto market last Saturday for the first time in two months, and yes, after an hour and a half of travel (we were stopping for me to make photographs) I realized that the return trip was going to be a problem. Our favorite bar/cafe was open for takeaway! Our favorite barista/owner told me that nobody was permitted to enter! The wild look in my eyes inspired compassion and I snuck inside like some criminal who already hears the heavy tread of the penitentiary police.
I have the deepest respect for the owners of bars and cafes, but never realized till now that their supreme value isn’t in the beverages and snacks, but that they provide a link in the chain of civilized life without which all life has to stay within ten minutes of home.
Restaurants: It’s not clear to me if the current system of takeaway will continue, but there is a s*#t-ton of rules for normal restaurant operation. Tables must be spaced four meters (12 feet) apart, and diners at the same table must be seated one meter (three feet) apart. Patrons must make a reservation (I’m not clear on how stringent that will be as time goes on), and the restaurant owner must retain the list of reservations for 14 days for possible tracing of customers. Diners must wear masks except (perhaps obviously) when eating; waiters will be wearing masks and gloves. No more printed menus. No buffets. Only credit cards will be accepted, to avoid contagion via cash. The locale will be disinfected daily, more than once.
There will be fewer customers because so far there are only locals around, but even if the customers are tourists there will be fewer tables due to the shrinking of available space to seat them.
Arrigo Cipriani has stated that he isn’t going to reopen Harry’s Bar for the foreseeable future. If he were to space out the tables in the famous bar according to the law, not only would he be left with something like a mere four tables in that small space, but the atmosphere would be deathly, and I don’t mean because of the virus. Also, it’s preposterous to think of making any money with so few tables, even though the upstairs restaurant is somewhat more spacious. The geometry is ruthless.
To sum up: There are some 336,137 restaurants in Italy employing 1,200,000 workers. It has been estimated that under anti-contagion regulations, 80 per cent of restaurants will not be able to reopen.
Hair salons/barbers/beauty treatments: This is really going to be fun (oh, I sincerely think not. Not for anybody). There is an infinity of new decrees for the providers and purveyors of beauty. Here is a clip that circulated on WhatsApp showing somebody’s fantasy of how your average salon will have to operate under the new distancing/disinfection rules:
So much for joking. From now on, hair salons will accept customers only by appointment. They will be allowed to open on Monday and even on Sunday. No more magazines or newspapers lying around to be leafed through by thousands of contagious fingers. Single-use capes. The towels may be reused, but before washing they must be kept in a closed, impermeable bag, then washed for 30 minutes at 140 degrees F (60 degrees C).
Shops Owners must guarantee cleanliness, disinfecting the store at least twice a day. There must be gloves, as well as disinfectant gel, available at the entrance.
Beaches, swimming pools, etc. will be opening with another batch of spacing rules (umbrellas, group sports on the beach, space between swimmers). There has been some excited comment about not requiring lifeguards to wear masks. Important? Not? I can’t decide anymore.
Mass Finally the priests will be celebrating mass. The number of persons allowed in church will be limited (think tags of tape on the pews to indicate spacing). Masks and gloves required. Communion wafers distributed and accepted only with single-use-gloved hands. It says in the newspaper that entrance will be forbidden to anyone with a temperature above 37.5 degrees C (99.5 degrees F). It doesn’t say who is going to be checking these temperatures.
In conclusion: We’ve been told a million times by now that this new phase is experimental; if any of the virus numbers begin to increase, back we all go to square one. “The virus hasn’t disappeared,” virologist Dr. Andrea Crisanti told La Nuova Venezia. “And with the reopening, we hope for the best, but we need to prepare ourselves for the worst.”
Eating out at home
The restaurants lining via Garibaldi are opening up — at least as far as they can, which is summed up in a word: “Takeaway.” I hear that the coronavirus-adaptive procedures at restaurants here are essentially the same in the U.S. these days, but still thought I’d show how the local places, and a bar and a pastry shop, are starting to make do while awaiting the next directives on their future. A hint has already been released that restaurants and hair salons may be allowed to open before June 1, to universal rejoicing.
Here is a look at ViaGaribaldiWorld and environs at the moment, as seen through hungry eyes (those of the customer, as well as the proprietor).
