The island of Sant’ Erasmo is the largest in the entire lagoon, which is the least of its appeal. It is a sort of antidote, if you will, to Venice, especially on a muted autumn afternoon. And if you love mosquitoes, you will have gone to heaven. So have the mosquitoes, come to think of it.
Anyone going to the center of town on the island of Sant’ Erasmo (which is redundant — the town is nothing but center) has the option of changing vaporettos at the first stop (“Capannone”) and proceeding to the next stop (“Chiesa”), or spending a tranquil 30 minutes walking from C1 to C2.
The first time I did this was unintentional. Years ago I was voyaging toward the center of town to watch the three Venetian rowing races held there every year on the first Sunday in June. But bad timing on my part meant that I was stuck ashore, because I had had no reason to know that service on that part of the vaporetto’s normal route would be suspended; for a few shining moments each year the vaporettos are banned from what is essentially the racetrack, watery though it may be. This is one of the few occasions in which a Venetian boat being rowed gets to tell a motorboat what it can’t do.
Trekking along among the fields, I discovered I really liked going that way. So a few weeks ago, on the way to the early October races, I happily set out on my pastoral excursion.
It doesn’t look very far, when seen on the map, but when you walk this route you have the sensation of having been transported extremely far from Venice in every way. That’s part of its charm, naturally.
The road is officially named Via de le Motte, which roughly means “Street (or Way) of the Small Artificial Islands Constructed at Convenient Points for the Fishing Valleys.” Man-made hillocks, basically, which makes sense considering how much work has been done during the centuries to make the lagoon useful to people. But it wasn’t long before I discovered that the impending matrimony of two unknown lovers had inspired at least one friend (possibly more than one) to offer a series of dire, last-minute warnings spray-painted onto the asphalt.
For all I know, though, they might have been sprayed on in the dark of night by the groom himself. Or best man? Matron of honor? Mother of the bride? Her father? Her father-in-law?
The very soul and spirit of rural tranquillity. But soon the scene will unexpectedly shift toward drama, imagined or real.“Evviva ea sposa”( Long live the bride). Note for anyone interested in the Venetian language: You do not spell “la” as “ea,” you just pronounce it that way. This spelling is a fairly recent aberration, but it seems to be taking hold. Anyway, the sentiment is charming.“Torna indrio” (torna indietro): Turn back! Me, or the bride? Walk on…Sweet. Now we’re back in lovebird territory. Here’s to C + F. But below the initials are two mystic symbols, one which appear to be pliers or shears or wirecutters, and a turtle. The turtle, I am informed, represents the value of not rushing to the church but taking one’s time, and the shears stand for the groom’s nickname. Read on.“Sei sicura?” (Are you sure?). The use of the feminine gender here is a bit ominous, though I guess it’s not a totally unusual question to ask the bride on the cusp of the great day. One has been known to ask it of oneself, I’ve heard.“Stop” needs no translation. “Fermite” repeats “Stop” as directed to a person.“Dimentica” (forget) followed by “NO.” Pretty clear meaning, but I have discovered that there is a rock song entitled “Dimentica,” sung by a man known as Raf, which is devoted to the melancholy delight raised by the recollection of a love affair which is no more. If this is a veiled reference to lines such as “Forget my words if you can forgive them,” it doesn’t bode well, except for the emphatic “NO.” Maybe I’m overthinking this. On we go.I’m not completely alone with this disembodied duo (or trio?). People have places to go even on Sant’ Erasmo and this is a main road, after all.“Rinuncia a Trancia.” (Renounce “Trancia.”) This isn’t a command to quit using shears/wirecutters/pliers, but an admonition to reject the groom, who happens to go by the nickname “Trancia.” Things are getting a little tense?
“Sei ancora in tempo” (you still have time). I’m beginning to tend toward the best man as perpetrator. A rejected lover? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Fai inversione” (make a U-turn), with a helpful arrow. Bear in mind that these admonitions are spaced reasonably far apart, enough so that as you walk along you don’t see the next one coming up. Of course this adds to their increasing intensity.“Stai superando il limite” (you are passing the limit). As one approaches the town center — you see that lagoon has taken the place of the artichoke fields — the message seems to acquire a certain force. Last chance, babe. You’ve been warned.“Ormai ci siamo” (by now we’re there, “there” implying a conclusion but not a geographical point. It’s as if something has been settled, not that you’ve just about reached the municipal swimming pool).“Specialita’ del giorno tartar di trancia” (Daily special tartare of Trancia). You either have to be a relative, or at least a native of the island, to get the nuances here, but I imagine it’s hilarious.
And so the weird seer fades into the boggy marshes, his/her/their exhortations exhausted.
“The course of true love never did run smooth,” Shakespeare averred. Who’d have thought he’d seen the road on Sant’ Erasmo?
