Venice Held Hostage

I have another confession to make. I absolutely love romance. Just the thought of it makes me flush, but I don't consider myself a hopeless romantic.  That sounds so...hopeless. Rather, I’m a hopeful romantic, so the thought of being back in Venice after the tall, dark handsome man put a smile on my face so long ago, made me excited.  Giddy.  Imagining Bellini’s at sundown in the Piazza San Marco made me wish the water taxi from the airport would speed up the ride and take me to the Piazza immediately where I would people watch, day dream and have a cool cocktail before checking into my hotel.

Those who have been to Venice sigh upon hearing the enchanted name.  We get a certain look-a gleam in the eye.  Unspoken words that need no explaining.  Venezia.  Ahhhhh…. I feel a smile form on my face. I’ve come home.

When I love someone body and soul, I feel protective.  I build a proverbial wall of defense around h/her to make sure no one hurts or destroys my beloved. I become insulted, indignant and wounded if someone says or does anything untoward to a friend or family member.

So imagine my anguish when I returned to Venice and saw the desecration of my city. My special place where all things magical can and did happen.

When I breezed into the Piazza San Marco with Andrea Bocelli’s tenor voice singing in my head and flashbacks of my trip from so long ago in front of my eyes, I was shocked and disappointed.  Plastered on old buildings were enormous advertisements. The desecration of my city.  My Venezia.  My Jewel - HELD HOSTAGE!

Like a stab to the heart, every time I walked through the Piazza or took a vaparetto down the canal, these advertisements blatantly glared at me, screamed at me-trying to woo me with their products and to their stores.  Venice turned into Times Square. 

During my visit, I spoke with some of the locals.  They told me that the Venetians are leaving Venice in droves because it is too expensive to live there, taxes are 20% and there isn’t any commerce except tourism to keep them afloat. On Murano Island, the locals complained that the Asians have inexpensively duplicated their one-of-a-kind hand-blown art and are selling the copies in Venice, driving tourists away from their Island with cheap imitations.

While advertising and tourism helps their economy, there needs to be a balance so that the magic of Venice doesn’t sink and become a playground for tourists, like Disneyland.

Venice has changed and like a lover, I must accept a few flaws and focus on the city’s enchanting attributes.  I must admit, it was hard not to judge the book by its cover.  Vinyl advertisements bombarded the lovely city during the day and at night pushcart salesmen took over the square which was designed as a way for people to stroll, relax and perhaps fall in love. The Piazza was overcome with salespeople selling T-shirts, pens, mugs, key chains from their store on wheels. Obnoxious peddlers threw glowing orbs thirty feet up in the sky, only to have them fall on the heads of tourists and their unsuspecting children. Bad enough to have one sales guy do this, but he had a posse. You had to constantly watch the sky to make sure you weren’t hit in the head with the flying object, instead of just enjoying the lovely view and live music surrounding the perimeter.

Although Venice has changed, in my heart I will always view Venice through the eyes of a hopeful romantic.