Venice

Venice is a city full of history and romance. But at the same time: an amusement park full of people and false facades. Houses built on stilts. Canals that run through the heart of the city like veins of blood, supplying it with life. Tourists are the blood, tourists are the tumor that spreads and proliferates in a linear way. They are the only economic factor that keeps Venice alive, but they suck the city dry, taking away its charm, its authenticity, its uniqueness.

We traveled to Venice in 2013. A short vacation in May. Clouds and blue skies, lukewarm rain showers in the evening. We hadn’t been a couple for very long back then. Could there be a more beautiful place for us?

Gondolas in Venice
Flags of Venice
Rialto Bridge in Venice

Our hotel is a cheap, unplastered house with an inner courtyard and a bathroom in the hallway. The walls of the room are thin, the beds no more than a rickety metal frame with a mattress. It has its charm and the red wine on the dwarfish balcony tastes all the better.

We push our way across the Rialto Bridge at a crawl through the crowd. Eternal love is promised to those who kiss under the bridge. We, on the other hand, are glad to have made it to the other side. Here, in the area of the bridge, is the center of the city. Along the Grand Canal are overpriced restaurants with unique views of the passing gondolas. The gondoliers wear striped jackets, hold the thin, long oars in their hands and steer lovers nestled close together to their hotels. Everything is a little too kitschy, too fake to be believed – if it weren’t for the thousands of tourists who keep pushing in front of the camera or bumping into us.

Gondola in Venice
Scala del Bovolo in Venice
Canal in Venice
Canal in Venice
Canal in Venice

The splendor and importance of the former cosmopolitan city of Venice are channeled in the Doge’s Palace. A glamorous, richly decorated seat of government, perhaps the most beautiful building in the city. When the sun goes down, the shadow of the St. Mark’s Tower falls on the palace. We overlook Venice from the top of the tower. We see the bridges, the canals, the red roofs. We can see the island of San Giorgio Maggiore opposite. The bell tower of San Giorgio rises there as if it were the brother of St. Mark’s Tower.

Abbazia di San Giorgio Maggiore
St. Mark's Campanile in Venice
The Doge's Palace
The Doge's Palace

The sun has gained the upper hand. It’s a gloriously warm May day. A huge cruise ship pushes its way into the port of Venice and vomits a heap of day-trippers. In 2013, the city counted 4.25 million tourist arrivals; ten years later, the figure is already 5.66 million. In the last twenty years, the number has more than doubled. How can a city deal with this when it is so dependent on tourism at the same time?

We stroll along the southern shore of the main island, Centro Storico. It’s a little quieter here. It’s easy to lose your orientation in the maze of alleyways. We order lasagne and wine for lunch. The lasagne is small and dry, the wine sour and tasteless. The price is too high. We have seen Venice. At least its façade. Venice is no longer a place where people can live and work. Where they want to raise their children or start a family in the first place. Venice is a Disneyland, a place for tourists. Luxury boutiques and souvenir stores have taken up permanent residence in the historic buildings. The city has sold its soul to cruise lines and is now paying the price: environmental destruction, overtourism, exploding property prices.

We have not found the true Venice, the Venice of its inhabitants and people. Perhaps it no longer even exists.

Boat in Venice
Abbazia di San Giorgio Maggiore
Canal in Venice

We are tired from all the walking on the last evening. Heavy clouds have gathered. We have settled down in Piazza San Marco with a bottle of wine from the supermarket. The day tourists have returned to their cruise ships and the cruise ships have gone out to sea. The threat of rain has driven the remaining people into their homes and hotels. A wind picks up and the streets are deserted. Just as we open our umbrellas as a precaution, the downpour starts. A warm, heavy rain falls on Venice. It’s still a long way to the hotel. There’s not much space under the umbrella – we both get wet. The street lights are reflected in the puddles and in the water of the canals; the city shimmers bluish-gold in the evening light. So lonely and so empty, Venice is a real gem.

Info about our trip