On Tuesday, 12th November 2019, Venice was deluged by its second highest flood waters on record. At 187cm it was just short of the highest ever level of 194cm, recorded in 1966. Rarely occurring twice in the same year, in November 2019 the 'aqua alta' occurred five times in one week. No wonder Venetians are worried. Our four day break coincided with three of them. Unlucky or a unique experience? What’s it like to be there during ‘aqua alta’ and should you visit during the winter months?
Scouring the media all week for reports and forecasts for Venice and its ‘Acqua Alta’, we were determined to go away as planned. The weekend in La Serenissima was Kate’s special birthday with seven family members financially and emotionally invested.
Landing at Venice Marco Polo Airport, we discovered that today’s flood level was such that vaporetto stops were under water and taxis unable to operate. So it was lunch at Emporio del Grano, on the first floor (land side). Good food, beer, wine and no shortage of gallows humour made it easy to forget we hadn’t left the airport. It was mid-afternoon when the all-clear came. Lauren bought pull-over plastic wellies from a departing passenger, the rest of us put ours on and we were good to go. The laguna was as choppy as It looked, the ride exhilarating. Our water taxi stayed right of Isola di San Michele, slowing significantly before bearing west along the city’s waterside. Entering the Canal de Cannareggio, it was a fascinating introduction as we passed various palazzi. Up ahead, the Grand Canal. Emerging opposite the Giudice di Pace and turning left, more vessels and increased activity elevated the sense of place. A museo on the right, a palazzo on the left, a casino. Jostling for a better view behind our driver, the rain meant we literally soaked up our first impressions. This is the way to enter Venice. Mercato di Rialto loomed on the right, the Ca’ d’Oro to the left. And our hearts soared as we exited the bend to see the Rialto Bridge ahead. Two minutes later, there was Roberto waiting for us at Sant’ Angelo.
Venice is far from cheap, but for this special birthday we’d pushed out the gondola. Our apartment had been booked all year and Roberto, our contact, had already been helpful in recommending restaurants and in arranging for a chef to cook for us on Saturday night. The ground floor of our building remained under a foot or so of water throughout the hall.
“I am sorry, the lift shaft in the basement is flooded, so no lift” Roberto announced. Don’t worry now - I have help for you.”
At which point a couple of strapping young Italian guys appeared and carried our luggage up the 92 steps - yes, I counted them. The fabulous apartment revealed more of itself over the weekend. Downstairs were five bedrooms and two very comfortable living areas with space for us all to lounge around in. The dining room, or red room as we called it, featured a long antique oak table and chairs. From our bedroom we could watch the ebb and flow of traffic on the Grand Canal. Spiral stairs led up to another bathroom before emerging into a long room at a right angle to the lounge. Refurbished with open beams, spacious seating and large windows affording views across to Santa Maria della Salute and other significant landmarks, it was a stunning space. The library of fine art books was matched only by the classical music collection, at the heart of which was a powerful music system. The huge speakers at the other end of the room hinted at its potential.
As the waters subsided we ventured out to find a supermarket. In the centre of Venice, space is at a premium, so they’re relatively small. Nearby, Punto Simply had a canal bridge leading solely to its doors. It was busy with Italians stocking up for the weekend. There were few tourists, most having cancelled in the light of world-wide weather warnings. Sadly the place we’d booked for dinner months earlier was flooded, likely to be out of action for some time. Along the narrow streets, shopkeepers chatted to passers-by and neighbours as they swept or pumped water out of their premises, some animated, some resigned to their problems.
La Feluca, in Calle della Mandola, looked good and they could fit us in. A few minutes walk, it proved an excellent choice. The menu was varied, food was of high quality, the service warm and friendly. It was as busy, noisy and lively as you want an Italian restaurant to be. It felt great to be in Venice. Back at the apartment, we drew lots over who had the oxygen first before scaling the 92 steps. Ventured up to the top floor, we settled down to Puccini’s Turandot at a rib-shaking volume. A few wooden steps led to a small rooftop terrace with panoramic views and, as midnight struck, we shivered silently, listening to the eery sound of the tidal flood warning.
Staggering out of bed next morning, pulling back the shutters revealed the Sant’ Angelo junction of the Grand Canal, looking down on the roofs of magnificent buildings, people walking by, assorted boats passing through. Simply life-affirming. The sun was out too. But what to do when so many popular visitor attractions were inaccessible? In St Mark’s Basilica, dating back to the 11th century, the crypt was flooded for the first time since 1966; water damage to the marble columns and gold leaf mosaic floor was said to be irreparable. The baroque church of St Moses and the city university, based in a 15th century Gothic palace, had been flooded. The Mayor of Venice called it “a disaster”. The local governor likened it to “a scene of devastation from the Apocalypse”. Instead of seeing, we’d just enjoy being. It helps if you’ve seen all the fabulous art and architecture before, but just being in Venice can be special enough.
“Coffee is a platonic academy…where no lessons are taught, but where one learns to socialise and to be enchanted. One can chat and gossip but it is forbidden to preach, lecture or instruct.” Claudio Magris (courtesy of Caffè del Doge)
The waterside route to the Rialto Bridge bustled with people. It was good to see places open for business, many still recovering from the water that continued to spill over the wide paths. Wellies remained de rigeur. In ‘Venice’, Jan Morris’ classic evocation of the city, she recalled that it wasn’t too long since many fashionable families liked to bathe in the Grand Canal and a notice near the Rialto warned passers-by that it was ‘Forbidden To Spit Upon The Swimmers’. Over the bridge, in the sestière of San Polo, we found the narrow Calle Dei Cinque and strolled down to Caffè del Doge. Packed with locals, we squeezed into a corner. In the early 17th century, Venetian merchants brought back the first bags of coffee. Initially very expensive, it was used as a medicine. In 1683 the first coffee house opened in Piazza San Marco, quickly followed by others throughout Venice as they became hugely popular as social meeting places. An artisan roasting plant was founded in 1952 on this site, making coffee called Caffè del Doge. Their coffee was very good and you’ve got to try a pastry or two. Just remember - if you want to avoid the ‘tourist’ label, no milk in your coffee after eleven. Yes, that means cappuccino too.
A short walk along Ruga Vecchia S. Giovanni, allowed some window shopping on our way to the fantastic fish market, where the traders looked out of sorts. They should have been busier. Tourists love taking photos of the mercato but they don’t cook fish. We’d have loved to have bought some to cook but, having hired someone, this would be the source of their fish. After mooching around Mercato di Rialto, we met up nearby for cichèti and a glass of wine outside Osteria Al Mercà, stood on the sunny campo. A cichèto, by the way, is essentially a small snack to be eaten with a glass of wine or a Spritz, invariably standing up. They’re best described by Polpo founder Russell Norman as “small plates of authentic Venetian titbits”. The rest of Italy spells it ‘cicchetti’, but let’s stick to the Venetian dialect. The Al Mercà occupies a very small space but follow the crowd. The Spritz is popular here and, whilst there’s not a wide choice of food on offer, their little crusty panini are made with the best of fillings. Try the cheese - their next door neighbour is Casa del Parmigiano, the city’s most famous cheese shop.
If you can get a table, try Osteria Alle Testiere about six minutes walk from the Rialto. They only decide what the menu is after visiting the market. Some people say they serve the best food in Venice and as they include Russell Norman, Rick Stein, Angela Hartnett and novelist Donna Leon, who am I to argue?
Joel went solo for some culture, crossing the Grand Canal on a traghetto, a sort of unadorned gondola, and we were proud to see him standing up, like the locals. We later crossed in one and went strolling on a lovely route starting in Cannaregio, walking on to Castello. Amongst a surfeit of beautiful buildings and churches, we stopped awhile at a bar in Campiello Bruno Crovato and sat outside for a drink and another nibble, chatting with the owners about the floods and Venice in general. By the time we reached the Chiesa di Santa Maria Dei Miracoli, Joel had rejoined us. According to Time Out, this is “arguably one of the most exquisite churches in the world”. We wouldn’t dispute that, it looked and felt special. It was built in the 1840s to house a miraculous image of the Madonna that had reputedly revived a man who’d been under water in the Giudecca Canal for half an hour; and cancelled out all traces of a knife attack on a woman. Look out for the Lombardos’ delicate carvings on the steps, balustrade and columns.
You’re never far from somewhere to eat or drink in Venice, which was lucky - despite all that grazing we needed lunch. From Santa Maria, cross the canal and walk along Fondamenta del Piovan, over another bridge and next to the canal is El Magazen Ristobacaro. They specialise in cichèti, fish, risotti and other types of Venetian dishes. They’re committed to sustainability too, upcycling local items such as the wooden poles planted in the lagoon to make their furniture.
In late afternoon Piazza San Marco was open, but little else. Four of us hoped to enjoy a hot chocolate at Caffè Florian, but alas it was not to be. It may be expensive but inside it’s like sitting in the 18th century. It was worth visiting for the extraordinary sight that is the basilica of St Mark’s, its magical domes and glistening mosaics. Passing the Doge’s Palace we walked along the waterfront to Hotel Monaco e Grande, where we had stayed twenty years earlier. It had flooded then too, causing breakfast to be served in bed. We remembered sitting in the bar each night before bedtime, looking across at the splendidly baroque Santa Maria Della Salute, shimmering across the lagoon as we sipped Strega. Tastefully and expensively modernised since then, it’s separated from Harry’s Bar by Calle Vallaresso, a street in which a credit card could be maxed out very quickly. We walked by Missoni, Saint Lauren, Dior, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Hermès, Prada, and Versace before trying to escape over a bridge but there was Gucci, Armani and more opulence.
Roberto arrived at seven with his friend the chef and another accomplice. Taking over the kitchen, they scrutinised our wine and felt one or two different bottles were required.
“Leave it to me” said Roberto.
Assuring us that all was under control, we stepped out for a cocktail. Conditions persuaded us to stay local so we simply walked to the Sant’ Angelo landing and the nearby Hotel Palazzo Barocci, not only enjoying cocktails but they kindly brought out a birthday cake! It wasn’t gluten-free but Kate did blow the candles out.
Back in the fabulous red room, we were served six courses of the most delectably
scrumptious food and wine.
It was epic. It featured shellfish and fish from the laguna, a sumptuous risotto and ended with a gorgeous pudding of stuffed dates. But it was the joy with which it had been prepared and served to us that made it so memorable. Finally, we all had a drink together before retiring to the periodically haunting sound of the flood alarm.
On Sunday, between high tides, we ventured out, swishing along streets that were noticeably deeper on the return leg. The Grand Canal was already encroaching over the paths. Watching the floods on TV, we grew bored and decided to take a peep outside. Our hall was under at least a foot of water. The large back door was open, revealing the canal outside to have risen half way up the large wooden door of the building opposite.
Heaving our front door open, we got through and toddled around in the water for a while before retiring inside. Except for John and Lauren, who managed to find a bar in which to watch the world float by. Their photos showed the water almost up to the window ledge. Later a few of us took the vaporetto across to San Tomà and took a short walk to the Chiesa di San Giovanni Evangelista. Sadly it had been flooded. We found a side door open, revealing many young volunteers sweeping and mopping out water. We offered to help but they were out of equipment and we had to leave. From what we saw, it looked hugely impressive.
That evening we took the vaporetto to the Accademia landing. Almost immediately we came upon Gallerie dell’ Accademia, a treasure trove of Venetian art. After a few more streets and bridges we walked alongside Rio de le Romite and found the waterside restaurant Antica Locanda Montin. The welcome was almost indifferent to begin with, but the head waiter was a dry, understated sort of guy who slowly worked his way into our hearts. Another lively atmosphere, I tried to imagine it in the summer, with its garden full of customers. The walls were crammed with art and photographs, some of customers. Not just any old customers. We’re talking John Ruskin, the artist Modigliani, President Jimmy Carter, Robert De Niro. And David Bowie must have felt like the Fat White Duke if he’d eaten like we did. Taking our order, the big man worked his charm on Joel by telling him Mick Jagger had once sat in that seat. I wondered if his online review showed that, for once, he’d actually got some satisfaction? The food was very good, particularly the steaks, the red wine was excellent and we had a ball.
It was a perfect finale. We’d be leaving after breakfast, acqua alta permitting. A few little snifters on the way back in a bar in Calle Pestrin, off Campo San Stefano, and that was that.
“Water equals time and provided beauty with its double.” Joseph Brodsky
Should you go to Venice at this time of year? Some think it’s the best time to visit, some wouldn’t come any other time. “I would never come here in summer, not even at gunpoint” wrote Joseph Brodsky.
The sight of a cruise liner dropping off thousands of sheep, following their guides to the places where they’ve got deals and investing very little in the city really needs to be banished. It’s particularly good to come out of season if you want to see its art and other treasures. Whatever time you come, keep away from the big tourist traps - like the restaurants around St Mark’s and other top destinations, where less than average pizza, pasta and Prosecco may leave you feeling ripped off and peed off. Be prepared to explore, Venice has beauty even in the most unexpected tiny side streets. And do try eating and drinking in the bàcaro, those small bars in backstreets and smaller squares where you can have a reasonably priced drink and cichèto, alongside Venetians.
I’m conscious that we used AirBnB to find somewhere that seven of us could be together for a special occasion, but it’s important to be aware that it’s not just the massive cruise liners that threaten the future of the city. As more property is bought up for holiday accommodation, prices are driven up and more Venetians - the lifeblood of the city - are driven out as homes are increasingly unaffordable.
Venice is almost indescribably beautiful and, if you’ve never been, you should make a vow to go. It’s hard to imagine a city built on water, but that’s an intrinsic part of its appeal. Take a water taxi from the airport if you can. The gradual build-up as you see the majesty of the city, the buildings coming closer, then moving from open sea to canal. Just wonderful. Otherwise, for a quick introduction, take a number 1 vaporetto - this water bus travels the length of the Grand Canal slowly and takes in some of the most beautiful and recognisable sites. Of course, if you go in November, your wellies could be your best friend. Waders? Look, if it’s too deep for wellies I’d suggest you’re safer staying inside until it’s subsided - in a good bar perhaps?
