Carnevale

Sunday morning from our apartment

Saturday was the first day of Carnevale.  We took a vaporetto to St. Marks to see what was happening and found a number of people braving the cold, some of them in costumes, and several announcers on the stage keeping up a steady patter.  But there wasn’t enough going on to hold us so we hopped another boat back to Rialto and Osteria alla Ciurma for bacala mantecato and spritzes, and then went to Do Spade for lunch.  Afterward we tried to walk around a bit, but it was just too arctic.  For a week now I had been hoping the weather would break and we would get at least a couple of nice days out of the 10 we were there, but we were running out of time and it wasn’t happening.  So we stayed in again in the evening, even though we were starting to go a bit stir crazy because there was nothing much to do there (the TV didn’t work and our internet connection was intermittent) and we were wasting our time in Venice, but it was just too damn cold to go out. 

A chilly night on Strada Nuova

In the morning we woke up to snow and an almost solid coat of slushy ice on the canal in front of our apartment.  When I looked out the window, my heart sank.  Our time in Venice was almost gone and we just could not get a break from the relentless cold.  Nonetheless we sucked it up and went out anyway, catching a boat to St. Marks for the ceremony of the Descent of the Angel.  A lot more people turned out for this and the square was almost packed, despite the snow and cold.  Many people had on costumes, most of them the traditional 18^th century style (the 18^th century was the height of Carnevale, when it went on for months, and entailed a lot of anonymous sex, which led to an epidemic of syphilis).  Without really understanding the background of the event, we nevertheless caught the excitement of the occasion as they shoved some poor girl out of the Campanile and she dangled there with her skirt blowing over her head in the frigid breeze some 300 feet above the pavement on a steel cable.  There was a lot of screaming and cheering as she slowly slid down the cable to the big stage.  But it was still extremely cold, so after the ceremony we took a boat back to Cannaregio and had lunch at a place across the canal from the entrance to our neighborhood.  Afterward we walked up the Rio de Spagna and actually had some gelato.  Given the cold, it was hard to get in the mood for it, but our departure date was approaching and I couldn’t leave without having had some.  Later, after dark, because it was our next to last night and we were sick of being cooped up in the apartment every night, we braved the frigid conditions and took a stroll down the Strada Nuova.  Maybe I was starting to get used to it but it actually didn’t seem that bad.  At least there was no wind.  We went into a shop and I bought Frieda a dress and a scarf.  Then we found a bar and had a couple of spritzes (a couple apiece, that is) and watched the people (some in costumes) come and go while Gotye and Avicii played on the sound system. 

The next day, Monday, was the best weather of the trip. It was the break we had been hoping for, the beginning of a warming trend that, sadly, came too late for us.   The sun was out, there was no wind, and it was so warm that I actually didn’t wear a hat.  It might have gotten close to 40 degrees.  We went back to the square, and this time the costumes were unbelievable, fantastic.  We had seen the crude, corny costumes on a par with Halloween in the States on Saturday, and the traditional 18^th century-style costumes on Sunday, but now we saw conceptual costumes that were dazzlingly creative, elaborate, and intricate, costumes that were thematic and some of which looked as though they had required many, many hours to conceive and execute, and maybe hours to don.  We stayed in the square all day and shot about 300 photos in an attempt to capture the magnificence and splendor of the masquerade, as well as the magic of the occasion layered onto the ubiquitous, everyday magic of Venice.  Frieda was so blown away by the artistry of the costumes she actually suggested that, despite all the discomfort and frustration we had been through on this trip and our vow to make the next winter trip to warmer climes, we return next year for the entire duration of Carnevale.  I looked at her like she’d lost her mind, yet I understood.  The color and grandiosity of the costumes evoked and amplified the unique enchantment of Venice, and brought us back under its spell.  

For more photos of the costumes of Carnevale, visit my Flickr page: http://www.flickr.com/photos/75896250@N06/sets/72157629536035111/