Last Wednesday I got to the end of a planned lesson with
some time to spare and I was beginning to run out of ideas so I asked my group
to tell me about the festival in Venice (many of the students live in Venice
and had attended the morning events before work.) I knew that the festival of the Madonna della
Salute was happening as we spoke but hadn’t thought about it too much or
intended to go given that it was a ‘school’ night and that I had been once
before. My students started to tell me
about the festival and the one thing they kept emphasising was that the
festival wasn’t simply a Venetian festival but it’s “our festival.” As if the Venetians; having lost so much of
their city (and their quality of life) to uber tourism have managed to keep
this one thing for themselves, something which they are loath to give up.
The festival of the Madonna della Salute was, as my students
informed me instituted in the 16th century. Venice had been delivered from a devastating
outbreak of the Plague and in thanks built a church dedicated to the
Madonna. The church is unique in that
every statue adorning the facade depicts a female saint (a fact that my
students were very impressed that I knew.)
During the festival a bridge of boats is built across the Grand Canal to
the church. On the morning of the
festival there is a procession from St Marks to the church for a service then
throughout the day people visit the church to light a candle and then walk
across the temporary bridge and make their way to St Marks.
There wasn’t much of this story that I didn’t know but I had
forgotten one important fact which when I was reminded meant that I simply had
to go to Venice that night. That
something was frittelle. A frittella is
dough that is deep fried and then covered in a mix of lemon juice and sugar and
is a delicious as it sounds. Carnivale
has its own version which comes in a ball and is only available for those few
weeks of festivities in February outside of Carnivale they are flat. I hadn’t had a frittella since the end of
Carnivale and couldn't wait until February for another one so as soon as five o’clock
hit I hot footed it to Venice.
When I arrived I
could immediately see why my students had called it “our festival.” For once Venice seemed full more with
Venetians rather than tourists and students.
Whole families were out not only to visit the church but to enjoy their
city. As I made my way to the church I
made small detours to some of my favourite places. The little bars were doing a roaring trade in
spritz, cicchetti, and conversation. The
evening had the chill of impending winter meaning everybody was wrapped up warm
and the bars looked more inviting than ever.
The whole atmosphere of the place was different and I remembered this
was how it was when I fell in love with it a few years ago.
When I got to the church the festivities were coming to an
end, the whole place smelt of candle wax and all the attendants hands were
covered in the same. As the final
sermons were being spoken I headed out to the street selling nuts, dried fruits
and other festival delicacies and got myself the biggest frittella I could
find. Mission accomplished I headed back
home – with a brief stop for a spritz with a friend.
For me Venice is now at her best, the crazy hoards are gone
and the icy cold winds are yet to start.
The autumn fog makes the city look magical and walking the empty streets
is a joy. In the last few weeks I've been spending increasing amounts of time in
Venice and of late J has joined me for the odd night out – she’s very impressed
that you can still have dinner and a few drinks in the city for 10 Euros. Having Venice so close does mean that it
becomes - if you can believe it – one of the mundane things in your life. It’s good to have moments like these to
remind me how special it is and how lucky I am to know it so well.
I can imagine this! :-)
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