Aqua Alta

Aqua Alta

On Monday December 1st 2008 I went to Venice by train heading to my art studio. When I arrived, there was an unusually intense crowd at the station. People were frantic and many were wearing knee high, bright yellow plastic bag gaiters and making scraping noises with their hard plastic soles. I walked out of the station to find that the water level had risen nearly to its very steps. In fact the train station appeared to be the only thing above water! It was cold but there was a slight balmy breeze. The warm Saharan northerly Sirocco winds were contributing to the high water level. Many people were sitting on the steps, floored, jaws dropped. Loud comments of disbelief were heard in every language. The locals kept saying they had not seen this in forty years. There was a cheery school out because of bad weather atmosphere. Everything was stopped. The time space continuum seemed to have warped.

I sat there in the bright morning light and just stared to what used to be the square in front of the train station. The vaporetto service (water bus) was stopped because the boarding platforms had floated up so high that the decks were unreachable; boats could not fit under bridges and the access to the docks was submerged.

Many tourists were having a blast. Huge photo opportunity with bright colored plastic bag boots in knee deep water. A guy with a huge backpack simply decided to get into the water with his hiking boots and jeans. He was walking around dazed taking pictures. Another guy took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, put on his flip flops and started walking in what had now become the lagoon. Women were carried piggy back style by men with rubber boots. A lucky few had their hip high gaiters on and were laughing at the less fortunate. A tall police man walked by with waist high fishing gaiters appearing totally in control. Photos were taken in every conceivable pose. It was a great people watching moment.

Elevated walkways were set from the station to other parts of the city. They are narrow, only one person each way at a time. They were so packed with those who had decided to stop staring and venture into the waters, that they had become a static line. The Scalsi Bridge was full with people who after reaching its summit cowered at seeing the depth of water they would have to jump into on the other side.

At no other time was heavy luggage a worse idea. Not to mention that it never is in Venice. I can say that your degree of Venice enjoyment is inversely proportional to the size of your luggage. The bigger it is the worst time you will have, for unless you can a afford a 100 euro 15 min taxi ride to your hotel, you will have to haul that thing up and down bridges, narrow streets, irregular terrain and now even knee deep water. I think people with big bags should consider getting a train station locker and leaving most of their stuff there. I will digress to say children under ten are probably not a good idea either. Strollers can't make it up or down steps so couples have to literally carry the heavy thing up and down bridges. There is a lot of walking and the entertainment is mainly museums and churches. Venice is not a kid friendly place. The handicap access is also a nightmare.

Getting back to Aqua Alta; I called my art school from the steps and they said the place was completely flooded. School was out. Toilets were overflowing (something most water cavorting tourist seem to be completely unaware of), soaked furniture, soaked art, wet paper, water needing to be mopped up. I called my art studio landlady, place also flooded in knee deep water. Luckily she got there in time to rescue my drill and most of the stuff that was laying low.

Normally Aqua Alta occurs when the tide surge reaches 110 cm. Today, the water level peaked at around noon with 156 cm; way beyond normal. It was the fourth highest Agua Alta ever. A lot of people have suffered severe damages and loses: wet carpets, wet furniture, soaked documents, fried appliances, etc.
The next day there was more Aqua Alta. I was finally able to make it to my studio on Wednesday and I was impressed to see on the way that most of Venice looked like nothing had happened. In fact it looked better given that the water had cleaned the streets. My studio looked fine. The owner had gotten all the water out and the place was spotless. I was amazed at the engineering wonder that allows Venice to be a truly amphibian town.

As I walked to lunch in my neighborhood, I started to notice more of the aftermath: businesses clearing out ruined merchandise, moving furniture, drying floors, refrigerators ruined by water seeping into their motors, TV's lying on the street like corpses. The damages only make worse the tanking world economy gloom. On the one hand Venice looks like water slid off its duck back. On the other, the Venetians look as uncomfortable as wet cats. Although the old timer guys from the vegetable boat outside my window continued to joke loudly in dialect, and there was an air of renewal typical of the aftermath of destruction, the inhabitants have to deal with yet another test to their faith and love for the serenissima (most serene).

My art teacher said that when she walked into her flooded old Venetian family house her despair was only equaled to what she felt as a child in World War II when pigs destroyed every single one of her dolls. Pigs were kept in a pen on the terrace to cope with food shortages. She was playing classroom teacher nearby with all her and her sister's dolls. She got away from the spot for a while and when she got back she found the pigs had gotten to the dolls and destroyed all of them. Only now she is not a little girl anymore and her mom is no longer around to hold her.