How to survive Venice: Strategies for an over-touristed city - Part 2
By Leanne Kitchen
If you’ve ever been to Venice, you’ll understand how it gets under your skin. Sure, the crowds and tourist traps are annoying but if anyone has an overall ‘meh’ response to Venezia, I’d challenge them to locate their pulse. Srsly. You need to be fully dead to not appreciate this gorgeous place. And if you read Part One, you’ll have seen the scary stats around the average tourists-to-locals ratio and how the cramped streets can be off-putting. In 2023 civic activists put an electronic ‘tourist bed’ counter in the window of a small bookstore called Marco Polo and by April it registered 48,600; around 49,000 residents live in the historic core so you do the maths.
However I have a theory that in over-touristed places, 80% of the tourists crowd 20% of the places and sights, leaving the remaining 80% for the 20%. If that makes sense. In Venice, most tourists traipse the same predictable path from the train station over the Ponte Guglie, toward Via Vittorio Emanuelle and down the Strada Nova, then on to their target – Piazza San Marco. It’s a bit like a zombie invasion, albeit one with better quality conversation and more luggage than the usual. Avoid that well-worn path and you’re already way ahead of everyone else.
Residents do fight back against the rampant tourism and all that comes with it, in ways big and small. For over 30 years a civic group called Cittadini Non Distratti (‘Undistracted Citizens’) has patrolled the streets to shout loudly at anyone they suspect of theft. Some criticise their vigilante methods but, according to The Economist, the group is responsible for over a third of pick-pocketing arrests in the city. Another group called The Angels of Decorum tackles boorish tourist behaviour like the dipping of toes in canals, not wearing a t-shirt, or eating in undesignated areas – the fines can be up to €500. Just don’t do these things.
Smaller signs of protest are evidenced in written warnings like “No cappuccino with chiccetti!’ on bacari windows, or the one my fave restaurant Antiche Carampane proudly displays, advising that there’s “No pizza, no lasagne, no menù turistico.“ ‘Respect Venice’ signs are everywhere, prohibiting sitting on bridges or church steps. You soon get the message. That the city is not Disney-fying without a fight is heartening – it’s still a real place, if you care to find the realness. Here’s Part Two of how I attempted to do this on a recent visit.
7. I stuck to local favourite bacari (bars) for cicchetti: Pronounced “chi-KET-tee”, this word from Venetian dialect literally means ‘small quantity’ and cicchetti are a bit like tapas. Expect assortments of crostini, panini, tramezzini (the soft, crustless white bread sandwiches of your wildest dreams), polpette (fried meat, tuna, cheese or potato balls), and even boiled egg with anchovy or baby octopus on a toothpick. Salumi, prosciutto, white anchovies, grilled or fried vegetables and seasonal seafood are common crostini toppings. Not terribly expensive, they can make a satisfying early dinner if you eat enough of them – it’s the done thing to crawl from bar to bar. My favourite bars were Vino Vero, All’ Arco, Salvmeria, Bar Alla Toletta, Al Timon, Cantina Do Spade and Arcicchetti Bakaro. Can you tell I ate a lot of chiccetti and drank a bit too much? Bakaro was maybe the most fun of all, with its hole-in-the-wall vibes, €1 cicchetti, and smiling, chatty service. I wished I’d had time for Al Merca, a beloved and tiny local bar (so small you have to eat and drink canal-side) near the Rialto Market, known for a brilliant selection of Veneto wines and killer little panini. Next time. (Oh and ‘next time’ too for Torrefazione Cannaregio, the only coffee roaster in the city. Somehow I totally missed it but if you’re off to Venice, please swoop by and report back).
8. I became a spritz snob: Ordering a Select spritz to go with cicchetti, not an Aperol or Campari one, is the truly Venetian move to make; the spritz wasn’t invented in Venice but it was perfected here. And Select is the Venetian brand of the bitter herbal aperitivo that’s an essential spritz ingredient. FYI a typical Select spritz is 3 parts Prosecco, 1 part Select and 1 part chilled soda, garnished with a green olive, if you want to give it a crack at home. Aperol is sweeter and comes from nearby Padua, while Campari is Milanese. Cynar, flavoured with artichoke leaves and originating from the south, is another bitter aperitif option for spritz. If you prefer wine, and the local ones are excellent, order them by the ombra so you can sample a few. Literally meaning ‘shadow’ or ‘shade’, it’s become the word Venetians use for a small (100ml) glass of wine. Legendarily, drinking an ombra is linked to the bell tower of St Mark’s, because the square was once filled with wine vendors who’d use the tower’s shadow to help keep their wine cool. Over time “let’s drink in the shade” morphed into “let’s go get a shade” and the ombra was born.
9. I went to a Vivaldi recital at Chiesa di San Vidal: Which I worried would be a robotic for-tourists only affair, but I couldn’t have been more off base. Interpreti Veneziani, who performed, were absolutely world class and put every ounce of their juices into the evening. It was the best €25 I could’ve spent. The audience was a mix of tourists and locals, and the church venue was incredible (complete with a Carpaccio altarpiece… that’s a Renaissance artwork not a plate of raw beef, BTW). The composer was born in Venice and there’s something perfect and poetic about hearing his music in his hometown. If baroque music isn’t your gig, keep eyes peeled for other performances while you’re in town; there’s always something happening. I just missed Mozart’s Requiem at the glorious Scuola Grande di San Rocco by one day, dammit.
10. I walked everywhere: Except, of course, to Murano and Burano. I’m not Jesus. The vaporetto (water buses) are easy to navigate but the entire city is walkable and you see so much from the street. Architectural and other details abound; it pays to keep looking up so you notice absolutely everything. Oh and to look down too so you don’t tumble into a canal. I can see that happening. Did you know that Venice has 160 canals and 237 open spaces? Piazza San Marco is the largest of these; then there are 102 campi, or squares, and 124 campielli, or tiny squares. There are tons of corners to discover. I covered 20km some days and developed a blister or two; when I got too hot, I’d decamp to an atmospheric church, sit, and enjoy the cool. And the invariably gorgeous interior. It’s worth knowing that Venice has delicious and safe drinking water, and that the city is dotted with 142 communal drinking fountains. They’re old, so only about half actually function and of those, some run continuously and others need a button pressed. Filling a reusable bottle, instead of buying bottled water, is a cheap and thoughtful way to stay hydrated.
11. I favoured the less block-buster sights over the heavy hitters: And I know, I know. Cancelling my Skip-The-Line St Mark's Basilica and Doge Palace Tour was maybe dumb but I got so much out of being practically alone in the Gallerie dell'Accademia on a Saturday morning, visiting the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, being one of a few at each of the Palazzo Grimani, Palazzo Ca’d’Oro and Palazzo Fortuny, I didn’t care. The St Mark's Square stuff (including the famed Cafe Florian – I literally stuck my nose in to admire the lovely interiors, then left) will be there for next time. Hopefully. Venice is, after all, sinking. (Plus,in July 2023, UNESCO recommended Venice go on the endangered list, citing overtourism. But it’s safe to say, judging from how relatively empty many of the museums and galleries were, it’s not cultural tourism that’s got Venice by its short and curlies. It’s the selfie-taking type that’s killing it).
12. I did not take a gondola ride: No judgement on anyone who does. At around €100 for 30 minutes and with most of the gondoliers looking incredibly bored with their lot (again, zero judgement; I’d probably get bored too), it didn’t appeal. The rate is for the entire boat by the way, not per person. So if there are more of you (maximum of 5), the cost is not so bad. I preferred to spend my dosh on beautiful Murano drinking tumblers and I’m so glad I did. They’re gorgeous. As an aside, Murano glass is not necessarily any cheaper on Murano, the island famous for glass blowing. But if you’ve got cash to spare and want pieces that are really special and by known artists, it's worth heading there to peruse the workshops and retail outlets. Otherwise, buy at any good shop around San Marco.
13. Nor did I cue for gelato at the vaunted SUSO: I preferred Gelateria Nico in Dorsoduro where, unique for a gelateria, you can take a table overlooking a canal and indulge with a view. The gelato wasn’t as sexy-looking as the presentation at SUSO but it was still darned good. And hey. I was in Venice. Eating gelato. Nothing else really mattered. FYI I also sampled gelato at tiny artisanal Bacaro del Gelato, Gelato di Natura, and at Venchi, which is a mind-blowing chocolate store but does a cracking gelato too.
Click to read - How to survive Venice: Strategies for an over-touristed city - Part 1
Let’s go traveling…
