So, as I anticipated in buy stromectol scabies online, yesterday I had the opportunity to take a long walk across Venice, since I had to go to the university to act as Chairman of a “commissione di laurea”, sitting in front of a computer and connecting telematically with the students who were discussing their dissertations and with the other members of the commission – all connected from their homes. Fortunately the technology all worked very well (thanks to our skilled and helpful technicians at Ca’ Foscari), and, despite the sobering circumstances, the students discussed and defended their work with enthusiasm and were clearly moved to be finally declared “dottori magistrali” – with the promise that at some point there will be a ceremony more suited to the dignity of the occasion.
However, this post is really about the surreal walk I was enabled to make through the city (equipped with a justificatory certificate in case I was stopped), on a beautiful day in early spring. As I live in the easternmost tip of the city, Sant’Elena, my walk took me all the way down the lagoon-front to St Mark’s Square, and from there through the sestiere of San Marco to the Accademia Bridge; I then wound my way up through Dorsoduro via Campo San Barnaba to Ca’ Foscari. The session was actually held in the large 1930s building of Rio Novo, just across the canal from Ca’ Foscari – officially the Fire-Station, which has leased some of its space to the university. (I’ve never understood why the Fire Service needs such a huge building, the largest from the Fascist period in Venice.) After the session was over I walked back the other way, making my way northwards to the Rialto Bridge and then down the Merceria back to St Mark’s Square.
In normal times, on a sunny day in March, I would have been elbowing my way through teeming hordes of tourists; the Rialto Bridge can sometimes take a couple of minutes to cross, particularly if one chooses the side-paths, with the view of the Grand Canal. This time there were two other people on the Bridge. But I’ll let the photos speak for themselves. A beautiful walk but also desolante…
Yes, an amazing thing to see, but we have to hope it won’t last. Thanks for your comment.
I suppose that on the plus side you are seeing Venice in a way that has never been possible. Stay safe!
Yes, we have to find a silver lining! thanks for commenting.
It feels like a pause in time – a cleansing and a time for reflection and retrospection before busy and chaotic life takes over again. Lovely to see the beauty of Venice without the hordes of tourists. Thank you for sharing these beautiful photos in this surreal time.
Thank you, I’m glad you like them. It was a privilege to see Venice without tourists – but also a very sad sight. There has to be a balance in tourist numbers between suffocation and desolation.
Wow. A dream come true in the worst of a nightmare.
That’s a very effective way of putting it.
So beautiful yet so sad.
Thanks for looking in, John. Yes, extremely sad.
Beautiful but desolate. Like some science fiction fantasy. Rare and wonderful photos that will become classics.
Thanks, Janet. Science-fiction is probably right. Let’s hope there is a happy ending at some point…
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you. I’m glad you liked them.
Thank you so much, Gregory, for sharing your walk and photos. I love Venice and know the city well as I have been visiting for many years, staying at Pensione Accademia. How strange to see the city without thousands of people. I wish all of you there to stay safe and well. This too shall pass.
Thank you, Diana. The Accademia is a very nice hotel, with a lovely garden; I hope you’ll be able to come back soon. Thanks for your comment. As you say, this too shall pass – “andrà tutto bene”…
All shall be well…
Stunning, as in, I’m stunned. Your other readers aptly captured many of the emotions that came up for me when viewing your photos. Thank you for sharing these.
And thank you, for your kind remarks!