Notes from the North

I am halfw ay through a month-long stay in Venice, comfortably settled in a small flat overlooking the Campo de le Becarie which is right by the mercato del pesce, the fishmarket,  a nd fifty yards from the erberia, the fruit and vegetable market. By early afternoon the fish stalls are empty. Only a few piles of ice are still melting back into the flagstones and the men are out with their hoses and brooms, leaving only a raw, watery smell hanging in the air. It is reassuring to hear that the fish come mostly from the deep waters of the Adriatic and not from the polluted, shallow waters of the lagoon. Venice doesn’t stink these days although the city still relies heavily on the ‘gatoli’, the centuries-old system of underground tunnels which take waste water and human excrement from the houses into the canals.  Twice a day the canals are flushed out by the high tides and the waste sinks into the mud of the lagoon. Despite the enormous increase in human traffic and industry the s...