, only to realise that I am the only local on board.' Daniela, a guide at a major Venice landmark, has a similar problem. From her home on the Lido, she has to cross the lagoon to get to work. 'I often have to miss successive boats because of the sheer number of tourists. They cluster at the jetties, on bridges and down narrow alleys. They don't seem to realise that locals also need to use the city.' In fact, says Venetian entrepreneur Emanuele Dal Carlo, 'visitors are often surprised to find that there are residents in Venice.' Dal Carlo's Fairbnb aims to promote a more sensitive, more aware mode of travel. In the lagoon city he finds himself up against the fall-out from what he describes as a decades-long lack of image management on the part of successive local administrations. 'It's a problem of narrative,' he says. 'When it's not being defined by its problems – sinking, flooding, overcrowding, high costs – Venice is presented as a postcard city, a city of selfies and perfect Instagram posts. Ironically, it has never been sold as a 'city of culture'.' The result? The majority of visitors){kind=link}
Fed-up Venice locals, outnumbered ten to one by tourists, reveal the reality of living and working in such a popular holiday destination
Venice is synonymous with over-tourism. In 2019, before Covid struck, the annual number of visitors to this extraordinary huddle of islands – home to just 50,000 residents – exceeded three and a half million. This year is on track to surpass that.
It’s difficult to imagine a place less suited to a mass onslaught. Narrow streets, intractable topography, infinite transit complications due to thoroughfares being full of water: for residents, finding their ‘highways’ choked with visitors – whether hopelessly lost or doggedly following GPS directions – makes simple everyday activities such as going to work or picking up groceries for dinner a herculean task.
“The situation is completely abnormal,” says Michela Scibilia, a graphic designer and long-time resident of Venice. “We find ourselves outnumbered 10 to one. I don’t know how many times I’ve taken a packed vaporetto (water bus), only to realise that I am the only local on board.”
Daniela, a guide at a major Venice landmark, has a similar problem. From her home on the Lido, she has to cross the lagoon to get to work. “I often have to miss successive boats because of the sheer number of tourists. They cluster at the jetties, on bridges and down narrow alleys. They don’t seem to realise that locals also need to use the city.”