Venice: Behind the mask

Going to Venice for Carnival, which runs in the two weeks up to Shrove Tuesday in the first quarter of the year, is an experience to savour.

The festival in the city famed for inspiring romance is a great antidote to the trappings and trudgery of the tourist.

Yet at first glance, this doesn’t look to be so.

Getting off the boat near Piazza San Marco is nothing short of a nightmare at any time. But during Carnival, when the whole world has donned masks of varying originality and tackiness, it’s even worse.

As a consolation, at least no-one can detect your irritation at the crush once you’ve donned the veil of your overpriced accessory.

However, for all the miseries of following the tourist trail, the Venetian Carnival can still offer a path less travelled.

At least, that is, for those willing to search for it. Or, more likely, hang around.

As the night goes on, and the temperature plummets (rid yourself of any misconceptions that a Mediterranean climate is a guarantee of year-round warmth), the crowds fade (slightly) and the streets become easier to roam.

Venice at dark is never going to disappoint, but during Carnival as the masses gradually patter away, the streets become renewed.

There’s clearly something about not having to sharpen your elbows to walk around that makes the place that much more enjoyable.

Roaming the streets, which a few hours ago were as congested with people as the waterways are with gondolas, quickly becomes an experience to remember (where just before it was a battle to forget...).

That’s not to say that the narrow thoroughfares of the city are suddenly empty. Far from it. The countless squares of the city are still thronged with people, but where before they may have sought to get that vantage point, seeing one another as the sole obstacle in the way of that Facebook photo, everyone is now united by a goal of enjoying themselves.

Indeed, rather than looking to tick off the Venetian Carnival from the ubiquitous and ensnaring ‘50 things to see before you die’ lists, tourism returns to something more fun – Venetians and tourists mingle together and sound systems are dragged outside, brought there without profit in mind (a thing to savour in Venice).

Admittedly the prices of drinks and food remain fairly extortionate, as do the sorry-looking wares left over on the stalls, but this is Venice after all, and it wouldn’t be the same if one didn’t have to keep an eye on where the nearest cash machine might be.

Even so, conversation with Venetians, limited invariably elsewhere to bartering, becomes put at ease by the transformative power of the occasion.

Or maybe that’s just an over-indulgence of Spritz wine that helps it along the way.

After the pressures of the jostling crowds, it’s still possible to find a genuine sense of Venice beneath the veneer of the plastic masks.

For once, getting a feel for this timeless city need not mean digging deep into one’s wallet. The real Venice is just below the surface and brought to life by the excuse (for that’s what it seems to be) of Carnival.

In fact, don’t think too much about gaining an experience to remember, and you might just get one.

Carnival, which looks from the throngs of crowds during the day to be the typical tourist honey trap, may, by my reckoning at least, be the very opposite.

Although the event is certainly a magnet for visitors, it’s also crucially still a spectacle for Venetians.

It’s different then, from the misnomer of Fosters, the ‘authentic’ Australian beer which is scorned by every actual Australian person...ever.

The Venetian Carnival may draw up to 30,000 visitors a day, but it’s the people already there who make it.

I realise that in saying what I’ve said as a tourist, I risk looking a tad hypocritical. But maybe having two faces is just the effect of wearing a Venetian mask for too long. For in putting down the camera, avoiding the main spectacles of the day and finding out that it is the people behind the masks, not the ones behind the counters in the tourist shops, who make this event ‘Venetian’, it becomes possible to stray away from the much-trampled tourist path.

While the easiest temptation for a visitor to this festival might be to tick off the events of the day, it’s best to resist such tired, going-through-the-motions shows.

The so-called ‘Flight of the Angel’ is a case in point. It’s not quite up there with the biggest anti-climaxes on the European tourist trail – the Mona Lisa (almost as small as the postcard of it in the gift-shop), and the Astronomical clock in Prague (about as exciting as waiting on hold for the speaking clock to call in the new hour) – are probably in better contention for that dubious honour. But this comes pretty close.

It involves the most beautiful woman in Venice descending into Piazza San Marco. At the time as the ‘angel’ comes gracefully to earth, however, you’re too busy doing battle with the hordes around you to care too much.

What started with the hope to witness a once-in-a-lifetime show will probably just end in an unshakeable bad mood for the rest of the day.

My advice?

Steer clear of the masses during the day, spend time on a quieter outlying island – The Lido, for instance, which is both beautiful and deserted at this time of year – before making your way slowly over to the centre later on.

You’ll be infinitely more relaxed and ready to enjoy yourself than you might have been.

It’s only by taking your time, avoiding the rush and breaking clear of everyone else that you’ll enjoy Carnival.

If you get it right, you might just remember it forever...