AccessMyLibrary provides FREE access to over 30 million articles from top publications available through your library.
Create a link to this page
Copy and paste this link tag into your Web page or blog:
The chic Quadri restaurant in Venice's Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark's Square is known for its signature saffron scallops, its baked gelato--and its Wellington boots. For much of the last year the restaurant's ground- floor cafe, patronized by dukes and countesses yesterday and celebrities today, has been flooded with seawater from the Adriatic. Manager Adriano Zirardi came up with the idea of handing out Wellies so diners could keep their Manolos dry as they sloshed their way to the tables upstairs. How bad does the flooding get? It's not uncommon for patrons to sip their cappuccinos standing knee-deep in water. "Sometimes the customers have fun with it," says Zirardi. "But for those of us who live and work in Venice, it is really kind of a nightmare."
Of course, amphibious living is not new to the Venetians. Their city has been slowly sinking for 1,500 years--a result of the rising Adriatic and the sagging ground on which the city was built. For centuries the floods have been eroding the foundations of Venice's 16th-century palazzos and threatening priceless art work with humidity and mold. But the last several seasons have been especially treacherous. Last year the vestibule of St. Mark's Basilica was ankle-deep in water for 250 days. The square outside flooded 50 times--setting off World War II air-raid sirens at each instance and forcing pedestrians to tiptoe, single file, along gangplanks. In the Christmas season the city endured an unprecedented 17-day state of emergency. It was so bad that after decades of procrastination, Italy is finally taking direct action to save Venice.
Starting this month, workers will begin physically raising St. Mark's Square by 10 centimeters--one cobblestone at a time. It's part of a plan to elevate Venice's flood-prone areas, and to fix the city's underground drainage system: the old network of pipes and gutters backs up when the floodwaters rise, sending a mix of sludge and dead rats gushing into the piazza. Although the project has a hefty price tag--about $21 million over the next four years--even its proponents admit it's a temporary fix at best. "It is meant to keep the tourists' shoes dry," says Anna Ranghieri of the Consorzio Venezia Nuova, a nationwide panel of engineering and construction firms tasked with saving the city.
It may not do even that. Recently, a group ...