Camera Leica M4 Lens : Elmar C 90mm f4 Film : Ilford HP5+ Developer : Ilford ID-11
One of the most common sights in Venice is a tourist reading a Venice street map.
One of the most common frustrations in Venice is the realisation that Venice street maps don’t include the names of all Venice streets.
One of the most common discoveries in Venice is that Venice street maps almost certainly will not include the name of the street, square or bridge that you’re currently standing in / on or trying to find.
The gentleman in the photograph walked past us as we were sitting at lunch, or rather, as we were sitting at lunch and I was viewing passers-by and mentally categorising them into “people I would like to photograph” or “uninteresting” (and therefore not worth my expenditure on film materials). He had been placed firmly in the former. However, lunch on holiday is a leisurely affair and I hadn’t expected to see him again, given the time between the first sighting and the end of the food.
It was a pleasant surprise, then, to see him again just a couple of hundred yards away from the restaurant. Standing on a small bridge, map open, looking first in the direction he’d just come from, then in the direction he was heading, then at the map, then at the name of the bridge fixed high on the wall of the adjacent building. This cycle was repeated several times while I watched. I stood at the foot of the steps of the bridge and took two photographs of him during the repetitions. He seemed, like so many in the medieval maze that is Venice, to be lost.
I moved up the steps and stood opposite him, intending to take at least one shot with a wider-angle lens. At this point he noticed me and, apologising for getting in the way of my photograph, ducked and walked down the steps on the other side of the bridge. I followed him and asked if the needed help. “Are you offering to help me?” he asked. I noted his accent and thought that he might be German or Austrian. “Well, I know that the Rialto Bridge is in that direction and the Railway Station is that way,” I said, indicating the relevant directions with a wave of my hand. “They are the two most prominent landmarks on this street.”
“I’m trying to find the name of this bridge,” he said. His English was excellent. “I have been in two restaurants, one was good, one was bad. I want to tell my friends the name of the bad one so that they don’t go there when they arrive.” I wondered briefly whether he was going to include the name of the good restaurant in his advice, which I thought might have been more useful i.e. knowing where to get a good meal would be better than knowing where not to get a good meal.
“I’m from Switzerland,” he went on, “Have you been there?” “Only once, on business,” I said, “Many years ago. A very brief visit and no time for sight-seeing, I’m afraid,”. “I came here by canoe,” he said. My eyebrows rose involuntarily, “All the way from Switzerland?” “Yes,” he confirmed, “And every year I spend three months in Canada canoeing in the wilderness there. It’s much better in the wilderness if you are on your own.” Three months solo in the Canadian wilderness sounded even more impressive than the Switzerland to Venice trip.
We examined his German language Venice street map, but there was no clue as to the existence of the bridge where we stood, let alone its name. I took out my English language Venice street map (never leave home without it…). Again, no reference to bridge, street or canal could be found.
“When I left Switzerland and navigated here, the Pole was always the Pole,” he said. “I managed to make my way to Venice with a compass and a map of the sea. Canada’s wilderness is full of rivers and lakes, it’s easy to be lost. But the Pole is always the Pole. Now I’m standing here in Venice with a street map in my hand and I can’t find the name of this bloody bridge!”
We shared a few comments and laughed at this absurdity. “Thank you for helping me,” he said as we parted, reaching out to shake hands – although the grin we gave each other was in clear recognition of the useless nature of my contribution. “No problem,” I replied, “If you don’t ask questions, you’ll never learn anything!”
Regards
Eddie
