Letter from Venice: It is a freezing December morning in Venice. We are walking along a little calle (as a street in Venice is called), fortified by a decent cappuccino and on our way to the next tourist appointment, namely a look around the inside of a perfectly restored 17th century Venetian house at the Querini-Stampalia museum.
And then it happens. As we walk over one of Venice's 400 or so little canal bridges, we hear it quite clearly. Down below us in the rio (canal) a gondola goes by, complete with accordion player and impressively loud tenor. It might be freezing in December, but this guy is belting it out. In the gondola there are two seemingly well-satisfied, oriental tourists - they have seen it at the movies and now they are living it out, the Venetian dream.
Venice, of course, is like that. Or perhaps one should say, still like that. Despite everything, the magic of Venice survives, the magic of a city of beguiling beauty caught not only between land and sea but also between the twin demands of ensuring commercial survival while at the same time safeguarding its unparalleled cultural patrimony. Or put another way, the magic of a city with approximately 60,000 residents and 18 million tourists.
For those who have never been to Venice, there is only one word of advice - go visit it at the first opportunity. There cannot be that many places that deserve a "Must-See-Before-You-Die" tag, but Venice quite clearly is one. December, despite the cold, is a good time to go since it is one of those rare Venetian moments when there are relatively small numbers of tourists around.
To be in Venice on a warm summer's day is to find yourself stuck in an unending, human traffic jam. In December, however, the cold, the grey sky and the mist all add to the magic of this mysterious place.
For many, Venice conjures up images of gondolas, San Marco, the Rialto and the Grand Canal - in short images of breathtaking beauty. Yet, Venice also prompts images of a decaying city in seemingly permanent crisis, an image that every now and then is reinforced by some terrible disaster. Remember the burning down of the city's famous opera house, La Fenice, 11 years ago. It prompted the great Italian conductor Riccardo Muti to express his frustration, shame and embarrassment when he publicly asked just how did a theatre in the centre of a city famous worldwide for being built on water manage to burn down "because water couldn't be found to put the fire out". That unhappy event is behind Venice now. At one point in our ramblings last week, we came round the corner to the welcome sight of the revamped and restored Fenice, apparently doing very good business indeed.
Yet, Venice remains an intractable sort of place. How else do you explain the delays that have bewitched the building of the city's "fourth bridge" over the Grand Canal. Designed by the Catalan architect Santiago Calatrava, this project was first announced in 1996, and funding of approximately €4.5 million was awarded by the Venetian municipal authorities in May 1999.
Yet when you pull into Piazzale Roma, the arrival point for most visitors, you find the bridge - still unfinished and still apparently under construction. Complex problems regarding the feasibility of the project, the strength of the bridge, its impact on the canal bank and Lag- una floor, not to mention an expensive row between builders and suppliers, have all caused huge delays with the project.
All of Venice seems permanently under threat. One night last September bits of the facade of one of the city's most famous buildings, the Palazzo Ducale or Doge's Palace, just fell off, plummeting straight into the canal below. Earlier this month, divers pulled no less than 19 bits of marble that belong to the palazzo's facade out of the canal.
The divers had been sent down by the magistrate called to investigate the collapse. His problem, however, will be to work out whether the bits of marble relate to this most recent incident or any of a number of earlier ones.
Quite literally, Venice is, and for some time has been, falling apart.
In what other major European city do you see warning notices about the high tide on the town walls, explaining to citizens that three grades of sound alarms will ring out according to the state and height of the "aqua alta" (high tide flood)?
Where else, too, do you see ground floor houses advertised with the comforting assurance that the house is "esente dal alta marea" (safe from the high tide)?
Perhaps it is a good thing that the city's current mayor Massimo Cacciari is a philosopher by profession. So much has to be taken philosophically in Venice, including the mayor's most recent and provocative declaration that the future of Venice lies on "terra firma". That was a reference to the nearby town of Mestre and to the shipyards and petrochemical complex at Marghera, all of which form part of "greater Venice" but which are studiously avoided by any right-minded tourist.
The mayor seemed to be suggesting that Venice could not live by tourism alone, but was he serious?
Yet, life in the centre of Venice costs nearly twice as much as on dry land. For those running a business, transport costs are doubled by the waterbound last leg of the journey through the canals. Business, too, can be stymied by the fact that even the most basic building or maintenance project may require up to 35 different approvals from various city hall offices.
In the end, only those in the tourist trade appear to thrive in Venice.
Not, mind you, that they are going to be crying into their calice (cup) this festive season in Venice. If all goes according to the plans of promoter Marco Balich, Piazza San Marco will be vying for a place in the Guinness Book of Records on New Year's Eve when 60,000 people are expected to take part in a massive "Kiss-In" in the famous square. Balich sees the event as one way of ensuring that images of Venice go worldwide on the night of December 31st.
Forget Venice? No danger of that.