威尼斯——“伙計(jì)們,只需說(shuō)‘借過(guò)’,然后穿過(guò)去,”一個(gè)年輕的美國(guó)女人向朋友發(fā)出指令。“我們沒(méi)時(shí)間了!”他們被困在由觀光客組成的擁擠人潮中。在威尼斯,這人潮堵塞了狹窄的街道,讓美麗的廣場(chǎng)水泄不通,還迫使這座極具魅力的水上城市的許多居民離開(kāi)本島,踏上單調(diào)、干燥的陸地。
Neither, the Italian government worries, does Venice.
意大利政府擔(dān)心,威尼斯的時(shí)間也不多了。
Don’t look now, but Venice, once a great maritime and mercantile power, risks being conquered by day-trippers.
不應(yīng)馬上下結(jié)論,不過(guò),曾是偉大的海上霸主和商業(yè)中心的威尼斯,的確面臨著被一日游觀光客征服的危險(xiǎn)。
The soundtrack of the city is now the wheels of rolling luggage thumping up against the steps of footbridges as phalanxes of tourists march over the city’s canals. Snippets of Venetian dialect can still be heard between the gondoliers rowing selfie-snapping couples. But the lingua franca is a foreign mashup of English, Chinese and whatever other tongue the mega cruise ships and low-cost flights have delivered that morning. Hotels have replaced homes.
如今,當(dāng)游客的方陣在運(yùn)河上方的天橋上行進(jìn)時(shí),拉桿箱的輪子在臺(tái)階上滾動(dòng)跳躍的聲音便是這座城市的背景音樂(lè)。從那些劃著船,運(yùn)送著忙于自拍的情侶的船夫口中,你仍能聽(tīng)到零星的威尼斯方言。但通用語(yǔ)是一種外國(guó)語(yǔ)大雜燴,其中包括英語(yǔ)、中文,以及巨型游輪和廉價(jià)渡船那天早上運(yùn)送的游客說(shuō)的任何語(yǔ)言。居民的住宅已被酒店取而代之。
Italian government officials, lamenting what they call “low-quality tourism,” are considering limiting the numbers of tourists who can enter the city or its landmark piazzas.
意大利政府官員悲嘆于他們口中的“低質(zhì)量旅游”,正考慮限制可以進(jìn)入這座城市或其地標(biāo)式廣場(chǎng)的游客人數(shù)。
“If you arrive on a big ship, get off, you have two or three hours, follow someone holding a flag to Piazzale Roma, Ponte di Rialto and San Marco and turn around,” said Dario Franceschini, Italy’s culture minister, who lamented what he called an “Eat and Flee” brand of tourism that had brought the sinking city so low.
“如果你是坐大船抵達(dá)的,下了船,你有兩三個(gè)小時(shí),跟隨某個(gè)舉著小旗子的人前往羅馬廣場(chǎng)(Piazzale Roma)、里阿爾托橋(Ponte di Rialto)、圣馬可廣場(chǎng)(San Marco),然后就要往回走,”意大利文化部長(zhǎng)達(dá)里奧·弗蘭切斯基尼(Dario Franceschini)為他口中的快餐式旅游感到惋惜,這種業(yè)態(tài)已經(jīng)讓這個(gè)下沉的城市的情況變得愈發(fā)糟糕。
“The beauty of Italian towns is not only the architecture, it’s also the actual activity of the place, the stores, the workshops,” Franceschini added. “We need to save its identity.”
“意大利城鎮(zhèn)不僅美在建筑物,還在于當(dāng)?shù)氐膶?shí)際活動(dòng)、店鋪、工坊,”弗蘭切斯基尼繼續(xù)說(shuō)道。“我們需要保存它的特質(zhì)。”
The city’s locals, whatever is left of them anyway, feel inundated by the 20 million or so tourists each year. Stores have taken to putting signs on the windows showing the direction to St. Mark’s Square or Ponte di Rialto, so people will stop coming in to ask them where to go.
每年約有2000萬(wàn)名游客涌入威尼斯,讓這座城市的居民——不論還剩下多少——有被淹沒(méi)其中之感。各店鋪不得不往窗戶上放標(biāo)牌,指明圣馬克廣場(chǎng)(St Mark’s Square)或里亞爾托橋所在的方向,以免人們紛紛跑進(jìn)來(lái)問(wèn)路。
The majority of the anxiety has centered on the cruise ships that pass through the Grand Canal, blotting out the landmarks like an eclipse blocking out the sun.
擔(dān)憂主要集中在穿行于大運(yùn)河(Grand Canal)中的游輪身上,它們遮蔽著一處處地標(biāo),就如同月球的影子遮蔽著太陽(yáng)。
Some of the roughly 50,000 Venetians who remain in the city, down from about 175,000 in 1951, have organized associations against the “Big Ships,” selling T-shirts that show cruise boats with shark teeth threatening fishermen. In June, almost all the 18,000 Venetians who voted in an unofficial referendum on the cruise ships said they wanted them out of the lagoon.
這座城市里還剩下大約5萬(wàn)名威尼斯人——1951年的數(shù)字是17.5萬(wàn)——他們組織起對(duì)抗“大船”的協(xié)會(huì),還會(huì)售賣宣傳T恤,上面的圖案是帶有鋒利牙齒的游船向漁民發(fā)出威脅。今年6月有過(guò)一場(chǎng)關(guān)于游輪的非官方公投,參與投票的1.8萬(wàn)名威尼斯人幾乎全都表示,他們想讓游輪離開(kāi)泄湖。
“One problem is the ships,” said Franceschini, who called their passage in front of St. Mark’s Square “an unacceptable spectacle.”
“這些船真成問(wèn)題,”弗蘭切斯基尼說(shuō)。他把船只在圣馬克廣場(chǎng)前經(jīng)過(guò)的情形稱作“不可接受的景象”。
But the ships bring in money, and since Venice is not the trading power of yore, it needs all the euros it can get. The cruise ships don’t just bring fees into the city, they also create jobs down a whole supply chain, benefiting mechanics, waiters and water taxis. The gondoliers who change into their striped shirts early in the morning and put sunscreen on their bald heads have steady work.
但這些船會(huì)帶來(lái)金錢,威尼斯已經(jīng)不是昔日的貿(mào)易霸主,能掙到手的每一塊歐元對(duì)它來(lái)說(shuō)都很重要。游輪不只為這座城市帶來(lái)收入,還順著一整條供應(yīng)鏈創(chuàng)造著就業(yè)機(jī)會(huì),讓機(jī)修師、服務(wù)生以及水上的士司機(jī)獲益。那些一大清早就換好條紋襯衫、把防曬霜涂抹在光禿禿的腦袋上的船夫,擁有穩(wěn)定的客源。
Many of Venice’s locals reside in the Castello section of the city, far enough from San Marco Square, the center of tourist gravity, to enjoy a semblance of normal life. But only a semblance.
威尼斯本地人很多都住在該市的城堡區(qū)(Castello),一個(gè)離游客云集的圣馬可廣場(chǎng)足夠遠(yuǎn)的地方,以便過(guò)表面上還算正常的生活。但也只是表面上。
“If you want to get some prosciutto, you can’t because the salumeria is gone,” said Tommaso Mingati, 41.
“如果你想要買點(diǎn)火腿,是買不到的,因?yàn)槭焓车晗Я耍?rdquo;現(xiàn)年41歲的托馬索·明甘蒂(Tommaso Mingati)說(shuō)。
His family kept a small apartment here but, like most former residents, had moved out to Mestre, the mainland section that no one has ever called Queen of the Adriatic. As his mother regretted the city’s becoming a “Disneyland on the Sea,” Mingati said that the expanding empire of bed-and-breakfasts was now forcing people out of Mestre.
他家在這里有一套小公寓,但像大多數(shù)前居民一樣,已經(jīng)搬去了梅斯特(Mestre),沒(méi)有誰(shuí)會(huì)管那片內(nèi)陸區(qū)叫“亞得里亞海的明珠”。在明甘蒂的母親為這座城市變成“海上迪士尼樂(lè)園”感到遺憾之際,明甘蒂說(shuō),日益擴(kuò)張的客棧現(xiàn)在正迫使人們離開(kāi)梅斯特。
All of those bed-and-breakfasts, and the city’s roughly 2,500 hotels, produce a lot of towels and linens that need laundering. Venice no longer has the capacity for such an undertaking. So, at dawn, boats carry the dirty laundry and garbage out to Tronchetto, an artificial island and parking lot for trucks coming from the mainland.
所有這些提供床位與早餐的地方,以及該市的大約2500家酒店,出產(chǎn)了大量需要洗滌的毛巾和床單。威尼斯已經(jīng)沒(méi)有能力做這件事了。于是每到黎明時(shí)分,就會(huì)有船只將臟毛巾、臟床單和垃圾運(yùn)往特龍凱托島(Tronchetto),那是一個(gè)人工島,也是來(lái)自大陸的卡車停泊之處。
In turn, they deliver fresh towels but also untold gallons of drinking water, foodstuffs, bottles of orange Aperol to make the city’s ubiquitous Aperol Spritz and anything else consumed inside the lagoon.
回程時(shí),它們會(huì)載滿干凈的毛巾,還有大量飲用水、食品、一瓶瓶橙色的柳橙苦酒——用以制作該市隨處可見(jiàn)的雞尾酒Aperol Spritz——以及在這里用得上的其他任何東西。
One weekend a year, during the Feast of the Redeemer in July, Venetians take back the city. They flow back in from Mestre to drink wine on the banks of the Grand Canal and wait for a fireworks show that puts New York’s Fireworks by Grucci to shame.
每年7月的一個(gè)周末過(guò)救贖節(jié)(Feast of the Redeemer)的時(shí)候,威尼斯人都會(huì)拿回對(duì)這座城市的主導(dǎo)權(quán)。他們紛紛從梅斯特趕回來(lái),在大運(yùn)河邊喝葡萄酒,等待觀看一場(chǎng)會(huì)讓紐約的格魯西煙花公司(Fireworks by Grucci)感到汗顏的煙花秀。
This year, the celebration coincided with the Venice Biennale, which draws thousands of sophisticated, globe-trotting visitors to Venice to check out the latest in art, dance and theater. The locals and the art enthusiasts have developed a sort of alliance against the crowds who march on St. Mark’s.
今年的救贖節(jié)撞上了威尼斯雙年展(Venice Biennale),后者把成千上萬(wàn)來(lái)自全球各地的高端游客吸引到威尼斯,欣賞最新的藝術(shù)、舞蹈和戲劇作品。當(dāng)?shù)厝撕瓦@些藝術(shù)愛(ài)好者,已經(jīng)結(jié)成了某種抗衡前進(jìn)在圣馬克廣場(chǎng)上的人潮的聯(lián)盟。
“We are a model of what could be,” said Paolo Baratta, the president of the Biennale, as he watched the fireworks from the terrace of the festival’s headquarters. The people emptying out of the cruise ships, he said, “aren’t concerned with what happens in Venice.”
“我們提供了一種關(guān)于這座城市的可能前景的范本,”威尼斯雙年展主席保羅·巴拉塔(Paolo Baratta)一邊在雙年展總部的露臺(tái)上看煙花,一邊說(shuō)道。他說(shuō),從游輪中傾巢而出的那些人“并不關(guān)心威尼斯發(fā)生了什么”。
At night, many of the tourists return to their cruise ships or tuck in after early dinners. The result is a momentary reprieve but also, like Venice in its slow winter months, a time warp to an earlier Venice.
晚上,很多游客會(huì)返回游輪,或者在黃昏晚餐結(jié)束后找地方休息。由此不僅暫時(shí)緩解了城市承受的壓力,還制造出一個(gè)與威尼斯悠長(zhǎng)的冬季類似的時(shí)間扭曲效果,讓人得以重回早前的威尼斯。
For me it is the one I first encountered nearly 20 years ago, before Google Maps, when I could get lost and stumble onto seemingly deserted or forgotten campos. At night, away from the city center, a couple of tourists celebrating their wedding at a divey cafe was not cloying, but charming.
對(duì)我而言,這便是我在將近20年前的時(shí)候遇到的那個(gè)威尼斯,當(dāng)時(shí)還沒(méi)有谷歌地圖,我會(huì)迷失方向,偶然走到看似荒涼或被遺忘的廣場(chǎng)上。入夜,兩名游客在遠(yuǎn)離市中心的一家寒酸的咖啡廳里慶祝自己的婚禮,那場(chǎng)景并不過(guò)于甜膩,而是令人愉悅。
Those enchanting hours stretched into the early morning, before the tourists stirred, when St. Mark’s Square itself was empty except for the pigeons and the early risers headed to work.
那些迷人的時(shí)光一直延續(xù)到凌晨,游客們起床之前,圣馬克廣場(chǎng)上空蕩蕩的,只有一些鴿子和趕著去上班的早起者。
Those hours, with the shadows still long and the light reflecting off the lagoon and the triforia windows, reminded me of what Raffaelle Nocera, who otherwise sounded depressed about the state of his city, told me as he navigated a water bus around the Grand Canal.
那些時(shí)光——其間,地上的影子依然很長(zhǎng),光亮反射在泄湖和拱形窗上——讓我想起本來(lái)似乎對(duì)這座城市的狀態(tài)頗感沮喪的威尼斯人拉法埃萊·諾切拉(Raffaelle Nocera),一邊在大運(yùn)河上駕駛水上巴士一邊對(duì)我說(shuō)過(guò)的話。
“If you get up early enough,” Nocera said, “you get all of Venice to yourself.”
“如果你起得足夠早,”諾切拉說(shuō),“整個(gè)威尼斯都是你的。”
It reminds you of why it is so worth protecting, and why Italians have been taking a stand.
它會(huì)提醒你為什么它值得被保護(hù),為什么意大利人一直在公開(kāi)表明立場(chǎng)。
“Today it’s Piazza San Marco or Ponte di Rialto,” Franceschini said. “In a few years it could be that the problem spreads.”
“今天是圣馬可廣場(chǎng)或里阿爾托橋,”弗蘭切斯基尼說(shuō),“過(guò)不了幾年,問(wèn)題可能就會(huì)蔓延開(kāi)去。”