DAYS SIXTY-TWO TO SEVENTY - 10/05/2020 - 18/05/2020
It all feels rather neat: today marks the 70th day of lockdown in Rome, which happens to fall on a Monday, and sees the transition from what we had come to know as Phase Two, to a new, accelerated version of life here. This morning, for the first time, shops, bars, restaurants, beauticians and hairdressers will open their doors to the public; churches will resume mass, and Italians across the nation will be reunited with friends and extended family members. Change is in the air, and it brings a heady mix of excitement and fear.
Yesterday, I took a long walk around central Rome, trying to soak up the ghostly atmosphere of sites such as the Pantheon and Trevi fountain for the final time, before we take a collective, tentative step towards ‘life as we knew it’. Most people I have spoken to feel as conflicted about this as I do: it seems far too soon, given that two weeks ago we weren’t even able to go out for a walk, and yet the Government has just announced that the country’s borders will reopen on 3rd June, even scrapping the plan to quarantine any visitors coming into the country for 15 days. But there’s no denying that we are all keen to see Italy’s economy slowly fire up again, and to feel at least some semblance of normality, whether it’s getting our hair cut or being able to meet friends for dinner. Except, I soon realised that it won’t feel normal at all, when I received a video call from my hairdresser the other day, so that she could see “exactly what needed doing”, ahead of my appointment with her this week, in order to calculate how long it would take. “Remember your mask and gloves”, she reminded me “and please be punctual!”. Only one customer will be allowed into the salon at a time, so they will have to be meticulous with their scheduling.
Restaurants, too, will be taking precautions by operating on a booking only basis, obliging customers to wear a mask if they get up from the table, and rigorously sterilizing the venue at regular intervals. Some may even measure each punter’s body temperature before allowing them inside (37.5 degrees Celsius being the cut-off point). Thankfully, we are now safely on the road towards summer, so many customers will be seated outside, with Rome's mayor Virginia Raggi promising to temporarily waive the fee for permits allowing venues to occupy extra outdoor space in the city’s squares and on the street. However, many restaurateurs and business owners are still not happy: they will be functioning at around 10-20% capacity, owing to the strict distancing restrictions, and will not be able to cover the high costs of rent and other bills, or resume paying their staff, with such low intake. In both Rome and Milan last week, many of these business owners gathered in protest on the Spanish Steps and in front of the iconic Duomo respectively, to voice their concerns (they were fined, for gathering in a public space). Worryingly, journalist Angela Giuffreda claims that “FIPE, the Italian association for bars and restaurants, said that as many as 50,000 establishments across the country may have to close for good”, and that many “have already made some tough decisions”, such as letting staff go. “For many”, she writes, “rules on social distancing could spell the end”. Some of the government’s proposals for businesses have been scoffed at and even mocked by restaurant owners and customers alike, most notably that to install plexiglass panels between diners. “It could work as a barrier at the till, but on the table it’s not only ugly, but an insult”, the chef at popular Roman trattoria Armando al Pantheon told The Observer.
As far as I have seen, however, businesses seem to have successfully adapted to previous changes quickly and with surprisingly few teething problems, whether it’s handing out gloves and hand sanitiser at the entrance, or enforcing the one-in-one-out rule, smiling and joking with clients underneath their masks and ploughing on regardless. As ever, Italians have proved themselves to be admirably resourceful and resilient, so I have no doubt that those who can will get to grips with the latest developments, and will be relieved to be greeting customers once again.
The country’s beaches, too, are keen to welcome back sunbathers in time for the summer season, already coming up with creative ways to allow this to happen safely - that don’t include the infamous plexiglass panels. Instead, lifeguards will disinfect each sunbed after use, umbrellas will be placed at least five metres apart from one another, and time slots may have to be ‘booked’; some beaches are even contemplating charging a small admission fee, in order to limit numbers. Other rules will be much harder to implement, such as that prohibiting games or sports (with the exception of racket-and-ball games, which will be allowed, if you are in the water at the time) - and how will parents tell their children they can’t run around or play on the beach? All eyes are currently on Greece, having themselves just kick-started the summer season by opening 515 beaches to the public. But it’s not business as usual - quite the contrary, in fact - with sales of alcohol prohibited, and a ban on music or “sports facilities that might encourage social interaction”. As The Guardian reports, while these restrictions may be a little more problematic here in Italy, where our 5000 miles of coastline is “around half that of Greece”, we are nonetheless looking to Greece as an example: “what happens along the Athenian riviera in the coming days will be key to Southern Europe regaining a semblance of life as it once was under the hot Mediterranean sun”, the article predicts.
After reflecting on the reality of what this article describes as “the spectre of recreation being so heavily regulated”, I do wonder if these limitations will suck the joy out of going out for a meal, or taking a day trip to the beach. Aside from the fact that many, like me, have been out of work for nearly three months, and will have to think twice before indulging in luxuries such as eating out or travelling anywhere, I find myself wondering if it would be worth it, anyway. As Giuffrida puts it, “the worry is that the myriad rules could put people off” entirely, as recreational activities such as eating in restaurants become “mired in red tape rather than a fun, often spontaneous moment of coming together.”
I suspect that initially we may see a small flurry of activity this week, but on the whole I imagine there will be a tightening of belts for most across the country, with friends and families opting to eat together in homes or on terraces, or share picnics in the park. I hope to be able to support independent, local businesses when I can, but I certainly won’t be living my post-lockdown life with reckless abandon, and I doubt I’ll be the only one.
There are more questions than answers, at the moment, and as we try to get to grips with the latest rules, it will undoubtedly take us a while to settle into this new routine. But for today, I’ll be taking my first steps out without a self-declaration form in my pocket, to peruse the newly-opened stalls at my local market, and plan to meet a friend later for a celebratory drink. Baby steps, but the freedom still feels somewhat dizzying - and just a little bit dangerous.