Former asylums on islands turned into five-star hotels, but ordinary Venetians struggle to live in cityFrom Philip Willan in Venice
IN the past, Venice made use of some of its outlying islands to shield the city from madness and infectious diseases.
Today, historic hospitals and a former lunatic asylum are being pressed into service as luxury hotels, to give discerning visitors a more tranquil Venetian experience, insulated from the hurly burly of a city that is trampled on every year by around 20 million pairs of feet.
Entrepreneurs are planning to restore crumbling buildings on some of the smaller islands to provide wealthy guests with an oasis of tranquillity, reviving the quality that once gave its name to the Venetian Republic: la Serenissima (the Most Serene).
On the island of Murano, famous for its glass-making but until recently devoid of hotels, there are plans for two five-star establishments. A French company controlled by Air France will restore a derelict glass factory known as le Conterie, bought from the Venice city council for 8 million (£6.2m). And glass manufacturer Diego Ferro will convert his own abandoned factory into a 180-room luxury hotel.
Other small islands will also get hotels: Burano, renowned for its lace, Pellestrina, an island of fishermen, and Poveglia, where a geriatric hospital will be reborn as a luxury hotel.
Turin's Ramondetti family has led the way, turning an abandoned 17th-century monastery on the island of San Clemente - that served in more recent times as a female lunatic asylum - into the luxury San Clemente Palace Hotel.
Aprivate water-taxi will ferry patrons to bustling St Mark's Square within 15 minutes, but the 18-hectare private island offers a haven of peace and a spacious comfort that is difficult to find even in the historic palaces of the centre, where space has always been at a premium.
An authentic Tintoretto portrait of a Venetian gentleman gazes onto the lobby, and guests can enjoy a spectacular view of the Venice skyline from a patio flanked by the 17th century Church of San Clemente, where the monks once gathered for prayer. The hotel, which opened in 2003, offers a swimming pool, tennis courts, mini-golf and gym, if crowds in the city centre get too stressful.
"Our customers enjoy the fact of being separate," said Linda Bertoni, PR manager for the hotel. "But it's important to offer services, so the client doesn't feel isolated." She said the hotel awaited the arrival of new competitors with interest.
"There are many projects for the islands that are aimed at a particular kind of clientele, people seeking unusual accommodation, somewhere off the beaten track," Claudio Scarpa, the director of Venice's hoteliers' association, told La Repubblica newspaper.
City authorities welcome the development, which provides a way of rescuing dilapidated structures for which there are few alternative uses.
"I don't think it's a scandal that new hotels are opening on some of the islands," said Mara Rumiz, the Venice councillor responsible for public works and housing.
"The projects concern buildings that have been abandoned for a long time."
Many people see the development as further proof that there is no real alternative to tourism as a source of income for the city, condemning Venice to an artificial existence as a kind of cultural Disneyland.
Rumiz insists city authorities are doing their best to buck that trend, encouraging the development of high tech companies, cultural and educational activities, and a shipyard for the small boats that ply the lagoon.
What does worry officials, though, is the increasing cost of residential property that risks driving even more Venetians out of their city.
A pharmacy in Campo San Bartolomeo charts the decline from when Venice was one of the most populated cities in the world, in the 16th century, to its recent population peak, in 1951, of 174,808 inhabitants. Last week, the Farmacia Morelli's electronic counter recorded the number of Venetians as 60,447.
"What worries me is not the palazzo on the Grand Canal that is converted into a hotel. That may help to safeguard the palazzo. The real problem is the subtraction of ordinary residential accommodation for the benefit of tourists," said Ms Rumiz. "These days, even the middle class has difficulty in finding affordable housing."
A recent regional law making it easier to convert residential properties into mini-apartments and bed and breakfasts has only exacerbated the problem.
The city has shot back by withholding licenses for the construction of new bathrooms. City regulations now allow property owners to install a new bathroom for every 35 square metres of living space only if their building measures 450sqm or more - which means a palace on the Grand Canal can still be converted into a hotel.
But if the building is a typical Venetian home it is not allowed more than two bathrooms per 150sqm: a measure intended to put an end to the exponential growth of B&Bs and preserve affordable homes for the Venetians.
Administrators hope the new bathroom rules will preserve the last traces of Venice as a living city - where ordinary people are born and reside - and prevent its complete conversion into the world's most extraordinary water-borne museum.
