Until the last few weeks this was a familiar sight for Venetians. Taking a stroll, out doing the daily bits and pieces and wham - a floating office block arrived in your face. Enough to spoil your whole day.
But the real damage is unseen. Enormous volumes of water are displaced by these mega-monsters, forced into small side canals and causing corrosive damage to already fragile substructures. Turbulence lasts for up to twenty-four hours after the ship's passage. With cruise ships arriving and departing almost daily, there's no time when building foundations aren't under stress. They have been standing there for as long as a millennium, carrying the weight of a city on their shoulders. They deserve a rest.
Venetians agree. In a recent referendum, fully ninety-eight percent of residents voted to divert the passage of these ships.
From 2022, they will arrive in Venice via the industrial mainland, a far less glamourous route. For passengers, a view of bell towers will be replaced by towers belching smoke.
Cruise ships have not received good press just lately. I hadn't given the matter much thought until a conversation with my Venetian friend, Dimitri. It's not just ecological damage that concerns Venetians like Dimitri.
"We Venetians call them gelato tourists," he told me. "They eat a snack in a cafe. Buy a few souveniers. Often return to the ship for their evening meal. They crowd our city and leave us nothing."
I'll let the photos do the talking ...
... except to say I don't believe cruise ship passengers are selfish fun-seekers, pushing to one side the environmental impact of their good times. No. They are simply unaware of the threat these marine intruders pose to Venice. As I once was.
The last word goes to Venetian entrepreneur, Pierro Pazzi. On the subject of mass tourism, cruising included, he has this to say: "You are actually breaking the balls and compromising the fragile environment of a little city that was built on a human scale."
It's something to think about as you walk up the gangplank.