Is Romance Dead? Or in a coma? Should we poke it and see?

So for those of you not yet aware, which is anyone without a computer, phone or indeed within shouting distance of my face, I am currently residing in the beautiful city of Venice in Italy.

 

This was not an 'Eat. Pray. Love' finding myself type decision, it was more a 'we will pay you to eat' type decision. 

 

So here I am. In what I believe might actually be the most beautiful city in the world. Add to that pizza, ice-cream and yummy Italian men. Or that was the idea. Unfortunately Venice is not full of thirty something dark haired lotharios called Lorenzo who would love to eat gelato off my naked body. Nope.....It is full of tourists. 

 

Tourist couples. (I threw up in my mouth a little bit when I wrote that).

They've all flocked out to have a wonderful romantic four days on gondolas, holding hands on bridges, kissing in corners and generally getting in my way on my way to work.

 

Initially I wanted to throw each couple off the Rialto and into the Grand Canal, but to be honest that would be a little too time consuming and I have better things to do with my time. Eat Pizza. Scowl. That sort of thing.

 

So instead I have observed. Like a sort of pervert spy.

 

Romance is a big business here. This place is a sort of Groundhog Valentine's Day. Gondoliers sweep young couples up and down the canal under some of the most stunning vistas ever to have been built by man. Rose sellers accost you at every turn with their huge bunches of reminders of your singledom. You can eat ice cream and playfully put some on your lovers nose before kissing in a sort of Rom Com type way. This was the city of Casanova for goodness sake. How can you not get swept up in the greeting card life? Even I forget sometimes and start holding my own hand as I wander over bridges and wonder what romantic restaurant I will take myself out to this evening.

 

This would be an ideal place to have such a unique experience, if you weren't sharing it with 6543 other couples.

 

As a result the city is packed with couples forcing themselves at huge expense to have a good time. 

 

Women scowling at boyfriends who didn't buy them that rose despite the fact that it was 3 euros and he's already sold his clothing and teeth to take her to the opera and eat a sandwich. (It's an expensive city).

 

I go on my little vaporetto up the river and watch couple in gondalas. And do they look like disgustingly happy newly weds who need to get a room? No. They look embarrassed as people gawp at them from passing boats and the banks of the river. And, depending on the weather, a bit wet. And not in a good way.

 

Call me cynical, (I won't answer because it's not my name), but I think that this forced romance actually sucks the romance out of a relationship.

 

Maybe I'm just bitter, but I can't see how you can feel ardently in love with your partner when you are fighting through crowds of equally ardently in love couples and rose sellers.

 

I can't help but feel a little smug as I sit in my quiet little corner with my book watching couples argue over maps and who got who lost.

 

But maybe I just don't know what romantic means.

Give us our day back you bastards

Ah yes. It's that time of year again. The time of year that fills with dread the hearts of every singleton, boyfriend and husband alike.


That day of the year when single folk are scared to leave the house for fear of being bombarded by hoards of couples in every restaurant, cinema and street corner. We are left to peer through the curtains like lepers frightened to catch a glimpse of the pitying looks in our untouchable direction by those who are deeply in love, parading the streets with their flowers and chocolates.


If that wasn't bad enough we are reminded of our singledom for a good solid month approaching V-day. Cards, roses, champagne everywhere. You can't set foot in boots to buy shampoo without being reminded that you will probably die alone by a stupid cartoon cat on a heart shaped card.


And yet, this is not my problem with Valentine's Day. It may not sound like it but I am happy for all of those people who have found each other in this otherwise quite bitter universe.


What I am annoyed about is the fact that it is our bloody day! It isn't intended for couples to get together and make kissy faces at each other, or for boyfriends to get in a sweaty panic as they have to pay £25 for a rose at a petrol station at 7pm on the 13th because they had forgotten all about it. Or even for the girlfriends, to lament that their boyfriend got them sodding chocolates, when they have been together for four years and he knows she's lactose intolerant.


No.


It is for us. It was designed so that we could have a day, above all days of the year, when we could breathe in, man up and say, do you know what? I quite fancy you.


On what other day of the year could you get a card telling you that you had an admirer, signed off with a question mark, and not have to take it to the police as evidence of stalking?


Couples have every other day of the year. They get to spend Christmas together, and birthdays, they get to have the New Year's Eve kiss. 


In the Metro this week thay had a 14 page spread of things to buy your partner. And then a tiny three line article on how to 'survive valentine's' if you are single! You can't just rewrite whole days! You can't just say, right from now on Christmas days will be celebrated by going donkey racing and eating bicycle tyres and wearing underwear on our heads! 


As single people we have to be subjected to PDA's every single day of the year. Well I say we should claim this day back as our own. I say V-day should be declared as a day when all couples have to stay indoors and you are not allowed on the streets unless you are single. And we can have some sort of massive single jubilee street party. With dancing and banners and punch and suchlike.


That's what I think.