How Not to Tourist, Part 4

Cari amici,

Here we are again, laughing, crying, pointing accusatory fingers, ridiculing, shaking our collective heads in disbelief. That’s right, our fellow humans never fail to do what shouldn’t be done, whether it’s damaging pieces of Renaissance art, demonstrating a remarkable lack of common sense, failing to understand the concept of “look but don’t touch,” or seeing filthy water as temptation. But hey, they’re tourists, so the rules don’t apply, right? Right? (Please imagine me rolling my eyes.)

“Wait, this is part 4?” you say. “There are that many stupid stunts done every year?” Why yes, yes indeed. If you’d like to read parts 1, 2, and 3, you can do so here, here, and here.

As usual, this collection is, I’m sure, far from complete. Before we get started, let me tell you about one tragic event that you might think I overlooked, if you heard about it—a Japanese tourist who died after falling from a perimeter wall at the Pantheon in Rome last October. He’s not included here because his fall and subsequent death were due to illness, not idiocy.

That said, idiocy is easily found elsewhere. Let’s start in Venice, shall we?

Venice, September 2025

At 1:30a.m. on the day in question, two Hungarian tourists saw the Rialto Bridge and said (as one does when viewing a UNESCO World Heritage site), “Hey, let’s climb to the top!” Reports and images—including from a Venetian rower who spotted them and whose images went viral on social media, as well as footage from municipal cameras—say the tourists climbed the bridge as if it were a rock face. Video footage shows them perched on the bridge’s peak, endangering not only themselves but the structure and possibly people below. Apparently the pair was DASPO’d (banned from an urban area), but for how long, and whether a fine was also levied, remains unknown.

You can watch the video here.

Venice, September 2025

It’s a question tourists ask themselves, and each other, with predictable regularity—as soon as the weather turns mild, someone takes the plunge, stripping down to “enjoy” a swim in the sewage-tainted canals of Venice. This time it was a 35-year-old English man and a 25-year-old Romanian woman, spotted in the Grand Canal and reported by a gondolier. (Photos show them diving and, incredibly, wakeboarding). Their fun ended when they were fined €350 in administrative charges plus €100 (a fine of undisclosed nature) and DASPO’d for 48 hours.

(If you’re a dinosaur like me, you remember that movie.)

Venice, May 2024

In old news that passed me by until recently, a 20-year-old youth from nearby Vicenza took a swim in a canal in Campo San Zan Degolà, then tried to hide in the web of nearby calli (what streets are called in Venice). Apparently the kid (sounds like Rhodes Scholar material to me) didn’t think about the trail his wet footprints left, but the police did. The young man was fined €450 and banned from the city for 48 hours.

Florence, April 2026

This is at least the second recent instance of a tourist finding the statue of Neptune in the Fontana di Nettuno, next to Palazzo Vecchio, irresistible. This time it was a 28-year-old woman (whose nationality has not been disclosed), who climbed over a low fence and onto the horses at the statue’s base, causing nearly $6,000 worth of damage to the horses and a frieze.

Why did she do this? I’m glad you asked. She was on an important mission—specifically, a pre-wedding dare to grope ol’ Neptune’s precious bits. For her efforts, she was removed by local authorities and reported for “defacing an artistic and architectural monument.” Was she fined? DASPO’d? I don’t know, but I hope so.

Pompeii, August 2025

A 51-year-old Scottish tourist stole five stones and a brick fragment from one of the world’s most famous archaeological sites, intending to give them to his son for his “personal collection of rare objects.” Apprehended at a train station after a guide reported him to park security, the man claimed to be unaware that it was illegal to remove artifacts from the site. He risked a €1500 fine and/or imprisonment of up to six years (sure wish I knew how this one ended).

Bonus material! According to two news sources, stealing artifacts from Pompeii is riskier than you might think: those treasures bring misfortune. According to a euronews article, “a considerable number of items” have been returned, “accompanied by letters of apology or regret.” One example is a Canadian woman who returned items she’d taken fifteen years earlier, claiming that they were the cause of her two bouts of breast cancer and her family’s financial problems. She said she didn’t want “to pass this curse on to my family or children.”

At smithsonianmag.com, an article states that “in 2020, Pompeii archaeologist Luana Toniolo said that the park had received approximately 200 returns within the past decade. ‘Some letters tell us of sad events that occurred after stealing the artifacts in Pompeii such as broken legs and ankles,’ she told Lonely Planet’s James Gabriel Martin. ‘Others have heard of this “curse” so they prefer to return these artifacts as a precaution, before something bad can happen to them.’ ”

Arezzo, April 2026

Full disclosure: this may well not be a tourist escapade, but it could be, so here ya go. To the amusement of videocamera-wielding onlookers, someone decided to drive an elderly Panda down the stairs at the Palazzo di Giustizia. Speculations include that the driver was taking a shortcut or had been blocked in by other parked cars and chose the stairs as an escape route.

The Panda, in both current and ancient forms, is an inescapable part of the Italian landscape, a common denominator found in both city and country. According to this site (where you can also watch a video), the Panda taking on a staircase with aplomb “conferma la leggenda: non sarà elegante, ma dove la metti … ci va. Anche giù per le scale.” Meaning: it confirms the legend that the Panda, though not elegant, goes where you put it. Even down the stairs.

If you like hearing where ideas for books come from, especially when family secrets are involved, then you’ll probably enjoy a piece I wrote for Women Writers, Women[‘s] Books about How Long a Shadow’s origin story. Check it out here.

Tante belle cose, alla prossima—

Cheryl

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I tuned into a radio conversation (KissKiss, if you must know) about in/fidelity while I was driving the other day, and this phrase nearly made me veer into oncoming traffic (just kidding). Use it at your own peril—and please, only with people you know well!

Mangiare lo stesso wiener—which means to be faithful to your partner (literally, to eat the same hot dog).

I’m still laughing.

How Long a Shadow can be preordered at Cynren Press, bookshop.org, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon (U.S.). It’s not yet available for purchase outside of the U.S. You can buy The Wild Impossibility here or on the usual sites, or, better yet, order it from your local bookstore. Three more ways to support authors: ask your library to stock their books, recommend the books to your friends, and leave a few lines of praise on any bookish site. You’d be surprised how much a rating or review helps authors. Baci!