Last week, Venice made global headlines when Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez rented out the entire island of San Giorgio Maggiore—and even parts of the city itself—to host their three‑day, multi‑million‑euro wedding fest. For nearly a week—from June 24 to 29—the island was completely off‑limits to the public, with access barged, bridges raised, water taxis diverted, and hundreds of Venetians cut out of their own city.
Imagine: a city that’s already squeezed by 25–30 million tourists annually, now cordoned off for one private party. Some 60 water taxis and a hefty chunk of gondolas were commandeered; luxury hotels like Aman Venice were fully booked (and previous guests quietly bumped)—and even the Scuola Grande della Misericordia got pulled into “Bezos land” until plans were moved due to protest pressure.
A Surreal Spectacle
I couldn’t help but think it sounded like a Hollywood set—Venice as a private ballroom. They held a foam party aboard Bezos’s $500 million yacht, hosted a clandestine ceremony on an ancient island, and stooled ultra‑VIPs like Oprah, DiCaprio, and the Kardashians—while locals watched in stunned silence.
The spectacle, reportedly costing between €48 million and $50 million, was lauded by the city for its economic upside—close to €1 billion in global exposure and almost €1 million per guest in value. Yet protesters saw it as the ultimate example of Venice being treated like a theme park for billionaires—a playground for people who can buy privacy and inconvenience everyone else.
My Honest Thoughts About Venice
Every time I’ve gone to Venice, I thought the same thing: it’s beautiful, but honestly way too crowded.
The first time I visited, I was completely in awe—the canals, the faded palazzi, the way the whole city feels like it’s suspended in time. But after about twenty minutes of wandering, reality hits. There are so many cruise ships dumping out thousands of people at once that you can barely walk across Piazza San Marco without getting stuck in a human traffic jam.
And it’s not just a little crowded—it’s packed. The alleys feel claustrophobic. You’re dodging rolling suitcases, tour groups waving flags, and people fighting over café tables.
To make things worse, if you go in the summer, you’re basically dripping in sweat by 10 a.m. It’s hot and humid, the stone streets radiate heat, and you end up spending half the day searching for any patch of shade or a café with AC to cool off for five minutes. Even sitting down feels like a tactical mission—if you manage to find an empty table, you brace yourself for the service charge and the €8 bottle of water.
Venice is absolutely stunning—don’t get me wrong—but the crowds and the oppressive summer heat can really take away from the experience. If you’re planning a trip, I’d honestly recommend going in the off-season if you can. You’ll still find plenty of tourists, but at least you can walk around without feeling like you’re in a sardine can.
New Rules: Will They Change Anything?
Adding to the tension, Venice has rolled out new regulations this year in an attempt to curb the pressure:
Access-fee days expanded: 54 “high-traffic” days (up from 29 in 2024).
Entry fees: €5 if you book at least four days in advance, €10 if you show up last-minute during peak hours (8:30 a.m.–4 p.m.).
Tour group caps & noise bans: No more than 25 people per group, no loudspeakers or megaphones, and fines of €25–€500 for behaviors like picnicking on church steps, feeding pigeons, swimming in canals, or walking around shirtless.
These rules are a decent first step, but honestly, I’m not sure they’re enough. Critics argue that charging tourists doesn’t fundamentally solve the problem—Venice is still overwhelmed, and the economic model depends on constant mass tourism.
So What’s My Take?
The Bezos wedding was surreal. A city built for trade and community transformed into a billionaire’s private party.
Venice is magical—but straining. Its beauty is real, but it’s wrapped in logistical chaos.
New rules are better than nothing—but Venice needs more. If nothing changes, it risks becoming a museum for wealthy visitors rather than a living city.
In Closing
Venice is a marvel—but its charm is fragile. The Bezos wedding was a jaw-dropping spectacle of wealth, but it also shone a spotlight on a deeper truth: Venice is at a crossroads. Sure, billionaires can rent islands—but they can’t buy back authenticity once it’s gone.
If you have the chance to go, go. Just try to go mindfully—and maybe not in July.
Important words!