It is February in Venice and Carnevale has begun. As the morning sunlight silvers the light powdering of snow on the roof tiles and chimneys of Venice, masks and costumes begin to appear in the calli. There are shouts of "brava" and "bravo" as the morning shoppers applaud their progress...

In Piazza San Marco workmen are erecting the huge chandeliers which will turn the space described as the world's greatest dining room into an open air ballroom. The square is almost empty now except for a group of fur coated venetian women who stand chatting as their children, dressed as clowns and aristocrats, throw confetti over one another.

Near the entrance to the square, a reproduction of a floating stage used in the carnivals of 18th century Venice slowly appears through the lagoon mist. The high tide slaps against the row of snow covered gondolas tied up along the Molo, flooding the promenade and forming a huge pool in front of the church of St. Marco. Nobody seems concerned; it will receded again by early afternoon.

Revellers are flying in front all over the world to take part in Carnevale, one of Europe's oldest and most enchanting festivals. For six days and nights the crowds will carouse in the streets and squares of Venice until the Marangona, the big bell in the Campanile, begins to toll at midnight signalling the beginning of Lent. The final day, Martedi Grasso or Fat Tuesday, is the climatic day of Carnevale when processions wander up and down the grand canal. Hundreds of fairy lights and lanterns are reflected in the waters of the canals. Fireworks over the water at night set the sky ablaze with festive light.

Although Piazza San Marco is the centre for all activity, celebrations take place all over Venice during Carnivale. Stages are set up in most of the main squares for open air performances and motor boats disgorge people in carnival dress at the half-submerged steps leading to the entrances to palaces along the grand canal. The tempo of Carnivale increases and costumed merrymakers begin to pour out of the grand hotels like the Danielli and the Gritti and make their way to Piazza San Marco. The square is soon crowded. Masks multiply. Identities become confused. The divisions between reality and illusion, between past and present, never very clearly defined in Venice at any time, indistinguishably merge.

The intimacy of Venice, with its narrow pedestrian streets free of cars, unites the people amid the joy of Carnevale. And anything goes in Venice during Carnevale. Venice is a wordly old lady who has seen everything and will accept anything. The medieval princes in pearl embroidered pink satin may be a beautiful young girl, or she may be a man. Nobody cares. The noisy transvestites who are camping it up for the sake of pursuing photographers are tolerated by everyone. it is a time for escaping the inescapable conditions age, identity and sex, for turning the tables between male and female, young and old.

"Solo i morti sono Vecchi" (only the dead are old), the old carnival cry rings through the streets. And if hands and feet need to be thawed out there is always the change to slip into Rosa Salva's pasticceria for hot fried carnival cakes and coffee enroute from one square to another. Or to sit on a plush seat in the Cafe Florian and watch the passing parade in Piazza San Marco through the windows. There will be much to see too, inside this famous cafe. Ignoring the cold, young Venetians and students gather each night in Campo San Bartolomeo to carouse under the statue of Goldoni, whose 18th Century plays about Venetian life are often staged in Venice during Carnevale.

Venice itself becomes a stage. Al the sad-funny characters from the traditional Commedia del 'Arte - Harlequins, Pantaloons, Pulchinelli and Brighelle - appear in the streets. White faced clowns drape themselves around the base of St. Theodore's column, where they sit, silently in the falling snow. Groups of young Germans walk arm along the Molo singing German songs.

In Piazza San Marco, human bats stand posed on the parapets of the Loggetta, where they are picked up at night by strobe lighting sweeping around the buildings of the square. Traditional masks, some sinister and some melancholy, move through the calli like characters out of some Greek tragedy.

From the Rialto Bridge to Piazza San Marco and down the other side of the Grand Canal between the Rialto Market to Santa Maia Della Salute, crowds of revellers fill the narrow calli as they move from one square to another.

The spirit of Carnevale also pervades Venice's theatres. It is customary for people to go to the theatre in carnival dress and at the Frenice Theatre, bautas and tricorn hats can be seen all around the gilded tiers of the rococo interior. To admire a mask from the stall below is to invite a courtly bow from the mask person above. There are historical processions at night which look as if they could have been the subjects of paintings by Gentile Bellini. Flag throwers arrive from Tuscan hill towns to take part, tossing their flags high above their heads as their processions make their way from one part of Venice to another. Nobody, of course, knows how to put on a pro-cession better than the Venetians and the carnival processions which moves down the grand canal to the floating Carnivale stage and then on to the Doge's palace on Martedi Grasso is one of the year's most spectacular.

Each year Carnevale adopts a theme involving some aspect of Venice's history and the procession reflects this theme. There is a great awareness of the historical background of Carnevale. Costumes are copied from Venice's wealth of paintings and frescoes by Guardi, Veronese, Carpaccio and Gentile Bellini, depicting carnivals and procession in Venice in other countries. There are several organizations in Venice including the Compagnia di Calzi Antichi, whose members promote the authenticity of costumes and street parades. members of this exclusive society, a revival of a historic Venetian society of young noblemen dating back to the 15th century., are among the first to appear in the streets in carnival dress.

The mask makers, or mascareri, can been seen sitting in the windows of little shops all over Venice weeks before Carnevale begins working creatively with feathers, sequins and painted papier mache. Many of the carnival masks have a history as long as that Carnevale itself. The plague doctor mask, with its long nose, a great favourite among tourists, originated during the great plagues in Venice, when the long noses were filled with gauze and wadding in an attempt to filter the plague germs. The bauta, a beaked half-mask work with a black mantle and three-cornered hat, is seen everywhere, worn by men and women alike. In the 18th century it was a common carnival disguise for people of the patrician class, although others wore it too, as servants masqueraded as master and master as servant. Today, bautas and tricorn hats are sold all over Venice during Carnevale.

For visitors who feel a last minute urge to join in, there are a growing number of shops through Venice who either hire or sell carnival costumes. Veneiartigana, a consortium of Venetian artists which operates from an antique shop, all timber panelling, scroll work and Venetian mirrors in Calle Largo San Marco, has a display of costumes so outstanding that it attracts photographers by the hundreds. Other areas for the visitor to Venice to explore for shopping are in the Frezzeria and some of the streets leading off it, and on the other side of the Grand Canal near the Frari Church.

Every year the Carnevale grows further in size and activity from its state of rebirth only even years ago. This is not only due to the increasing influx of affluent tourists - the result of a promotion program called Promov. Venice in Winter, which has been organized by the management of 27 hotels offering special rates and benefits to winter visitors. The Venetians, too have once again taken Carnivale to heart. It has become part of the new spirit of optimism in a city which has undergone a dramatic restoration program in the past twenty years and which, in the last few years, has begun to reflect a new affluence in Italy.

The chandeliers of the restored palaces along the Grand Canal are beginning to shine once more on parties which could compete with those given during Venice's golden age. The Venice of today is returning to her days of glory which in years long past inspired Charles Dickens to write:

'Nothing in the world that you have heard about Venice equals the mystique and wonderful reality .... that exceeds the most magnificent dream."