There's often a lack of order when it comes to queuing in Italy.

© Getty My taxi driver in Rome. I was his first booking in seven days

At the gate for the Rome flight from Munich airport today, it couldn't have been more different.

The 25 or so passengers waiting to board stood further apart than the one metre rule now in place in public spaces. The majority were wearing face masks. Everyone was silent.

© Getty More than half of flights are cancelled into Fiumicino

The characteristic loud chatter and tactile nature of Italians, invisible.

Onboard the flight, many moved from their allocated seats to ensure they were sitting as far away as possible from other people. There was a clear feeling of anxiety among passengers.

© Getty People are taking no chances in Italy and keeping their distance

Arriving into Rome Fiumicino it felt no different. The terminal was ghostly quiet, the cleaning and security staff all wearing masks. On the departures board, more than half the flights were cancelled.

As I entered the baggage hall, there were two medics seated at the entrance.

Slightly further on, members of the La Guardia di Finanza (Italian law enforcement) stopped each passenger to ask where they'd flown from. I responded Munich and wasn't given a temperature check.

It was my taxi driver, Maurizio Rossi, who perhaps summed up the atmosphere best, "Morto, tutto morto." Dead, everything's dead, he said.

All his work has been cancelled until the end of April. Last night the first cancellations began for May. I am his first booking in seven days.

He's wearing a mask and gloves and apologises when he asks me to sit in the back seat of his taxi van to maximise the space between us. Few here now appear to be taking any chances.

© Getty A carpark is virtually empty at the airport

He tells me it'll take no time to the city centre. "Traffic..." he says. "Well there's no traffic. The roads are empty."

And certainly they are.

We passed very few cars and as we entered the city, even fewer people. On one street I see people queuing to enter an office block - they're standing two metres apart.

Maurizio explains they have to enter one by one.

"The only thing I'm scared about is this won't be a brief thing," Maurizio says.

"How many families can survive without money? Without earning? How long with this last for? I can last a month and after..."

His voice trails off. "And after?" I prompt him.

"After, what do I do? I'll have no money. No work," he says. "There's only one solution.

"What we're doing in Italy we should have done two weeks ago... The same thing should be happening in other countries. If they look at us and they use their heads they won't find themselves in our situation."

People don't have a fear of dying here, he explains. They have an anxiety about how they'll survive. And that anxiety is palpable.