Venice Day 12 Part 2

A Wee Birdie Savoring a Bite from Self's Croissant This Morning at the Hotel Rialto

A Wee Birdie Savoring a Bite from Self’s Croissant This Morning at the Hotel Rialto

Early early this morning, self crept out of the apartment (in a pretty steady rain) and made it to the Hotel Rialto, where she had a cappucino (5 euros; a kind young waitress slipped her a croissant for free).  She was hoping she’d have further sightings of that Extremely Rare Bird, the Filipina Overseas Worker.  And indeed, she saw two young lasses walking along, and self jumped right up and called out, “Hello!  You must be Filipinas!”  And the two stared at self open-mouthed.  And self cajoled them into talking with her for five minutes.  And they told her they worked as maids in a Venetian hotel.  They provided her with a name, but when self googled the hotel from a bar, she found that it did not exist.  Good One, oh Demure Filipinas!


But, anyhoo, the morning was not a complete wash, because self was able to take many blurry pictures of people walking by with their umbrellas.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Other (Mostly Discouraging) News

Once in a while, self gets the strange feeling that she is on a boat, and that the ground is moving up and down.  She felt it just a few minutes ago, in a bar where she was checking e-mail messages.

Self, get a grip!  Even though Venice is resting on ancient wooden pylons, it is not a ship.  You’re going daft.

Since arriving in Venice, self has received  a total of eight rejections, and one announcement of contest results.  The contest was the one by New South.  Why self thinks she Read the rest of this entry »

Venice Day 12: The Vaporetto and Saint Mark’s Square

This is self’s fifth cappucino of the day.  She’s all wired up.  Every time she finds a bar or a café with wifi, she sits down.  Of course, when one sits down, one must order.  And the cheapest things on the menu are espresso, cappucino, caffé latte.  Hence, all the coffee.  She won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Saw a man fall off his wheelchair in San Marco.  It happened right beside self this morning.  She gasped and tried to help him up, but he was at least twice her height.  That is, he looked to be about six foot.  There he was, lying face down on the rise of the bridge near the Doge’s Palace.  Help, help!  self shrieked.  Eventually, some men came to his aid.

On the vaporetto to Ferrovia (where she bought a train ticket for Trieste), she saw a church.  Well, what’s so exciting about that.  One is always passing churches on the vaporetto.  About one every few seconds.  But this church said, OMG:

ad maiorem dei Gloriam (For the greater glory of God)

Which is a quote self remembers hearing quite often from Dear Departed Dad.  His professors in the Ateneo had all the students write it on the top of every test and every written assignment.  His professors were Jesuit, just like the current Pope.


Self takes it as a sign.

Well, everything these days is a sign (at least, to self).

And here’s what a vaporetto stop looks like when one begins one’s peregrinations early enough in the morning:


One must never even think of coming to Venice in May.  Or June.  Or July.  Or August.  Or September.  With every passing week —  no, with every passing day — there have been more and more tourists.  The line to get into San Marco Cathedral is hundreds of people long.

Today, self had more random sightings of Filipinos.  The last encounter was with a woman chatting enthusiastically (in Tagalog) on her cell phone.  Self approached and asked if the 4.1 vaporetto went to Ferrovia.  She pronounced it Fer-ruh-vya.  And the woman put up a finger, finished her conversation, rang off, then turned to self and said, in perfect English:  “OK, what was your question?”  When self repeated it, the woman said.  “Yes.  And it’s pronounced Fer-roh-vee-ya.”  Self’s next question was going to be:  “Do you work here?”  but the woman didn’t look all that enthusiastic about self having identified her as a fellow Filipina.  She scuttled off.


Self is still fascinated by the pigeons in San Marco Square.  She remembers feeding them as a child (She was last in Venice when she was 11).  Margarita says feeding them is now illegal.  But the last couple of days, self has seen dozens of people feeding the pigeons.  And no carabinieri in sight.

Anyhoo, she has fun just watching the throngs.  San Marco Square always has interesting people, decked out in all manner of clothing.  Today she saw a women in a tight, electric-blue dress, families of Indians (all the women wearing saris), and also Asian tourists clicking away.  She wanted to ask someone to take her picture next to some pigeons, but after yesterday, when she asked a Chinese couple if they would mind taking her picture and they hurried away from her as if she was contagious, she hasn’t been able to summon the nerve.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

nancy merrill photography

capturing memories one moment at a time

Asian Cultural Experience

Preserving the history and legacy of Salinas Chinatown

Rantings Of A Third Kind

The Blog about everything and nothing and it's all done in the best possible taste!

Sauce Box

Never get lost in the Sauce

GK Dutta

Be One... Make One...

Cee's Photo Challenges

Teaching the art of composition for photography.

Fashion Not Fear

Fueling fearlessness through style and inspiration.

Wanderlust and Wonderment

My writing and photo journey of inspiration and discovery


Decades of her words.

John Oliver Mason

Observations about my life and the world around me.

Insanity at its best!

Yousuf Bawany's Blog


Any old world uncovered by new writing

unbolt me

the literary asylum

CSP Archives

Archive of the CSP

The 100 Greatest Books Challenge

A journey from one end of the bookshelf to the other

Random Storyteller

A crazy quilt of poems, stories, and humor


Just another weblog