Act 1
SCENE I. Venice. A street.
Enter RODERIGO and IAGO
The Merchant of Venice
ACT ISCENE I. Venice. A street.
Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO
If imitation is the best form of flattery, Venice, the city, had been flattered many times over. Just think of all the cities that go around with the tagline: "Venice of the East", or "Venice of the Orient". St. Peterburg is a "Venice of the East". Bangkok, when not the "City of Angel, is the "Venice of the Orient". Recently, I learnt that a town in the southern tip of Indonesia Borneo had also took on the tagline. These days, it seems if a town or city has waterways between buildings and boats plying on them, it qualify as another Venice of the East.
I think even the Marina Sands casino has a little Venice under its roof. That's an imitation of the setup in a Macau casino, which itself is an imitation of another casino in Las Vegas. But, there will only be one original.
I head to the Milano Centrale station early, a long day ahead. Used to be, Eurostar meant the highspeed railway linking Paris and London by the channel tunnel. But, the brandname has been extended. There are now Eurostar City train linking the italian cities.
I took one to Venice on 1st class (because I am too old to be eligible for 2nd class Eurail pass.) Like first class on the Swedish trains, food and drinks are serve free on the italian trains. Together with light refreshment, a wet towel and pack of snack, is a choice of italian papers. Everytime the crew came to me with the pushcart, I can sense their hesitation on whether to hand the paper to the Asian guy who probably don't know a word of italian. Well, I can always look at the pictures.
Along the way, I was on the lookup for the coastline of Venice. There was a few false alarm.
About two and a half hour after leaving Milan, I finally saw that body of water that indicate that the train was pulling into Venice. This shallow water served as moat, protecting the venetian from enemy from mainland Italy.
During that 2 hours on the train, I have planned out my afternoon in Venice. I would first take a water taxi from near the train station and get straight to the St Mark's square. Then, after taking in the sights, make my way back on foot. Sounds like a plan. Except the curse of the Paris catacomb strikes again.
On every ticketing machines and counters, there were a notice posted informing the visitor of a labour strike. I couldn't believe my eyes. Of all days the public transport workers could pick to go on strike, they picked today.
I went to the tourist info booth by the station to make sure.
It seems everyone infront of me was having the same question: is the public water taxi on strike? I really respect those behind the counter, if I were them, I would have gone crazy by the time the 10th person ask me that very same question. My turn came, I ask what's thealternative way to get to the St Marco's basilica. I was told I could still take the private boats. I look at the queues at the pier for the private boats...long...I decided, I'll walk.
The problem with walking was not that it would be tiring. I was more afraid about getting lost in that maze of canal and bridges and narrow street that is Venice. This was supposed to be a problem. I guessed many years back, there must have been many incidents of lost tourists knocking on doors of shops and private residents to ask for direction. The venetians had since put up very clear sign which way to the basilica and which way back to the station. So, don't come knocking on my doors again.
Then wind your way through the alleys, across the canal to Rialto Pier.
On the way, there will of course be the gondola. Business, it seems, wasn't really brisk when I was there. More were actually taking pictures than actually taking one for a spin.
Squeeze through the crowd checking out the merchadise in shop and stores by the alleys.
And just when the sun and heat start getting to your head, and you start thinking "how many more of this corners and alleys before the St Marco", you step out of the alley, and right before you is the St Marco Basilica.
Venice is not cheap. The waterfront property here is one of the most expensive in Italy. And venetians here don't expect the tourists to be cheap either. They got rich because business has always been their ...well...business. Quoting John Julius Norwich: "In the rest of Europe, where the feudal system still prevailed and where nobility was based on the ownership of land, trade was despised; in Venice, where there was no land, it was the highest calling...".
While standing at the other end of the square looking on the basilica, I saw a official-looking personnel asking a old couple to not sit on the steps. He wasn't even a real police. Going by his uniform, he was just an official/security guard from the city council. The old couple, a white grandma and granddad protested that they were just resting their tired feet. He wasn't having any of it. If the couple need a break, they were adviced to patron one of the restaurants nearby. In another word, my own intepretation, be a paying customers at one of the fine venetian establishments.
I could hear a Chinese girl complaining to her family: how come that building look so dirty?Although there is a large number of Chinese in the crowd, the lone chinese restaurants were doing almost no business during lunchtime. Their red lanterns old and a bit tattered hang at the entrances, the Chinese waiters standing at the door waiting for business to walk in. Although I don't think the water bus workers that were on strike are Chinese.
After taking in the sight, it's time to go look for the Hard Rock Cafe, to get a HRC teddy bear. It was almost impossible to miss the HRC here. It's about a block from a corner of the most touristy and busy square right here in Venice.
A red banner hang on the beam of the market. The gryphon is an ubiquitous symbol in Venice. So, I assumed Rialto Se No Toca was just the motto to the coat of arms of the city. How wrong I was. It actually meant "Don't Touch the Market."
A quick search on the web shows that the city has plans to move the market away from the prime waterfront area to a more remote part of town. The banner is part of an on-going protest against the move. This remind me of a similar protest in Taipei.
While jostling for space with the summer crowd here, cursing at the heat, I actually thought of how great it would be to be here in the colder low season later in the year. Not a good idea:
By the time I head back into the station, there was a long line for the ticketing counters. I tried my hands with the automated ticketing machine. I could see rows of them at the Milano Centrale station. I tried using them, but to get a free ticket (since I have a Eurail pass, I only pay a small seat reservation fee, the seat itself is free), I have to pick the Rail pass option on the screen. Once that option is picked, another screen ask for the pass code. Now, how the hell am I supposed to know the code. I gave up at Milan. But neccessity is the mother of all invention. With the long queue at the counter, faced with the request for the code at the machine, I simply punch in a string of random number. That was accepted, and the transaction completes and my ticket printed and dispensed.
I had my tix for Venice-Florence, but not Florence-Rome. I tried searching for a sleeper train for Rome, but none exist for tonight. Earlier in Milan, I checked on the machines and there was still a night bus on the Florence-Rome route for tonight. This will allow me some sleep on the way to Rome. But, the seats were by now fully sold out. I hearded out south to Florence, as for how I am getting onwards to Roma, I will cross that bridge when I come to it.
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