October 31st, 2008
The islands
Quest for Glory V was a denouement of sorts in a lot of ways. The game takes place in the kingdom of Silmaria, which is modeled after ancient Greece. The concept of many small islands connected by a series of boats and ferries is something familiar to me, so travelling in between the various islands of Venice via vaporetti is particularly entertaining for me.
The rain has been virtually constant since this morning, but fortunately its more of the drizzle to light variety, as opposed to the “heavy rain” forecast by The Weather Channel earlier this week.
This morning I departed via vaporetto to il cimetero on San Michele Island. Though photography is prohibited, I managed to take a few shots by retreating to a secluded corner of the graveyard. If you think about it, it seems odd to have a graveyard on an island in a lagoon, as you can’t dig down to bury anyone. Accordingly, all of the graves at San Michele are above ground, in a series of multilevel vaults.
After il cimitero, I continued on to Murano, which is famous for being the traditional glass-making center of Venice, and moreover historically Europe itself. I’ve been trying to pace myself and account for the strain of carrying multiple camera bodies and lenses all over the island; I have two days left. So periodically I pick up a new panini and keep half in my bag, along with a bottle of cheap COOP tea. Currently I’m enjoying my first Italian draft beer at a small pub on the north side of the island.
Before I left Japan someone asked me if I’m accepted as European when travelling abroad. Forgetting the cheapo approximation of the US flag on my right jacket sleeve, actually for whatever reason I am indeed often interpreted as being an EU native. This may be a bit of a stretch, and the more correct statement of facts may be just that Europeans are not ones to go out of their way to speak English and they simply start talking at me with the hope that I understand the language at hand. Most times people start in German or Italian and only resort to a few words of English when the bare minimum for communication stalls. I am holding my own a lot better in Italian than in German; my confidence is a lot higher and I make a greater effort to initiate transactions with as much detail as possible so I don’t have to try and parse anything my partner question says. Interestingly, when I did buy a sandwich in Murano today, the clerk thanked be with a succinct “merci.” This isn’t the first time I’ve been mistaken for being French.
