We woke early-ish as we had (finally) booked the tour of Manila. So off the ship and onto Philippine soil. The tour took us to the “Old Spanish Quarter” where we saw the place where Rizal was kept and executed, and there was a collection of artefacts relating to his life. It dawned on me that I’d never questioned who Rizal was, even though the park near my school was Rizal Park. Then off we went to St Augustine Church, which apparently escaped bombing in WW2. How little I know about the history of the Philippines – 333 years of Spanish Rule (hence all the Spanish names and the prominence of the Catholic Religion), then 40 something years of the Americans. Hence all of the American accented English. Apparently after Rizal’s death, the Philippines declared itself independent of Spain, but Spain didn’t accept this. In a separate U.S. vs Spain war, the U.S were successful and the U.S. gained the territories of the Philippines, Guam and Puerto Rico. Then the US gave the Philippines independence in 1946. (Which means to my mind that they illegally ran the country from 1898 – 1946.
Back on Board: I have found a favourite place in the Murano Bar. I sit and read, or sit and listen to the music. There is a duo – a violinist accompanied by a piano. Today’s show included “Memory” (from “Cats”), and “Granada”, and then they played “Melody in F’, one of my favourite pieces of music. Tonight I listened, and treated myself to a cocktail – a “Bailey’s Alexander”. I‘ve decided to treat myself to ”The Cocktail of the Day”, each day. Tomorrow is “Pina Colada”. By the time the cruise is over I will have sampled 14 or so. Then I’ll retire. From Cocktail drinking.
For some reason the waiter at the bottom of the stairs this morning greeted me with “Bonjour”. So I bonjour-ed back. He then asked “Ça va?” so I “Ça va-ed” back. Must have been effective because he continued to show me to the table in French and we weathered the “Café noir ou café au lait” bit. Luckily I was then joined by some English speaking people because I’d pretty much exhausted my French. But after lunch I was farewelled with “Merci. Au revoir”. Do I look French? I wish!!!
Just sitting in the auditorium. A group of loud Aussies nearby. Mr Oz jut asked – loudly, “Where are you from?” to a dark skinned attendant. He replied “India”. “India” Mr Oz repeated. “Many people in India?” Derrrr…. The loud Aussie is every bit as ugly as his American counterpart.
