Not Quite Terminal

I did it!  Okay, so I didn't do it quite the way I had thought I would (i.e., head first or upside down) but I did it.  The Nevis Swing is the biggest swing in the world.  It's a 70 m vertical drop, with an arc of about 300 m.  People can reach a speed of 125 km/h.  So, you don't quite achieve terminal velocity, but it doesn't really matter.  It feels fast enough.  But tell me what you think.

"Hope when the moment comes you'll say, I, I did it all"

Too Much Awesome

I forgot to mention in yesterday's post that Air New Zealand has quite frankly the best cabin safety video of all time.  In what they called "the most epic safety video", the entire thing has a Lord of the Rings theme.  There are a few cameos and they were able to use elements from the movies to explain how to buckle your seat belt and use the oxygen mask.  There were elves, dwarves, orcs, everything.  Seriously, very awesome.

Today's drive through Middle Earth was also awesome.  We left Christchurch and headed south to Aoraki/Mount Cook.  It was really overcast to start, but by the time we got to the mountains it was clear and sunny.  Then the awesome scenery started.  Honestly, sometimes there is just too much awesome to take in all at once.  I tried taking photos from the car (because we weren't stopping for anything), but I'm sure they're blurry and don't quite capture just how amazing it was to see it.  The snow capped mountains peaking above the clouds, the lakes that were so blue and smooth they didn't look real.  At the mountain, we hiked the trail that took us up close to one of the glaciers and had a better view of Mount Cook.  As we made our way from Mount Cook to Queenstown, we went through Lindis Pass which was basically driving between 2 mountain ranges.  The awesome kept going even as we were getting into Queenstown, which is situated within the mountains next to a lake with spectacular views all around.  I've already declared it my new favourite place.

It's late and the epic journey continues tomorrow as I dive off a platform using the world's tallest swing.  To be continued (hopefully)...

"Don't believe me, just watch"

Middle Earth is a Fortress

First off, greetings from the far future.  Eighteen hours ahead of home, it's safe to say that whenever you're reading this, I'm already in tomorrow.

If you ever decide to go to New Zealand, be ready.  It's like being in a really intense episode of "Border Security".  I have never been grilled at customs like we were upon entering Christchurch.  Then, after getting through the third degree and picking up our luggage, we were asked again if we had any food on us, then our bags were x-rayed, then the sniffer dog came to check them.  Like, wow.

It's been a bit of a blur since last night.  We got in really late, then had to wake up to fit in as much as we could since we only had one day in Christchurch.  I want to say it's a nice place, and I'm sure it is, but looking around at the empty lots, the crumbling buildings, the steel girders bracing walls, and the abundant amount of scaffolding, it makes me kind of sad, like we're looking at a war zone.  Of course, having to rebuild after a major earthquake is going to take time, just like any place that's recovering from a natural disaster (think Haiti).  And they've come up with some interesting ways of dealing with it for now.  The Re:START Mall is a shopping centre built out of shipping containers.

The main cathedral was seriously damaged.

So they build the Cardboard Cathedral.  Literally.

I'm still glad I made a stop here.  But no time to waste.  Next stops: Aoraki/Mount Cook and Queenstown.

"Pretty soon I'll be getting on my first plane, I'll see the veins of my city like they do in space"

The Things You Learn

They thought it would take them three years and $7 million to build the Sydney Opera House.  It took them sixteen years and $102 million.  But it's pretty much stayed the same since it opened around 40 years ago, so I guess they got their money's worth.

Manly was named after some good looking aboriginal guys.  No, I didn't see any.

Sydney's been interesting.  Not, as my mother claimed, like Canada from the 1970's.  I even understood what most people were saying.  I tried some Vegemite (as I suspected, it's not for me), I ate some kangaroo, I got to lie on one of the most famous beaches in the world, I rode ferries almost daily.

I would write more but I have to find a bank machine to reset my credit card pin, and then we have to head to the airport to start the next part of the adventure.  See you in Christchurch.

"Livin' easy, lovin' free, season ticket on a one way ride"

Woolloomooloo!

Woolloomooloo has become my new favourite place where I wished I lived ONLY so I could say the name on a regular basis. It has replaced the longtime former favourite, Rancho Cucamonga, which still runs a very close second because I once really had a legitimately possible chance to live there. Granted, Woolloomooloo's origins are a bit unsavoury, mostly due to the proximity to the naval base, but it's cleaned up in recent years.

After a couple of long plane rides, we've made it to Sydney. Within hours of arriving, I was able to witness my first funny thing: they take the whole “left-hand side” thing very seriously, and not just in driving. On the escalators at the train stations, you stand on the left hand side and walk on the right. Even on the Sydney Bridge, people were naturally walking/running on the left hand side of the path.  It's weird because everywhere else, even in Hong Kong, it's always been "stand left, walk right" on the escalators.  I guess everything is backwards here.  We have yet to see if the water swirls in the opposite direction, mostly because the toilets here are European designed, which essentially means that they dump water straight down at full force.  As much as that sounds effective, sometimes it's really not.

This is the furthest into the future that I've ever travelled (sixteen hours ahead).  It's also full blown summer temps so I've been a sweaty mess for most of the day, and my head is pretty mixed up right now.  Must sleep and reboot.

"Do you come from a land down under, where women glow and men plunder"

The Hong Kong Life

A long time ago, I went to visit my cousin when she was studying at McGill in Montreal. My cousin and I grew up together and we were pretty much like sisters. I stayed with her and her roommates for a couple of days, and in that time, I remember being very surprised about what my cousin was really like outside of our family environment. It was essentially an eye-opening experience.

At this stage in the game, I don't think there is anything that my brother could do that would surprise me. He's been playing in an Ultimate Frisbee league since he arrived in Hong Kong, and although I did visit him here a couple of years ago, I didn't meet any of his friends until now. I went out to meet a few of them and I'm glad that they are a diverse group of really nice people. Nice people who drink a lot. And I knew that my brother drinks a lot too, but it's been some time since I've gone drinking with him. I also have to admit, it's been a long time since I've been classified as completely drunk. Perhaps my body realized it too and did not appreciate it as much as it used to. I was in pretty poor shape the next day.

My brother's apartment is nice.  Recently renovated, clean, bright, sparsely furnished.  There are some things to get used to, like how you have to go through the kitchen to get to the bathroom, and how you have to turn on the water heater ten minutes before you take a shower. There is a washing machine but no dryer, and in this climate nothing ever really dries properly. All you can do is keep the air conditioner on and hope that it will remove most of the moisture from your clothes. The building itself is a little scary when you first look at it. The hallway is dark and dingy, there are tiles missing on the floor, and the elevator is claustrophobic (although that's not really uncommon here). I guess that's mostly how Hong Kong is – a bit worn out on the outside, shiny and new on the inside.

That's all from HK for now.  Happy New Year!

"Say, we can go where we want to, a place that they will never find, and we can act like we come from out of this world, leave the real one far behind"

Wan Chai

It's amazing how one can leave a place where the thermometer reads -26°C and just several hours later be in a place that's 22°C. But that's what I did, leaving frigid Canada behind and going to Hong Kong as part of this year's epic travel adventure. It was unusually hazy and muggy when I arrived. My brother showed me the alarming pollution index for the day. The humidity was already giving me uncomfortable flashbacks from my last visit, but since my poor dry, cracked hands almost immediately started healing upon arrival, I decided I'd stick it out.  I just wished my hair would stop expanding.  Thank goodness I brought my flat iron with me.

People who know me know that I love British period dramas. So, naturally, I'm a big fan of Downton Abbey. You can't imagine my giddy delight a few weeks ago when they were somehow able to work Wan Chai into one of the storylines. This just happens to be where my brother lives (but in modern times). It doesn't look very different from North Point, where he lived the last time I was here (to be honest, every street in Hong Kong looks the same the me).  Some parts of the area are known for being a district of the red light variety, but it's very close to the downtown shopping areas, so it works for me.

On the first night here, we went out for Korean fried chicken (a slightly different KFC experience) and tried to understand the various K-Pop music videos that were playing on the screens.  It made me realize how little sense most pop music videos make in general.  And yeah, every boy and girl group looked the same.  Seriously.

Back at my brother's apartment we sat around, drinking beer, catching up, and listening to his playlist of classic alternative featuring the likes of Radiohead, Foo Fighters and Smashing Pumpkins, and it completely felt like we were back home, and not on the other side of the world in a different country.  I guess it reinforces the idea that home is wherever you make it.

"And I wonder, when I sing along with you, if everything could ever feel this real forever"

This is Heavy

Another new year.  Except this isn't just any year.  We've officially come Back to the Future.  I'm sure this will be referenced MANY times in the coming months, same as how we were partying like it's 1999, or preparing for the end of the world in 2012.  But it's still staggering to realize that it's been 30 years.  No flying cars or self drying clothes yet (that we know about).  It's pretty fascinating to see what we thought the future was going to look like.

As for my future, it looks like a mixed bag so far.  It's my zodiac year, the Year of the Sheep. Counterintuitively, it's supposed to be a bad year for me.  So I'm mentally gearing up for that, carrying any and all kinds of tokens and charms that my mother gives me.  Coincidentally, the last time it was my year, twelve years ago, I started writing this blog.  I can't remember how that year went.  I guess I'll have to go back and read about it.

I'm not taking this unfortunate news lying down.  In fact, in two weeks, I am jetting off again into The Future (aka Hong Kong).  I will ring in the Chinese New Year in a flurry of fireworks with my brother.  Then we'll be going Down Under and to Middle Earth.  To call me excited would be a serious understatement.  I am determined to do something crazy, which in this case involves jumping into a gorge on a swing with a rope the length of a rugby field.  I've already booked the jump, but thinking about how this is not going to be the best year for me has made me realize that this was perhaps the worst idea ever. Oh well.  Let's tempt fate together.

"Don't need no credit card to ride this train"

Universal Suffrage

It's a weird term, universal suffrage, and I didn't immediately recognize the meaning when my brother used it a while ago.  Sometimes it's hard to remember that there are still places in the world that don't have it - the right for everyone to democratically vote for their governmental representatives.  And my brother was right in the middle of it.

Hong Kong made some front page news a couple of months ago when thousands upon thousands of people clogged the busiest streets in the city to protest the Chinese government's decision to vet the candidates who would run for the first democratic election of the region's chief executive, which will happen in 2016.  Made up of mostly students and pro-democracy activists, the people wanted free elections as well as the immediate resignation of the current chief executive, a deeply unpopular guy.  One of the fascinating points during the course of the sit-in demonstration was that the government's use of pepper spray and riot police had the exact opposite effect on the protest - it actually made it bigger.

So, now, months later, there are still people sitting in the Central, Admiralty, and Mong Kok districts, protesting for their right to universal suffrage.  My parents are over there right now, visiting my brother and other friends and relatives, but back in October my father told me that he didn't agree with the protestors.  Even though he's been living here, in a democratic society, for the majority of his life.  I found it a bit surprising and odd, but then he gave his reason. I think he felt that the students were demanding more than what we in Canada have.  We actually don't get to elect our Prime Minister.  A much smaller group of people decide who the leaders of the parties will be, and then based on the MPs who are successfully elected, the leader of the party with the majority (or largest minority, as the case may be) becomes Prime Minister.  I had to admit that he had a point.  Sometimes I find that I'm torn between the individual I want to represent me and the party I want to have the power in parliament, which would result in the Prime Minister we will have to make decisions for the whole country.  It all gets a bit diluted in the end.

The fact that China agreed for Hong Kong to have elections of any kind was already a huge step up.  The chief executives had been appointed by a committee since the handover in 1997, and prior to that, the Governor of Hong Kong was appointed by the British monarch.  They haven't had any kind of choice for their leader in over a hundred years.  As it is with everything, baby steps are probably the best way to go.  We really have to remember who we're dealing with.  China is still, despite their recent capitalistic tendencies, a Communist country.  China is not going to back down on their decision for Hong Kong's first election.  I will be supremely surprised if they do.

All of these events led me to really consider our own elections last month.  Unfortunately, since I live just outside of Toronto, I wasn't able to vote for the mayor.  I'm not sure if the end result will lead to positive changes or not, but I think just the fact that we had a choice at all was important, and I'm glad that more people showed up to vote than in previous years.  Baby steps.

"Everyone here is ready to go, it's been a hard year with nothing to show"

Soundbites

This year's TIFF experience can only be described as a mixed bag.  Given that it was the busiest one to date (I was downtown every day for 2 weeks straight), the odds are pretty good that it would have been interesting, if not eventful.

So, in between working, volunteering, and sometimes sleeping, I was able to see 12 films this year:

Out of Nature
My Old Lady
Cart
Do I Sound Gay?
Jauja
The Cobbler
Preggoland
This Is Where I Leave You
Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet
Adult Beginners
What We Do In The Shadows*
The Imitation Game*

(* MUST SEE FILMS!)

As a result, there are just too many moments to mention, so I'll try to condense it all into decently sized soundbites (in no particular order):

The Close Encounters

The unavoidable celebrity sightings this year included one that was not my own (my friend, on returning home from San Francisco, saw Jake Gyllenhall waiting at the luggage carousel like a normal person), some that were super close (Robert Pattinson, Patricia Clarkson, and Adam Sandler), and some that were just out of reach (John Cusack!).  For the record, Patricia Clarkson is the loveliest person.  In the span of 2 days, I twice witnessed as she rolled down the tinted window of the car, leaned out and either expressed her hope that we would be successful getting rush tickets to her film or thanked the people waiting after the screening to get her photo or autograph.  For the first instance, I just waved and didn't mention that we were waiting for a different film.

The most ironic scenario occurred as my fellow volunteers and I formed the human barricade to let Roger Waters (of Pink Floyd fame) move from his limo short bus to the waiting throngs of middle aged guys asking him to sign their vinyl albums before heading in through the back door of the theatre.  When he was clear of the sidewalk, the head rep told us to let the pedestrians pass but to close ranks in front of the entrance to make sure nobody rushed in.  As soon as we did it, we all looked at each other and someone said what I think we were all thinking: "I am a brick in the wall.  Literally."

The Q&A's

The best Q&A was the one with Viggo Mortensen.  After watching an "interesting" film called Jauja, we were treated to a rambling story about filmmaking and a mini debate about certain scenes in the film (as for me, I'm still processing it).

The most surreal Q&A had to be the one for My Old Lady, where the TIFF moderator brought the whole thing to an abrupt halt when he fainted on stage.  Kevin Kline was a hero and rushed over to him immediately, and while they waited for medical assistance, the audience quietly exited the theatre.

The funniest Q&A was for What We Do In The Shadows, where the filmmaker and star maintained a complete deadpan and serious discussion about what it was like to make a documentary about vampires living together in a flat in the suburbs of New Zealand.  That is, until someone in the audience asked an actual question about the movie, disappointing him greatly ("You broke it").  However, the moderator salvaged it by spinning the question into something relating to the vampires.

The Power of Persuasion

I found myself extremely susceptible to suggestion this year.  Whilst waiting in the rush line for The Cobbler, the couple ahead of me got take-out from Salad King.  I had already eaten, so it didn't make me hungry.  But the idea got stuck in my head and, lo and behold, the next day I went to Salad King for dinner.

A friend of mine asked for tickets to see Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet.  Since it was showing around 4:00 on a Friday, there were ample tickets available and I was able to get 4 tickets for 1 voucher.  She only needed 3, so at first I thought she could just invite another friend or give the spare ticket away to someone on the street.  But then I read the synopsis and thought about it a bit.  I had taken the day off work to see films and volunteer, and although I would have to run out of one theatre and back in to see it, and it would have been my third film of the day, I was persuaded to hustle my butt over there and see it.  I'm glad I did.

The Karma

Speaking of The Cobbler, it was the only premium screening I chose to rush this year.  It also was the first day of cooler weather during the festival.  I had not chosen my wardrobe wisely, and I had about 3 hours of standing to look forward to.  The Salad King couple were actually the first 2 people in line, and when someone came around asking if there was a single person looking for a ticket, they jumped on it first despite not being alone.  They eventually scored another free ticket so they left the line, propelling me to the front.

As most of the feeling left my feet, one of the front of house staff came up and asked if I was waiting for the film.  When I said yes, she pulled a ticket out and gave it to me.  I willed my feet to start moving and followed her towards the theatre.  Before I reached the ticket holders' line, she told me she could put me in the lobby if I so desired.  I couldn't believe my luck.  Not only was I able to sit down somewhere moderately warm, but she told me that when she started to bring the line inside, I could just casually join it.

The unmentioned perk was that the red carpet was still going on.  Once I was able to feel my lower limbs again, I went up to the velvet rope and got a pretty good look at Adam Sandler as he walked past me.  I felt awkward asking for a selfie, so I just tried to snap photos as he went and consciously took a good look at him in real life.  I'm sad to say that, not only did he dress like a hobo to his own film premiere, but he's also really starting to age a bit.  Gravity is doing a number to his face.  Where did Happy Gilmore go?

The Lowrider

Volunteering at Ryerson all these years has proven that you will always see something unexpected (although it's been years since the Borat episode).  This year, the best had to be the lowrider.  During a break in the torrential downpour, a guy pulled up to the apartment building across the street and proceeded to gas all of us with diesel fumes while he idled the car and waited for his passenger.  He completely fit the image of a guy with that kind of car...until we saw the little fluffy white dog sitting on his lap.

After quite some time, he leaned on the horn.  A woman eventually emerged and got into the car.  A rare pantomime occurred, because we were guessing an argument was happening but we couldn't hear anything.  The woman then got out of the car, slammed the door, and walked back into the building.  The lowrider then took off down the street.

The Odd Sightings

As I said, something weird always happens at the Ryerson.  During one mostly uneventful weekend afternoon, a guy came up to one of the other volunteers and told her he thought he was having a heart attack.  Naturally, she was a bit taken aback, and she asked him if he wanted someone to call 911, but he just walked away.  She was a newbie and didn't know what to do, but I reassured her that if he's able to walk down the street, he's probably not having a heart attack.  This was confirmed when we saw him walking back up the street minutes later.

My favourite volunteer shift was for the premiere for the documentary Do I Sound Gay?  First of all, it was impossible to help anyone without them making a bad joke about it ("No, you don't").  Secondly, there were dozens and dozens of people connected with the film (in addition to the filmmaker having many friends, the film was apparently financed by Kickstarter or some other crowd funding scheme).  But luckily, everyone associated with the film was wearing a t-shirt or a button with the logo of a mouth with a rainbow tongue sticking out, so it was incredibly easy to tell who should be let into the red carpet area.  I wish every production company would do that!  And finally, not to feed into the stereotypes that the film touches on, but there were a lot of people attending the film who exhibited their own unique style, so to speak.  Including the woman with the moustache, who basically confused me for several minutes before I gave up trying to figure it out.

"We don't need no education"

A Room With A View

Two words: never again.

Since I've already been to Florence, I really wanted to go to Pisa.  Thinking that I could navigate the train system, I figured we could do both.  But then a couple more people wanted to come with us, so I said sure.  Then a few more, and their parents.  Okay.  Then a few more.  And their parents.  By the time we head out in the morning, we had a group of 16 people, 6 of whom were a little elderly.  This had disaster written all over it.

We missed the first train so we had to wait an hour for the next train to Pisa.  Once there, we had to walk a little bit until we got to the Field of Miracles, where the tower and the cathedral were situated.  Before everyone scattered, we agreed on a meeting place and time.  I spent most of it using my friend's mobile wifi hotspot to figure out our next move.  I was able to get a selfie with the tower before we moved on.

The train station we needed to reach to catch the train to Florence was a 20 minute walk away.  Everyone wanted to take taxis, so we tried to find one.  There was a 6-person taxi who took the first group.  It took a while to flag down another, but it would only fit 4 people, so we sent off the next group.  After what seemed like forever, the original 6-person taxi showed up again, so we piled in and left.  Unfortunately, we missed the direct train to Florence, but we quickly got tickets and piled onto the next train, which would take a little longer due to the stops.

By the time we got to Florence, we really only had about 30 minutes before we had to catch the train to go back.  After bathroom breaks and buying our return tickets, we walked to the Duomo.  It wasn't hard to spot.  People started scattering again, but it was so crowded and loud, I was afraid we were going to lose someone.  Janet had the good sense to gather the elders and start walking back to the station first.  I stayed back, made sure we had everyone, then did a mad sprint back to the station.  Running through the roundabout was probably the worst idea, but we had a minute to go.  By some miracle, we all made it onto the train as it was about to pull out.

The stress wasn't over yet.  We had to change trains in Pisa, and according to the schedule we had a five-minute window.  If we were late, or the other train left early, we'd be in trouble.  Luckily, the second train was late, so we were able to make it without too much running.

So the room, in my case, was a train car, and the view was mostly of the Italian countryside speeding past the window.  I felt terrible that they didn't get to see much of Florence, but they all said they appreciated my efforts, which was nice.

But still...never again.

"You better know know know that I have conditions, I make the rules and make the decisions"

Grand Prix

One of my coworkers came to Monaco last year to watch the Grand Prix.  I'm sure it would have been pretty thrilling, but given our timeframe, it probably would have made it more difficult to get through the city than it already was with the train strike.  We had to take a taxi to and from Villefranche-sur-Mer, but luckily our group was small and we fit into one.

Not a whole lot to see, except for the evidence of how the 1% of the 1% live their lives.  We paid our respects to Princess Grace and Prince Rainier at the cathedral.  We gaped at the yachts parked in the marina.  We took photos of the extremely fancy (and sometimes ironic) cars.

Funnily enough, the best part came once we had returned to Villefranche-sur-Mer and were shopping in the little stores by the port.  We found foie gras at a decent price in little glass jars.  I knew I was taking a risk of having my clothes smelling like duck liver by the time I got home, but it was totally worth it.

"Standing where I am now, standing up at all, I was used to feeling like I was never gonna see myself at the finish line"

The French Connection

Marseille was by far the most surprising stop of the cruise.  I think it was because I had absolutely no expectations.  I didn't know any famous landmarks, I didn't know what it was known for (other than bouillabaisse).  It was just another stop in the south of France.

The old port is actually really nice.  We took a little tourist train up the hill to the giant cathedral, Basilique Notre-Dame de la Garde, which again was a good call because the uphill was pretty intense.  Another very impressive religious building, another very impressive aerial view of a European port town.  However, a little off shore on a tiny island, you could see the Chateau d'If, which was the inspiration for "The Count of Monte Cristo".  I've never read the book before, but ironically it's been a part of several films I've seen a number of times (The Shawshank Redemption, V for Vendetta).

We didn't get to try the bouillabaisse, but I was able to do some shopping.  It turns out that Marseille is known for olive oil soap.  And, of course, I forgot about the Herbs de Provence.  I know, it's just herbs, but these are actually from Provence!

"I've got my mind made up, man, I can't let go"

Love and Basketball

So, as it turns out, there aren't a lot of well-known films that are set or filmed in Barcelona.  The only other one was "Vicky Cristina Barcelona", which would have been a bit too obvious.  And I haven't actually seen either of these films, but I thought this one made a more interesting blog title.

One of the things I found myself doing during most of this trip was the touristy stuff.  Things that I had, in the past, avoided like the plague.  In the case of Barcelona, I found myself on a Hop-On-Hop-Off double decker bus.  You know, the ones with the open roof.  I see them all the time downtown and I use them as a gauge to determine if it's a busy tourist period or not.  I had never ever considered getting on one of these before.  But, with limited time and a large group, it made the most sense.

The buses I've seen have always had a person on a microphone, talking about what you're looking at on the left or right of the bus.  In the age of technology, it seems that the person has been replaced with an automated recording in about a dozen different languages.  You just plug the provided earphones into the jack by your seat and choose the channel that corresponds to your language.  It makes so much sense.  However, the problem remains that by the time they tell you about the thing you're looking at, there's almost no time to get a decent photo of it.

We were able to see pretty much the majority of the city, if only for a brief moment.  We did stop at the Basilica de la Sagrada Família, the church that will never be completed.  Gaudí was a stickler for details, that's for sure.  We also took the cable car up to the top of the hill to Montjuïc Castle.  Finally we were able to walk around Las Ramblas before heading back to the boat.  Not a lot of shopping to be done, but we did get to eat.  Mmm...paella...

"I had this perfect dream, this dream was me and you"

Pompeii

Okay, so I heard this was a terrible movie.  But this was easily one of my favourite stops of the cruise.

Being a wimp, I decided to pay the silly shore excursion fee and let someone else guide me through the ancient wasteland.  The first thing was to hike up Mount Vesuvius.  The volcano (which is still active) is about 1,200 metres tall.  Luckily, the bus took us up the first 1,000 metres (through a number of harrowing twists and turns), and then we just had to hike up the remaining 200.  Sadly, a haze had settle over Naples that day, so we couldn't get the view of the city or of the island of Capri, where most of our group had gone.  But the view of the crater was excellent (once we got there).

Mount Vesuvius blew up and destroyed the neighbouring towns like Herculaneum and Pompeii in 79 AD.  This was exactly 1,900 years before I was born.  For the closer towns, everyone was pretty much killed instantly, but Pompeii was destroyed 2 days after the eruption.  Someone asked the tour guide why the people didn't run away.  The simple answer was that, at that time, nobody knew what was happening.  We take knowledge for granted so much these days.  A click of a button and we can learn about anything we want.  Imagine, there was a time when people didn't know what a volcanic eruption was, or that they should get the hell out of there when it happens.  On the other hand, even with all of this crazy technology, some things still remain a mystery...

"But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?"

Gladiator

The one thing about Rome that I appreciated the most was the water.  Everywhere (mostly near every church, piazza and fountain but sometimes in the most unlikeliest places) there are nasoni - water spouts that continuously dispense clean spring water for the public.  They even have a neat design where if you block the outlet with your hand, the water would be diverted through a hole in the top so that you can drink directly from it without having to turn your head upside down.  Some people would use it to splash water on their heads to cool off, others put a bucket underneath to gather water to clean clothes or tools, but most people used it to refill their water bottles.  I have never, ever, drank so much water in one day in my whole life.  I refilled my bottle a dozen times or more.  Every time I saw a nasone, I immediately pulled out the bottle and got in line.  It's amazing that I have any electrolytes in me at all anymore.

Today was the big day: the Colosseum.  But first, as the guide book suggested, I was going to go to the Roman Forum and Palentine Hill, which is included in the admission ticket and is where you can buy it without having to wait in an enormous line.  I stopped at the Campidoglio first, thinking it would flow naturally from one site to another.  But, once again, I found myself circling the perimeter, trying to find the entrance.  However, I did end up passing by Circus Maximus, where the great chariot races were held.  I eventually made it into the Forum.  It was really neat seeing what was once a great city.  The Colosseum was worse than the Vatican for lineups.  But I was able to breeze through again.  In a word - amazing.  The place could hold up to 70,000 people back in the day.  The history in Rome is mind boggling.  Stone paths walked on millennia ago by emperors and scholars, marble columns that have stood for ages, statues of real people who have long turned to dust.  The size of the buildings they could build with the technology they had on hand is unbelievable.

The one thing Rome didn't really do well was their transit system.  There are two subway lines that run through part of the city and intersect at one point in the middle.  They are in the process of building 3 more lines, but those are years away.  Their bus system is kind of wonky too.  It's based on the honour system, like a lot of European train systems are.  The bus drivers only drive and let people on or off; they don't check fares.  There's also no cash fares - you have to pre-purchase a ticket from somewhere else, like the subway station or at tobacco shops.  Occasionally, an agent will board a bus and start checking everyone.  If you don't have a valid ticket, you'll get fined on the spot.

I met up with my friends in the evening, and we decided to go out and take night photos of the main tourist sights.  We were also going to meet up with my friend Peter's sister at the Spanish steps.  We weren't close to the subway line, so we decided to try the bus.  After staring at the signage for a while, Victoria decided to ask the guy sitting at the stop for help.  Luckily for us, he spoke English fluently.  He suggested taking the same bus he was taking and getting off at the last stop, then walking.  We agreed and waited with him.  As we talked more, it turned out he's a musician.  His name was Marco and his band, Stag, performs mostly around Italy but they write and sing English-language pop songs.  He said that Italian is good for opera, but not for other kinds of music.  One of his major influences was Coldplay, which basically sold it for me.  He gave us a copy of his CD, which we're going to share amongst ourselves.  In the end, we were able to take the bus for free and when we got off the bus we said goodbye Italian style (double kiss on the cheeks).  Peter was awkward, to say the least, but he did it anyway.  His only comment was that his beard was scratchy.

"And if you were to ask me, after all that we've been through, still believe in magic, yes I do"

Angels & Demons

As usual, I hit the ground running in Rome.  A little harder than I would have liked.  After the red eye flight, waiting forever (and nervously) for my luggage, and navigating through the train and subway systems, I made it to my hotel five minutes before I had to use my timed ticket to the Vatican Museum.  I dumped my bags into the smallest room imaginable, splashed my face and ran out the door.  I ran out so fast that I realized halfway down the street that I had no maps with me at all.  Luckily, my hotel was right beside the museum, and I had looked the street view of the area before I left home.

I have never been more happy to have pre-booked something in my life than I was when I turned the corner and saw the gigantic lines stretching in both directions from the entrance.  One line was for the tour groups (of which there were dozens and dozens), and the other was for everyone else who didn't reserve their ticket online.  I was able to go straight in, go through security, pick up my ticket and audio guide, and then squeeze my way past the tours to get inside.  I went through the various rooms and galleries, half listening to the tour guides and half listening to my audio guide.  There really was no choice, as wave after wave of tour groups kept coming and going from each location.  It all came to a head when I got to the Sistine Chapel.  For some reason, I had a grander picture in my head.  The room and the paintings in it were definitely impressive, but smaller than I had imagined.  I found the crowd control tactics really amusing too.  This place is a chapel, so naturally they have signs everywhere to be quiet and that photos and videos were not allowed.  So, of course, people were talking and taking photos everywhere.  The white noise would build to a point that the guards would start shushing, and when that didn't work one of them would get on the PA system and say in a very imposing Italian tone, "SILENZIO...NO PHOTO, NO VIDEO".  The noise would die down immediately, but after a few minutes would gradually build again, and the cycle would continue.  I thought that was hilarious.

After the museum, I walked around to St. Peter's Square, and my need for grandiose size was satisfied.  It was enormous, as was the basilica.  It was late in the afternoon so the line to get in was considerably shorter than normal.  While I was inside, was hit by two things: the creepiness of seeing dead popes on display in glass cases, and the sheer disrespect and disregard for the rules shown by almost everyone.  No photos?  No hats?  No sleeveless blouses or shorts?  No touching the monuments?  Yeah, whatever.  I may not be Roman Catholic, or of any denomination, but I try to respect the beliefs and customs of all of them.  I made the decision to just take in the surroundings and not to join in the masses of photo takers.

As I mentioned earlier, I had left the hotel with no map.  But, I knew where my hotel was in relation to the Vatican, so since I had walked halfway around and ended up generally on the opposite side, I thought I might as well continue around and make a full lap, keeping the city wall in sight which would ensure that I wouldn't get lost.  What I failed to realize was that the other half of the Vatican was not only uphill (VERY uphill) but also not designed to be pedestrian friendly.  Add to that an unusual heat wave and I basically trudged my way back to the hotel.  After a much needed shower, I could only think of one thing that I wanted to eat before going to bed...

Gelato.

"Ain't it fun living in the real world"

Roman Holiday

I've been waiting for this for many months (and years before that, I suppose).  My own Roman Holiday.

A friend of mine had recently gotten married in a very small City Hall ceremony.  There was no reception in town.  However, they decided to go on a Mediterranean cruise and invited family and friends to join in.  I think it took me about 2 seconds to think about it before I responded.  The best part was that of all the ports of call for this cruise, I had only been to one place (Florence).  So it was going to be a new adventure, even for me.

Roman Holiday was such a great film.  And it hit me that I'm going to see so many places that were captured in film in some way.  So this will be my Hollywood tour of Europe, starting with the Eternal City. Stay tuned.

"Everything's so small when you're on top of the world"

Ordinary Mundane Miracles

Isn't it odd how some things that are unbelievable achievements or almost miracles, after a while become very ordinary and mundane?  For example, I flew to New York City last week for my annual visit.  I was in a "small" twin-prop plane, and the captain announced after we took off that we would only be flying at 20,000 feet today.  You know, instead of the typical 39,000 feet.  As if hurtling through the air in a tin can with blades whizzing near my head at a mere 20,000 feet was not at all impressive.  I can now travel from one city to another in an hour when a few hundred years ago it could take days.  Not that long ago, you would have to set aside at least a month, and a small fortune, just to travel to Europe and back by boat.  When I get these thoughts, I can't help but feel amazed.

It happened again when my friend and I were walking down the street and stumbled across a very familiar looking firehouse.  We both thought that it couldn't be what we thought it was, but in a manner that has become totally normal and routine, we proceeded to pull out the smart phone and look it up.  And sure enough, it was the firehouse from the Ghostbusters movies.  I remember when the idea of having information in our pockets seemed so futuristic and the stuff of science fiction.  Sometimes, if you stop to think about it, it really is incredible.

But I digress...

Oh New York...no longer a destination, more like an old friend.  Yet even after all these years, I'm still able to find something new to see or experience.  At the same time, I also have my little traditions and rituals, like taking the night photo in Times Square in the same spot, or being stunned by the shoe departments at Macy's and Saks (it never gets old).

Highlight of the weekend: seeing Neil Patrick Harris live on Broadway, in full drag and performing his guts out in "Hedwig and the Angry Inch".  What's remarkable about this is that if my friends had been able to come with me to NYC as planned, I wouldn't have been able to get a ticket to this show.  And I wouldn't have been able to get my hands on a copy of the fake playbill for "Hurt Locker - The Musical", which is hilarious.  Once again, the universe aligned itself to show me that things always do happen for a reason.

Profound moment of the weekend: standing next to the infinity pools at the 9/11 Memorial.  I'm still struck by how SMALL the footprints of those two towers were.  I mean, they are a fair size, but when you stand there and look across, it doesn't seem possible that this was the base that supported a building that was over 100 storeys tall.  Another small miracle of engineering and human ingenuity.

Then realize that they were destroyed by flying tin cans...

"If only New York wasn't so far away, I promise the city won't get in our way"

Halfway to 70

I am now halfway to 70.  That's how I've been describing my age for the past couple of days.  One of my coworkers thought that it sounded negative when I said it like that.  I said, like everything, it's all about perspective.  There are plenty of people who never make it to 70.  I'm already halfway there, which I think is pretty good.  I think it changed her mind when she thought about it too.

Because let's face it, we are in a constant state of aging.  There's nothing anyone can do to stop it.  So why are we wasting precious energy by griping about it?  At the same time, there are people who are always worrying about what they're eating.  They analyze and research and eliminate all kinds of tasty treats and make a conscious effort to eat in a way that will prolong their lives.  Which, if I'm not mistaken, means that they WANT to get old.  But then again, what kind of life would it be, if you deny yourself the pleasures of life?  I don't advocate the "live fast, die young" philosophy.  I also think there can be too much of a good thing.  But since you happen to be alive, why not enjoy it?

At least in moderation...

"Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth"