Get Out (of) The Expansive China

It was the last city in the last country I was visiting on this so-called "last big trip". Beijing, the 2008 Olympic City was spread before me as I stepped from the train at 7:30 AM on August 1st. Accommodation this time was of a form I'd not used since leaving Australia, Couchsurfing. For those not in the know, a quick rundown is that it is a website full of travelers and people who like to meet travelers, perhaps showing them around, perhaps giving email tips, perhaps meeting for coffee, or, perhaps, offering up a couch or spare bed (or floor) to sleep on. I had vague directions for a guy named Aaron's home. Essentially, a subway ride to Ji Shui Tan station on the circle line, and then I was supposed to say the name of Aaron's apartment complex and a taxi driver would know it and bring me. From there, no idea. And, in fact, the more immediate problem was the same. I was standing outside the west train station with no idea how to get myself to a subway.

Oh, I knew where it was. Somewhere between 1-2km north of the train station if Lonely Planet was to be believed. And I had, I felt, a pretty good feeling of where north was. But I lacked energy or ambition to trek there with my loaded backpacks, so I did what anybody too tired to think clearly would do: I jumped on the first bus I saw and hoped it would head north and cross a subway line. It didn't. In fact, it headed south and, as near as I could tell, away from any and all civilization. No matter, aside from that Aaron was waiting for me to arrive to go to work, I hopped another bus in the opposite direction. It also did not go north - well, it backtracked north to the train station and then proceeded east for some time. East was still okay (I WAS at the West station) as it was generally correct, and soon, sure enough, we were headed north and I got off as soon as I saw a metro line.

For a city that has been pulling all the stops to be ready for Olympic visitors, I was really shocked at the lack of any indication of how to get to the city centre. Although the metro, once found, is really easy to use, the bus lines are another story. On the street, even pinyin (the english-letter version of Chinese) is absent, leaving you to ponder bus numbers and Chinese characters. Once on the bus, the route is marked in Chinese and pinyin, but that is a lot less helpful as you can probably guess. Regardless, I made it without resorting to taxi to the subway and then to the correct stop and was hoping to find Aaron there but no go. That had been the plan as of our last email, but I thought I'd try anyway and see if he was home so I grabbed a cab and sure enough, he knew exactly where we were going. I didn't. So when he dropped me off, I looked up to see rows and rows of apartments and no idea which one might house Aaron. Luckily, he saw me from his place and yelled out my name and soon I was in my Beijing home comfortable and set.

The location was truly excellent. It's only a 10-minute walk from the subway, past little restaurants and in a very local area that I never would've seen were I not staying with a local, of sorts. Aaron's actually an American who moved here partly on a whim and now works in R&D for P&G which is a lot of A&As (acronyms and ampersands). So he has some interesting insights on China, Chinese, and the way things work and don't work in this country, or at least he knows what someone from the west would find interesting about day-to-day life. After a bit of chat and some tips, maps, brochures, and discussion of my final days in Beijing, he was off to work and I was off, after a bit more rest and recuperation, for Tienanmen Square and the Forbidden Palace. The sky, contrary to reports, was blue, the sun was shining, and I had a whole lot of city to see. When I exited the metro I saw an area gated and fenced off that I assumed must be the Forbidden City. As I walked towards it I could discover no entrance though there seemed to be a few people mingling. It was, I'd later discover, an area built to look like it was from the turn of the century with trolleys and so on, and was completely off-limits to any tourist unlucky enough to be in Beijing before but not during the Olympics.

After a short time there I made my way to the real Forbidden City, but that meant walking through Tienanmen Square. That's great, I could go and visit Chairman Mao in his mausoleum; the old dictator's wishes had been ignored and instead of being cremated he was embalmed and is on public display. Or rather, he USUALLY is. Prior to the Olympics, the closest I was getting to Mao was his portrait hanging on the Gate of Heavenly Peace (for which the square is named). While wandering around I noticed I had someone following me and/or surreptitiously taking photos. Locals being fascinated by foreigners is pretty common, although not so much in larger centres, but with the Olympics Chinese are in from all over so it wasn't too surprising. What was surprising was how much he followed me - even after he asked me to have a photo with him I would still turn from a site and see him snapping photos of me looking at the gate or Olympic decorations or whatever. Beijing is crawling with spies and security, so maybe it was that but as I sat down to have a bit of water and ponder it I was approached by three more Chinese who each wanted photos with me. And once they'd worked up the courage a line formed. I later discovered that I had also been filmed by CCTV (Chinese news) looking around the city. Truly bizarre.

By the time I was finished with photos and made it to the Forbidden City, I was forbidden to enter. It was after 4:00 and there was no getting in, so I wandered east and found myself on a street lined with food stalls, pretty much exactly where I'd have gone had I planned it. On Wangfujing Street was everything: snake, starfish, silk worms, crickets, beef, pork, skewered fruits (with or without honey), you name it. So, I had some snacks, starfish included (crunchy but so-so) and went along to the main shopping street. This street is about as western as it gets - big shopping malls, McDonalds, you name it. I did a bit of looking around at the Oriental Pearl mall in particular and stumbled mainly on a movie theatre. So, a quick stop to watch Hancock as I was already exhausted and I was too tired to continue so I went home and slept like a superhero. Soundly.

The next day was likewise beautiful and blue. Aaron invited me to go to a pretty posh pool party but with the clock ticking and time running out on my stay in China and Beijing, I couldn't afford the time to sit around a pool. Instead, I hopped the bus out to the Summer Palace, a beautiful park which, aside from a pool party, is probably the best way to pass a hot summer day in Beijing. Pagodas on the distant hills, a lake named after my first stop in China (Kunming), beautiful bridges, women walking by with umbrellas and boats slipping along in the water, what more could a person want? The park was truly beautiful and a must for anyone visiting Beijing, though I would wait for a nice day to do so. I spent the better part of three hours wandering around and then decided that I would try to take in a few of the Olympic venues that evening. So I hopped the bus (960) from the Summer Palace and found myself across the highway from the Bird's Nest Olympic Stadium and the Water Cube in a sea of people.

Perhaps my timing was unfortunate, but even though I was there, I couldn't get anywhere near the places. Everything was fenced and guarded from a good distance back and I got yelled at trying to take a picture from the pedestrian overpass of the Bird's Nest (I took two anyway). But as I got to the gates I discovered it was a dress-rehearsal for the Beijing 2008 Olympic Opening Ceremonies (tm) and my timing was not so lucky. Even so, I'd been warned by Aaron that without tickets to the Olympics I wasn't going to get anywhere near the stadium or other Olympic venues. So I joined the growing number of people standing along the freeway waiting for dusk to fall and the show to begin. The crowd grew and I was surprised to see how disobedient they were. People jostled for position as close to the front as possible and soon my good spot was usurped by people waiting on the road and then those lining the grassy barrier between the onramp where we were and the highway itself. So I moved up and was the first to sit on the opposite side of the grass along the highway itself. A few people laughed and soon everyone was there and finally the police showed up and sent us all back to our previous line.

I was also the last to leave. I got off the highway but sat on a manhole cover in the middle of the grass that I thought should be perfectly acceptable. Not in traffic or even on the shoulder, not trampling flowers, a good compromise. I played dumb and/or refused to move back as politely as possible and somewhere, someone out there has a great photo of me being told to move back by two police officers losing their patience. Finally I gave in but soon they were gone and the edge not only resumed its original place but crossed to the barrier between either directions of the highway. If it's a dress-rehearsal for the Opening Ceremonies then I feel it's important to show the police what they have to watch out for, so I feel I did my part. The sun set beautifully and then we were treated to bursts of fireworks at unknown intervals which meant that I was never quite ready. If what they showed tonight was a small taste then those attending the actual opening ceremonies are in for a treat.

I tried to make my way back to meet up with Aaron for some Cantonese food at his favourite restaurant, but all the subway lines in the area were closed so I walked three kilometres to a different line and we had dinner. It was quite nice and the closest thing I've had to the Chinese food we get back home. The following morning, we had an interview with Singapore News about Couchsurfing. They chatted with Aaron first about hosting and living in Beijing and then with me about visiting and my couchsurfing experience. To round things off, they took me to my first stop for the day, the Temple of Heaven to do some shots of me touring the city and sights. Hopefully I don't look too much like a bumbling tourist; that little piece should be on the air in the week following the opening ceremonies. As for the Temple of Heaven, it is quite a pretty building set in park grounds that are less pretty but lined with lanterns concealing speakers playing traditional Chinese music which did a lot to compensate.

And finally, I made it to the Forbidden City and managed to enter after someone running the art scam tried to have a go at me. This was impressive but I don't think it was worth the money to enter, which Aaron had told me. That said, I felt I had to enter despite that - it IS the Forbidden City after all - and I didn't feel cheated after, so I won't advise anyone to give it a miss either. But it was some big gates and small buildings and to be honest, the most interesting thing for me - aside from the Hall of Clocks (admission extra) - was the massive copper cauldrons that served as the fire prevention system. They're just, well, massive copper cauldrons, filled with water near all the buildings in case a fire should break out. But it somehow gave a picture of a different time more than the gates and buildings really could. I had dinner at Megabite, a Chinese food court in the Oriental Pearl mall with lots of (expensive) options and pretty good food and then went home.

My final day in China and of this whole trip was reserved for something truly special. It is one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, it is a ribbon of human achievement, and it is something I have wanted to see since I was in third grade. The Great Wall of China awaited. But the wall itself is almost 6500 km long and near Beijing there are several spots regularly visited by tourists. A friend had been there recently and told me how crowded and horrible Badaling (closest and most accessible from Beijing) was. On the contrary, both Aaron and Charlotte were recommending I go to Simatai and look at the section of wall around that area. It is remote, beautiful, not restored (so in some places you are walking on the original wall and not newly replaced bricks) and as an added bonus, furthest from Beijing and the smog that had settled on the city that morning. I had been lucky with the weather up to this point but now things were a bit more back to normal. To their credit, the Chinese said if it was going to continue like this they were going to go from driving alternate days to once-per-month which is commendable. Can you imagine that happening in western society?

So down to the bus station where a woman dressed as an Olympics volunteer offered to help me get where I wanted to go. No busses that direction anymore (I'd missed the early ones) but I could get a mini-bus. That sort of agreed with what I'd read, so I let her lead me... and lead me... and lead me until my suspicion grew quite great. We turned a corner into a small road/alley and I knew I wasn't being brought to just any minibus to split with tourists. I've been in Asia long enough to know a scam when I see it. So I stopped, looked around affecting a tone of worry, and asked if she knew this driver and I would be safe with him? Oh, he's my husband, she assured me, and then I laughed and walked away. That didn't stop them from chasing me down. 400?? We'll give you very good price. Wait for you, bring you back! You tell price. I said 50 which I knew was low but I could take the bus for 15 yuan now that I knew she was lying so I walked away and got myself on bus 980 to Miyun.

The problem with going somewhere less touristed is the difficulty, especially in China. When I revealed my plans to the ticket lady on the bus, she made a big deal about the bus not going where I wanted, but I knew that I had to get off in Miyun and get a mini-bus from there so I wasn't too concerned. Aaron happened to call me in the middle of the exchange and I passed him to her and got everything sorted out and paid my 15 Yuan. 1.5 hours later I was dropped across from a gas station with some eager mini-bus drivers. The prices started high but I worked them down to 50 yuan and still decided I wanted to verify there wasn't a bus or someone to split the ride with in that direction. I hopped back on the next bus but discovered that no, there actually was no bus this time. I also discovered an American-Albanian couple going the same direction and that the prices here were higher. They had been looking around and negotiating for an hour so I took their word that there were no busses and whatsmore, they were being followed by a guy that yelled and screamed at anyone who offered a fair price, and aside from knocking him out there was nothing to be done for it. We even got in a van from someone who offered the three of us a ride for 100 and he jumped in too and started yelling. I was dangerously close to throttling the man, but soon we were underway for 50 yuan - each.

So I went through a lot of extra trouble for nothing but soon we arrived. Not as Simatai, I should've made clear earlier, but at Jinshanling from which Simatai was 10 km away along the Great Wall, though there was at least one part of the wall that was so ruined that the trail actually goes off the wall and comes back on at the next tower. The Great Wall was, well, great and everything I'd hoped for. It was hazy even out here, mostly due to heat and humidity though and not pollution, but still offered breathtaking views of the wall making its way along mountain tops far far along. The initial section near Jinshanling was maintained and an easy walk, but soon was the genuine article, making its way along the countryside in timeless glory, crumbling in parts, steadfast in others. As the trek was along a mountain pass, it was a lot of up and down, sometimes quite steeply, but I was still in good shape (and full of red blood cells) from my time in the Himalayas and I did the four hour walk in two and a half. Which isn't to say I wasn't stopping every 100 metres to gape at the scenery and sheer magnitude of the wall, but it was over before I knew it and I descended the mountain, crossed a river on a suspension bridge, and took a flying fox down to civilization again.

After paying another 50 Yuan to get back to Miyun and catching the last bus (6:00) for Beijing, I got home and Aaron had made dinner which was unexpected and very welcome since I'd not really eaten aside from breakfast. Then we went out with a friend of his for drinks and before I knew it, I was waking up to the day. The day when I go home, when I board the plane for that one final journey, and at the same time the day I get to see friends and family again. I said goodbye, thanked Aaron, and did some last minute shopping before getting on the train for Beijing's new airport. One last stamp in the passport, and suddenly I was on an Air Canada plane and they were talking English and French, though I was still saying 'thank-you' in Chinese. The journey home would be a long one that would doubtless continue well after my physical arrival in Vancouver four hours before I left Beijing and in Saskatoon an hour and a half after. But I was now on the plane, the doors were closed, and it was taxiing to our spot on the runway. The pilot opened the throttles and as I was pressed back in my seat, I watched China slip away as the skies opened above.

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Vientiane on the Quick

I found myself standing on the streets of Vientiane, the capital of Laos, wondering where I was and where I was going. Generally, a bus trip is ended at a known locale or with everyone else at the bus station. This trip ended with a quick turn from a rather majestic looking building into a small side street. It was hardly dire straits. First of all, I knew that we were close enough to the tourist area. Just before our abrupt side-street park, I had seen several places with signs in English for massage, food, and internet. And that majestic building had to be something important: it would surely be on my map. So with a close investigation, I discovered I was at the foot of the Lao Culture Hall and that there were several guesthouses in the streets ahead. I found a pretty decent one for 50,000 kip, the cheapest I was liable to find in the capital, and wandered around. I found myself on the Mekong river again. The Mekong and I had been on a parallel course from the Golden Triangle of Thailand, Myanmar, and Laos down to where I crossed from Thailand to Laos in Huay Xai, sailing two days together to Luang Prabang, and now here. Unfortunately, none of my friends had washed ashore in the capital with me, so I sat on the river having barbecued pork from a food stand, the two of us reflecting on the setting of the sun.

I’m often asked, especially in Asia where such a thing is unheard of amongst locals, how I can travel alone. Who will take my photo?? It has its ups and downs. Ups include a completely selfish itinerary. Where do I want to go today? OK, done. No conferring, no guessing if the other person is being nice or straight, no compromise with anything but your wallet and timetable. You avoid the occasionally awkward, “I want a day to myself” admissions, you meet new people a lot easier (you HAVE to), and if something really goes awry, you can twist the story however you like to anyone back home or simply never admit to it happening. As I enjoy laughing at myself as much as at others, this latter bit almost never happens. The pitfalls are that there are times when it is just you and you don’t want it to be, that you have nobody back home who will enjoy a travel story as much as you, and that things like rooms and transport are invariably more expensive. Vientiane is a place where it is good to have a travel friend, and I was without. I wandered the streets but found nothing social happening. At all. For the first time since… Chiang Mai, I spent the entire day and night without anything more social than a bit of time on Facebook and with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman creating a Bucket List.

My main plan for Vientiane was to spend as little time in it as possible, so I went to the Chinese Embassy the next day to apply for a visa. First, however, I’d decided to see about changing my flight. As much as I didn’t want to get home in the autumn, I wanted to see the Philippines more, so I spent the morning on the phone with Air Canada and then STA Travel, whom I lovingly consider the most useless travel agents on the planet. Air Canada insisted I had to change flights through the agent, and of course they insisted I had to do it through the airline. I can’t believe I was foolish enough to lump a horrible airline with a semi-sentient travel agency. I managed to get both – after far too much cajoling – to check about changing dated and both reported there was nothing through until September. My own internet check revealed a flight on the 14 of August, but hardly worth the change fee. I am definitely coming home August 5. By now, it was afternoon and I went to the Chinese Embassy, negotiating a return tuk tuk trip for 20000 kip. I was told that even with a ticket out, I would be refused a visa without a ticket in and hotel accommodation booked. What with the Olympics, earthquake, and Tibet, they can’t be too careful this year, I suppose. Luckily, Dan, an American friend from Singapore and Luang Prabang had gone through all this already and had some web links ready for me when I came back from the embassy and started on the flight and hotel bit. It appears my first stop in China is to be Kunming, which should be a good base for exploring Tiger Leaping Gorge and hopefully a good jumping off point.

I came back and had an early dinner at an Indian restaurant that, somewhere, I’d heard was good. There was a German girl sitting alone and I asked to join her and we had a great meal and both took some travel tips with us. More and more people are telling me not to bother with Vietnam, and my new thought is to whirlwind it (unless I like it a lot), get a couple weeks in the Philippines, fly from Manila to Hong Kong and then to Kunming. Borneo is sadly off the list. Maybe. Again, traveling alone, I have nobody to commit this to. We parted ways after dinner and I spent the evening finishing A Darkness at Sethanon, the last book of the Riftwar Trilogy, and doing an awful lot of nothing. I actively looked for a nightlife again, but came home empty once more.

The next morning I was at the Chinese Embassy first thing. To get my visa in one day would require $62! Generally they cost around 20, but whatever, I just wanted it done and I’d heard Vientiane was one of the easier places to do it. Afterwards, dropped off by my 20,000 kip tuk tuk which I had to negotiate rather fiercely even having taken one the day prior, I went to look at the next step. Get out of Vientiane, that much was clear, but then? Pakse was the logical choice. It was where I was originally going to meet up with James for a kayak/canoe trip down the river to the 4000 Islands, again along the Mekong. But it turned out that all the busses there left at night and flights were expensive to say the least. I’m not much of a night bus or sleep en route person, though I’d like to be. But the thought of another day in this town didn’t fill me with excitement. I admit this judgement unfair. I had done no sightseeing; no temple gawking; no excellent food missions; no photography expeditions. But I wanted out all the same and it was just coming up on noon.

I rushed back to the guesthouse and managed a late checkout, went and grabbed lunch, and then the rain began. Deluge is a more accurate word, and I was running late for four o’clock, when I was to pick up my passport. I braved the rain in my poncho and stood getting soaked anyway trying to negotiate the proper price – 20000 – to go to the Chinese Embassy and back again. Standing in the rain and playing this game for the third time only to have him tell me such a thing was impossible and all but call me a liar when I told him this was my third such trip was too much. 20000 – yes or no? I’m getting soaked. No. OK, thanks, bye. Walking away, “OK, OK”. Fine. I walk back the 20m and he waits until I start crawling in before he says 35000. I am too livid to do anything but give him my most evil look and trudge off in the rain after another tuk tuk. Finally, I found someone who would do it for 20000 and we were off.

Getting stamps in passports is always an exciting part of entering a country. But getting a visa in advance – my first ever – is far moreso. A pretty piece of paper granting access to a fairly restricted country not only gives a rather ludicrous sensation of importance, but it also leads to thoughts of future travels: The Great Wall, Three Gorges Dam, Tiger Leaping Gorge, Hong Kong, sometimes thinking about places far away gets the travel bug going again. I’m thinking about the excitement of this and of being on a bus this very night to the south of Laos as I get back to the tuk tuk. Where do I want to go, he asks. I think this very polite as generally they just drop you where they got you, which, this time, was all I wanted anyway. 20000 more, he says. Ah! This old scam. Change the terms after you’ve started your business, but we had definitely agreed on a return trip price. The Chinese Embassy is in the middle of nowhere and why on earth would I book one way?

We argued back and forth for awhile where I not only made clear that we had already agreed on a return price, but that I had only paid 20000 for a return trip the two previous times I’d come. I’d had enough and walked away without giving him a cent. He wants to cheat tourists, he can foot the bill for the trip here or try to find another customer. My certainty in his dishonesty was affirmed all the more by the lack of resistance he gave when I started walking. No trying to get money for the one-way fare or anything, he just drove off. Of course, that could be because he thought I had no idea where I was and would never find a way home or a tuk tuk to take me. He was only half right. Since this was my third trip, and each time the driver had come a different way, I had a pretty good idea of what was where. I walked towards some markets and had a bit of a snack, some sort of rice/fish balls and satay, and walked some more. I ran into another tuk tuk driver that spoke very little English and had his friend negotiate. His English was great, and I explained my three trip story to him and he to the driver but still no budging. I said I didn’t think it was a fair price, thanked the interpreter, and was about to walk when they invited me for beer.

Now that’s a new twist. How much for the beer, I asked with a wry smile, wondering at their game. No, no, I buy the beer. So I sat down with Mr. Air (the interpreter) his girlfriend, and two tuk tuk drivers and between us we had four large Beer Lao and some snacks. Mr. Air was very friendly and chatty, also an engineer, and we got along quite well. He offered me a lift back since he was going that direction anyway, and then ended up giving me a bit of a tour of the city. Walking away from that scamming tuk tuk was the best thing I ever did. Exploring Vientiane more, I began to regret my hasty ticket out that very evening. The city is more like a collection of villages with a commercial centre at its heart, and I feel like with a bike I could’ve seen that side a bit more, not to mention had a good guide in an awesome Russian jeep quite possibly. After looking at Patuxai, the Laos equivalent of the Arc de Triomphe (built out of American cement donated for an airstrip), they dropped me off and I was soon on the bus with a familiar face from tubing, the Aussie girl who’d given me a lift on her tube, Hanna. As well, a Dutch girl named Sacha and a Polish couple.

The bus was beds, not seats, which I thought the greatest thing ever until I learned I’d be sharing it with a stranger. And then, when they boarded, it was two strangers, an older man and his grandson. Luckily they made a big deal about it and I wasn’t especially excited looking, and I got my own bed with probably the most legroom of all. Considering that no Asian trip is without breakdown, we made it uneventfully to Pakse at 7 AM, our only stops were to repair the air conditioner (it got quite hot quite fast in there) and in a couple cities. I wasn’t sure whether to spend the day in town or not, so I just tagged along with the Polish couple to go up the Bolaven Plateau to a town called Tadlo. I was going to go up there anyway, might as well keep on moving and get there today.

Although I had friends this time, it was a quiet place with little to do. We settled in at Tim’s Guesthouse and I wandered up along the river past some waterfalls and into a small village with goats and chickens and pigs running everywhere. I didn’t mean to get here, but as I walked up the riverbank I heard a giggling and some kids were running away at the sight of me. I stopped for a bit and they curiously looked around the corner and when I turned to look at them, off they went again. Then back once more to look and I thought it’d be funny to chase them so I pretended to start and they took off laughing. So it was I ended up in this quiet village with nobody that spoke English, kicking a wicker ball around with the kids, taking their photos and letting them take mine (none turned out) and so on. As I was leaving I noticed that one kid hadn’t run after me, he was still working on pounding rice into flour in a mortar and pestel. I took up the other one and helped him for a bit, mostly making a big show of it for the other kids. I made a sort of game of it and when I left, all were crowded around for their turn grinding.

And this is where, for now, the story grinds to a halt. I enjoyed my evening among the clouds on the plateau, and a nice swim in a waterfall after crossing what has to be one of the scariest bridges I’ve ever crossed. The evening was quiet which suited fine because it had been a long two days. Plus, the next morning I would be heading back down to Pakse, back down to the Mekong, which is starting to feel like an old friend. Maybe James wasn’t around, but I was still interested in a trip down the river to the 4000 Islands, 3 day trip or not. Either way, my fate and that of the Mekong would be the same. We would both flow through Pakse, down to the 4000 Islands, and from there into Cambodia before going out to sea. What lay downstream precisely, one never knows, but adventure is sure to be found.

Vientiane and Bolaven Plateau PhotosRead More...

White (Hot) Christmas

As Christmas approached, I began to accept more and more that there would be no Christmas here for me. In addition to being all about family, all the usual cues were absent. Snow, cold, Christmas carols (I don’t listen to the radio, so I don’t hear anything of the sort), all absent. The decorations are definitely up, but I just wasn’t feeling it. The restaurant was busy, definitely that’s a Christmas-time cue, and then it completely died the weekend following Christmas. Then Christmas day came. I dressed for work like any other day, went downstairs, and Daren and Janine were sitting down by the Christmas tree wearing their red hats and telling me Santa had been by. And he got me a red hat too, not to mention a book called The Kite Runner. I have to say that this gesture and waking up to find people in the home besides me made me feel like it was indeed Christmas and there was something special about today. But special or not, I still had to go to work...

I got there early because it was going to be a very big day. And a hot day. In fact, it was 44 degrees Celsius, setting a record and giving Perth the distinction as being the hottest city on Earth that day. I showed up early so I could use the phone to call home, where it was still Christmas Eve, and wish my family a merry Christmas, and then it was time to run around and get everything done. Santa needed to know where to stand, what to do. Christmas menus needed to be on the tables. More salt and peppers needed to be found. Since we were adding a ‘starter’ course, more entrée cutlery needed to be found, too. And then it was noon, we opened the doors, and things went just fine. Sure, the power went out for about 45 minutes thanks to the fact that all our coolers and air conditioning overloaded the circuits, but we trucked on and everybody was quite happy with their meals. Even given the fact that they had prepaid for their meals and only had to settle their drink tab, we still got $600 in tips, which is pretty unheard of here in Australia.

We worked until about 5:30, and then Adam, Cam, and I caught a cab to Scannell’s where a Christmas party was just warming up. A bit of a swim, a few drinks, some bbq, and since we had Boxing Day off for our staff party, Cam and I didn’t want to get too revved up today, so we grabbed a cab home to rest for what would be our real Christmas. Doug and Tom arranged to pick me up and they were a bit late. We were supposed to be at the East St Jetty by 10:30 AM and we were picking up another couple at that point instead. I was worried we were going to miss the boat but we got there just in time to help load up. Whew. It was another scorcher, 45 degrees today, a beautiful shiny day to spend on a boat on turquoise waters sailing out to an island and going for a swim and BBQ. This day was a true Australian Christmas and I was so happy to have been here for it. We set off to the island and parked. You could see a bunch of sea lions sunning themselves on the beach, so I took a swim out there. I wish I could’ve brought my camera, I would’ve had some amazing photos, they really didn’t like being approached TOO closely, but I could get within 10 metres of them sunning and others alert on guard and it was just amazing to me to have them sitting there in the wild and to be right there watching.

I also donned my red santa hat and went for a swim and Crown Lager in the perfect waters and of course took part in the delicious buffet Warwick had provided. Steaks, scallops, prawns, lamb, salads, you name it, it was there. We drank champagne, we ate like kings, and sat on the beautiful waters enjoying the fruits of a very busy Christmas season. But all good things must come to an end, and we found the shore far too soon and after a bit of a situation involving someone stealing drugs from the ship’s medical kit, we were at the Newport having a few drinks, then at Megan’s house making what I can only imagine would be a horrible mess for the next day. I feel pretty bad for her.

I had the next day for recovery, and Daren made dinner, I made dessert, and we say around chatting before going to sleep. Then, some packing, and I was on a plane on the 28th for Sydney, where I would be celebrating New Years Eve. Virgin Blue, not as bad as I thought it would be, they even gave us free TV since the reception was so poor, but after watching a segment on an assassination in Pakistan – I’m so disconnected from world events here, both a nice feeling and disconcerting – I wound up typing up this blog and captioning some photos anyway. My pre-New Years resolution is to get this site back up to date before I leave Sydney, and I’m pretty on track to doing that I think. Anyway, I arrived in Sydney at 7PM and the North Sydney line was closed so I wound up on a bus and then not knowing exactly where I was. Carrying around all my stuff and trying to figure it out with sunburnt shoulders wasn’t as pleasant as it might’ve been, but I found Diane’s finally, and had some nice wine (yup, Rockford) with her and Craig.

The next day I went and picked up some hiking shoes since there were boxing day sales still on; I’ll need them for hiking in Tazzy and probably Asia, too. Then I met up with Jill, whom I met up in Darwin back in September, and Mel for some drinks in Darling Harbour. They were off for dinner and I decided that I’d watch Beowulf in the IMAX since I’d been wanting to see how this “new 3D” phenomenon I’ve been hearing so much about was going to pay off. To be honest, the movie itself wasn’t that interesting and the technology, while definitely adding a dimension to the show, didn’t seem that incredible to me. I guess years of 3D at theme parks and whatever has made it seem gimmicky instead of immersive, which is something I don’t think you want when you’re trying to generate verisimilitude. Maybe as more movies are made in 3D it won’t be as distracting. The next day was more catch up, another movie (No Country for Old Men) which was excellent, and grabbing supplies for my New Years Eve picnic. I got a hold of Andrew, who was coming down from Newcastle, Nathalie, who was coming up from Melbourne, and the English girls, and it seemed that everyone was content to meet at Mrs. Macquaries Chair, which is just as well, because that’s where I was going regardless.

So I woke up at 8AM the next morning, got ready and packed for the day, and was at the ferry by 9, though one didn’t come until 9:30. I knew the line would be growing and I really wanted to stake out a good spot – the gates opened at 10. I made my way straight to the line up and discovered it was HUGE. From the front gates I though I could see the end of the line way down the street, but it was just a slight curve and it kept going down Art Gallery Road, past the gallery, into Domain park, and wrapping around. I thought about walking all the way back and trying to sneak in, but no, it was my own fault for getting here at 9:45 instead of 7:45, so I bit the bullet and joined the line at the back. I made quick friends with some Americans in front of me and we had a pretty good time even waiting in line for the 3000 people ahead of us to have their bags searched. It took an hour and a half to get to the front, and they didn’t even search my backpack, I definitely could’ve brought in some champagne or spirits, but oh well. We spent a bit of time debating spots and I found one that I could fit that had a great view, but I couldn’t fit all my newfound American friends with me nor even any of the people that were supposed to be meeting me later, so I went for a different spot with them which still had a pretty decent view though no breeze. And it was HOT. This was probably the best decision I made that day, however, as it was good fun throughout the afternoon.

The park kept filling throughout the day and soon we had a friendly guy from Finland in front of us, Andrew showed with his Columbian friend, Nicholas, Nathalie showed with (eventually) her German friends, and some of Amber’s friends showed too. Although we were at the park 14 hours before midnight, the time flew. We played cards, chatted, drank, and joked around. Every hour from 1PM onward, something different was happening. The theme was “Having the time of our lives” and it was very appropriate for the day. Skywriters writing things like “Time Flies”, tiger moth biplanes doing stunts, cannon firings, and the list goes on. The sunset, a boat light show/parade, and then the first major event, the family fireworks at 9PM. Well. They were great. They put an hourglass on the bridge this year and it dropped a little ‘sand’ grain every five minutes until 9 and then thereafter. I was thinking they were going to have a tough time topping the family fireworks. Amber and I rejoined the gang from our vantage point and hung around until 10. Then, I decided I wanted to get a good spot now for the midnight fireworks, so I went with Nathalie and got a spot right on the water, or as close as we could get at any rate. Nobody else was interested apparently, but it was so worth it.

The countdown began and every five minutes another grain of sand and the circle around the clock lit 1/12 more. It was getting very exciting. 15 minutes left. 5 minutes. And then the pillars on the bridge started their countdown… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. Pandemonium. Fireworks everywhere. “Happy New Year!” being screamed by 22000 people also in the park with us. Fireworks off the bridge, the hour glass turned over, and kept turning and then spinning, the water reflecting the shining skies. Off boats to the right, and in the distance, far away but over the opera house, the main firework show (they do the same fireworks throughout the harbour, except for the bridge, which was a special treat for those in the centre). And then they started launching them off skyscrapers in the city centre. It was a panorama of explosions and beauty and it just kept escalating. Especially the fireworks off the boats, it just seemed like they could get any bigger or more frequent, but they did. I tried to capture a bit with video and photos, but without a tripod and an ultra-wide angle lens, I might as well have been trying to capture the entirety of the Great Wall of China from 30m back. And then came the finale, which literally dropped my jaw and camera. A ‘waterfall’ of white lava off the bridge, fireworks in every direction, colour, shape, and size. 3D fireworks. All at once and the most amazing pyrotechnic display I’ll probably ever see. The New Year had reached Sydney and I thought there wasn’t a better way to conclude a year down under or start 2008. This was the grand feeling we always try to get on New Years but are always disappointed by when it turns out to be like any other night on the town.

We left the park and Andrew and I crashed at Amber’s place, the York hotel right in the city. The next morning we had breakfast with her and her parents and they all went to Manly, which I was going to join them on, but by the time I’d ferried to North Sydney, changed, got my swimming stuff, showered, and got a ferry back, it was going to be 5:30 before I got there. I got on the ferry anyway, thinking I’d grab a bite in Manly anyway if I missed them, but then as I sat on the ferry it was delayed and more delayed and 30 minutes later I decided I’d had enough. So I went and saw another movie, The Golden Compass which was surprisingly good. I’m definitely looking forward to a sequel. I saw Bee Movie the next day, which was likewise good, clean, Seinfeldian fun - the glut of movies is in part because I had a bit of fever and achyness and wasn't up for much else. When life gives you lemons, go see a movie! But my holidays have been anything but a lemon. The final two days were, admittedly, marred by some severe technical issues with FrankBlack.Net, but my stay in Sydney comes to an end tomorrow morning, when I fly to Tasmania for a couple weeks of exploration, outdoors, and hopefully not too much internet. But the conclusion of this post marks the first time my blog has been up to date since the beginning of August, so at least all my work has come to something. I'll let you know what my Tasmanian adventures come to soon.

Christmas Photos
New Years PhotosRead More...

Blue (Sky) Mountains

The next morning I awoke with the others at 8:00. Dave was to pick us up at 9:00 or so and take us canyoning, which was largely the reason I’d spent 17 hours the day prior getting myself through train, bus, and car down to Katoomba from Brisbane. When I had last been in Katoomba, by the way, Brad and I checked out this really cool YHA with a life-sized chess board, art-deco stylings for the lounge area, pool, a theatre, and other fun stuff. This was where we were staying. But enough about the hostel. Dave came and grabbed us and we finally got out of Katoomba around 10:30. Two of the girls had to get back by 3:30 to catch a train up to Byron Bay, so this didn’t leave us a lot of time. Plus, getting to the canyon itself was something of an adventure. I followed Dave’s car in Betsy and we wove up dirt paths through the forest in what most certainly would’ve been specified a 4x4 track were there any markings at all, but we dogged along and finally got to a sign that announced we were in some national park.

Dave led us down into the canyon, where we walked, climbed, slid down natural waterslides, jumped from ledges, and basically did everything that makes canyoning so much fun in the first place. Sadly, it was over before we knew it and we hiked back up to the cars to return the girls to the train. Then we went out for dessert and hot chocolate as the canyon was a little chilly, returned to the hostel and showered and got some things done, and then went out for Thai. Dave loves Thai, it turns out. Afterwards, Katie, Dave, and I hung out in the lounge and I played a couple of games with Dave before we retired for the evening. Which, I should point out, was somewhere around 10:00. And man, was it chilly up in the Blue Mountains. Those back home will scoff at me, but it was only 7 degrees in the night and the wind sucked the heat right out of you.

The next morning, after getting our room straightened out, Dave took Katie, Kylie, and myself up to the Three Sisters. We’d seen them before, but today we had much more favourable weather and it was a beautiful view. We also walked onto the one sister and Dave showed us where he used to take groups climbing before they put a stop to it. I can understand not allowing commercial climbs but individuals? It seemed a bit much to me and Dave was likewise inclined, rather hilariously. Dave and Kylie were also Sydney bound that day, but they walked us partway along and then turned around, leaving Katie and I to walk the trails up to Ruined Castle. We walked all around the valley until we were on the opposite side of the Three Sisters and then up, some 7km. Ruined Castle is basically some rock remnants that you can scramble up, offering a full 360 degree panoramic view of the valley. I obviously took this opportunity to take such a panorama and several other shots on the rocks before Katie and I headed back down. In total, it was a 5 hour hike and well worth it. We went back, sat in a pub for a while and had burgers and beer, then went to the hostel where I attempted to outline the general strategy for chess on the big chessboard. Then, both of us tired, we returned to the dorm and went to sleep.

The weather was even better the next day, and we set out to find a hike that Dave had told Katie about. I’d also been asking around and heard good things about a hike of Wentworth Falls. We drove looking for a ‘C’ sign, found a fruit stand instead (mmm, fresh mangos, cantaloupe, and peaches), and then decided to do the Wentworth Falls hike. There are several tracks one can do, but I have to imagine that we chose the best of them. We hiked down to Wentworth Falls, which was absolutely beautiful (rivaling Earland Falls on the Routeburn) and hung around there for at least half an hour just watching the water mist and wisp and catch the sun. Then we set off on the National Pass track, which took us on a ridge midway up on the sheer cliffs that make up this valley. The cliffs themselves were spectacular and it was an amazing walk just to walk alongside them. Being halfway up meant that, essentially, every moment was a terrific lookout onto the valley below and the distant mountains.

We came to the end and found some people abseiling in another waterfall and that looked like a lot of fun, too. Then up a lot of steps where we found Conservation Hut, which was apparently the hut Katie had been on the lookout for in the morning. She had seen a place on the maps called Edinburgh Castle Rock and, I thought, had been hinting that she really wanted to see it, so we set out for that. It was a long hike to basically nothing, and we were both getting pretty tired by the time we encountered the rock, so we trekked back, taking the Shortcut Track instead of the Overcliff Track and went back to the car. I have no idea what we did for dinner that night, but I do know that I was in bed and ready to sleep before 9:00. It had been an exhausting few days since coming down from Brisbane on 3 hours of sleep, and I was paying for it. I would, it seems, pay for it with the equivalent of jet lag for the next few days.

Finally, we left Katoomba the following morning, or at least got in the car to do so. It wouldn’t start at all. It seemed to be a dead battery, though we’d left nothing on, so, since we were on a hill, Katie and I pulled a Little Miss Sunshine and pushed it down the hill and popped the clutch. Betsy was revived by our little ECG and we decided to drive to Syndey and hopefully charge the battery again, but as we were coming into Sydney, I gave the car a test and it still wouldn’t start. Another bit of CPR and we rolled on until we came to a sign for a Children’s Hospital. Katie postulated that anywhere that fixes kids must have a place where they can fix cars, so we hopped off the 4 near Wentworthville and hung a left at Olympic Batteries, where we found a small service station. Sydney Auto Repairs (for my reference, 02 98963599). Paul Raj, the manager of the shop, took a look at the car with me and changed the battery out, he was convinced that was all it was. He also pointed out a few things for me to keep an eye on and showed me some things I could try if the car died in the middle of nowhere. I mentioned the car had been hesitating a bit and he checked the fuel filter with me, which was disgusting. He did it all for pretty much nothing and I decided I’d come back and have him look over the car more thoroughly and give it an oil change before setting off south. It can be hard to find people who aren’t out to rip you off.

New battery and fuel filter installed, we made our way further into Sydney. We stopped on Bondi Beach and were laying in the sun when the lifeguard drove by announcing there'd been an earthquake in the Solomon Islands and there were tsunami warnings for the east coast. The beach was closed and all of us were there at our own risk. Very few people seemed bothered and he added a final, "If you see the water being sucked out, run." Needless to say, it wasn't a problem and we were on the beach for a few hours before heading to Manly, where we pulled into Dave’s and stopped for a shower and rest while waiting for him to arrive. He had said he might be able to take us climbing somewhere in Sydney, but he came in looking pretty beat and frazzled, so we didn’t bother to ask. We all went out for Thai again with Kay, a nice woman/semi-retired teacher, and then went back to Dave’s to get our stuff. Then we made our way to Diane’s, another friend of Katie’s who’d done Pacific Challenge sort of unofficially with Katie a few years back, having some trouble finding it on account of fatigue and more importantly, Dave’s directions. Quite tired (though it was only 10:30), we finally arrived at Diane’s to find she wasn’t home. We tried to call her but only got voicemail, and then decided to take a walk along the waterfront while we waited. Sydney harbour was on the horizon with the Harbour Bridge arcing over the Opera House and Sydney’s downtown reaching for the sky on the right and we strolled down to Luna Park, watched the boats for a while, and then walked back.

By now, it was almost midnight and we couldn’t even reach her voicemail. Of course the hostels would have shut down reception and we were kind of in a spot. Katie called Dave to ask if he knew where she’d gone or remembered where she’d put the key exactly, and as luck would have it, Diane came to the door, hearing Katie’s voice as she’d gotten up to use the washroom, and let us in. What a view she has. Her house sits right over the water and the living room faces in towards Sydney. We sat for a little bit with the lit up skyline of Sydney out the windows and then went to sleep. The next morning, Katie’s last in Australia, we walked to downtown, and what a great walk it is. You walk around the waterfront, past Luna Park and with Sydney’s opera house just across the bay. Then up, crossing the Harbour Bridge and into the heart of downtown. We walked around, along George St. and Pitt St. and, passing by a cocktail bar called Establishment, popped in to see how much a drink was. $13, and it looked it. We went further on to a place called the RSL club that the bartender had recommended for more reasonable fare. We had to fill out a day membership card, but drinks were $3 for a pint and we could sit on the fourth floor looking over George St, so we stayed there. It turns out, by the way, that RSL is a fancy acronym for veterans here, but it was actually a good time. We ventured back to Diane’s via train and had dinner with Dave, Kay, and Diane up the road, and then when Dave and Kay left, the three of us sat in the living room with some wine and chatted until midnight, which I really, really struggled to stay awake until. Tomorrow, after all, I’m on my own for the first time since leaving.

And that happened rather smoothly. Dave and I dropped off Katie at the airport the next morning and then went downtown. He had a doctor’s appointment so I got dropped off after an unsuccessful parking spot search, and there I was, on my own, on some street in Sydney. That’s how it happened, almost without me noticing. And now that I was alone, it was time to begin catching up on things. That day, I bought myself some new shirts and shorts and a pair of jeans. I got myself a long overdue haircut. And I got my pictures uploaded as far as I had captioned them while taking care of some internet stuff. Then I went to a movie, Hot Fuzz, starring and by Simon Peg, that was pretty hilarious. I didn’t know he had a new one coming out. I found my way back, eventually, up on the Harbour Bridge and crossed back home. The next day was equally busy. I did a whole bunch of laundry in the morning, then found my way to Paul the mechanic’s (no problem), and got my car looked at and serviced. New oil, new filters, new spark plugs, and the brakes seem to be good for some time. I also got it clean, finally, getting rid of all the dirt and sand and dog hair in the back seats particularly. I also had no problem finding my way back to Diane’s from there, though the traffic in both directions was pretty heavy. I picked up some hot cross buns for Easter and some supplies for Greek salad, did a last load of laundry, made dinner, and chatted with Diane for a while. Good Friday, and a hearty chunk of Saturday I caught up on my journal and photos some more, and also managed to watch Chinatown (great movie with Jack Nicholson), Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (also good, Kevin Spacey and John Cusack), Dark City (I watched this one with Diane), and 300 (a movie about Persia's failed attempt to rule Greece). Molly Maguires and Presidio (both Sean Connery flicks) as well whilst captioning... it takes a loooong time and I almost gave up more than once, but it's done and I feel good.

Wrapping up the weekend, I spent one afternoon exploring the southern harbour, basically from McMahon Point to Watson's Bay (go ahead and zoom on the little map on the left sidebar), then met Dave for some juice in Bronte. I went out for breakfast with Diane and Terry. And I discovered that Mike, from Christchurch, is coming over to Australia this week, most specifically Sydney. He's coming for the Sydney Cup (horse races) and then doing a Hunter Valley Tour. Which, given my plan was to leave Sydney on Tuesday for the south, means a bit of a tweak. I will leave tomorrow for Canberra and check it out for a few days and then come back into Sydney to meet Mike on Thursday. I'm not sure if I'll stick around for the Cup or even go see it (I saw coverage of the Melbourne Cup, it looks like horse racing is HUGE here so maybe I should), but if it works out I'd love to do the Hunter Valley tour with him and his family assuming they don't mind a stray backpacker. If not, I head south and can skip over Canberra on my way down since I'll have covered it already.

And now we're up to date and you may have missed some posts. My pace has been rather frenetic and you could hardly be blamed. How do you go back and view older ones, you ask? Well, there are a few ways, and they're all on the left sidebar. You can go and select the month you want to read from the archives section. If you didn't get too far behind, the Previous Posts section might be enough. Or, supposing you want to just start from the beginning and read your heart out, you can use the labels (AKA tags) to read posts related to Pacific Challenge, New Zealand, Australia, and so on. Those are also on the left and the labels for each post are at the bottom of the post itself as well. Hopefully that's not confusing, there are lots of ways to find the post you want! See you in another week or so.

Blue Mountains PhotosReturn to Sydney PhotosRead More...

Interviews, Barbeques, and Rosy Hues

It's been about as hectic a few weeks as I've had in a long time, so I'm sorry there's not been much to update on. Ironically, there's been very little worth writing, much less reading, in spite of this sudden deluge of activity, but I will continue anyway at the risk of boring you. First, most recently, and most excitingly at least for me, was the Canada Day release of our tenth FrankBlack.Net Podcast. This is a little radio show of sorts that I host with a friend from New Jersey, Brian, bi-weekly, and we talk about the latest news in the world of Frank Black, play tracks from albums and offer a little (we hope) insight, and thanks to his manager, Ken Goes, have a rare track to put on our podcast every time. Not to some of our favourite live recordings, covers, and tracks from Frank Black fans. We started with a surprising 1500 downloads in the first two weeks we played it and now coming ever closer to 5000 subscribers. So it was with some excitement that we released our tenth episode, and we went all out to make it special. It's hosted at a swanky penthouse party at the halfway point between Brian's home and mine, Thunder Bay, and the most exciting thing, at least for me, is the appearance and conversation with Frank Black at this party!

Yes, on July 19th, the day his new album, Fastman/Raiderman, that same day that the Edmonton Oilers lost Game 7 to the Hurricanes, Brian and I were chatting with him using VOIP. And this is largely thanks to his wife, before I go on, who helped us set up the interview with him and also was working on family friends Jack Black and John Flansburgh among others. Maybe in the future, but I digressed with the intent of thanking Violet, and will do so now. Thank-you! So, that done, we were chatting after a few initial technical difficulties, and chatting. We talked about everything from the new Pixies tracks that were recently trashed to his new album to his touring plans (with a band) to, well you name it. Spaghetti sauce. How songwriting is like making a sandwich. A very funny man and he entertained us for 2.5 hours before we finally let him go, and he didn't ask once despite a cold and, initially, the ruckus of kids getting ready for bed. If you want to listen, there are a few ways. You can listen/subscribe to the whole in iTunes, stream it from the web using Yahoo, or download the latest episode directly here. You don't need an iPod to listen to a podcast, just a computer with speakers or a CD burner.

In other news that's exciting for me and less so for you, my sister finally got back from Europe/Greece late last week. Her backpack weighs more than her I'm pretty sure, or at least is very close to being on par. Or at least, it weighed, she is hopefully unpacked by now. It's nice to have her back home though she probably wishes she was still there rather than taking a summer version of Math 110. We had to trade her for my uncle, unfortunately, he was here a month but I only saw him three or four times. We had a barbeque before he left though, and it was nice to have some family and friends out. We also got very lucky with the weather; it had been raining for weeks on end and cleared up just in time for us. We had the lamb and tzatziki roast and a bunch of other good stuff, which you can probably see in the pictures I took. Click on the image on the right to check out some more.

What else? Well, I've managed to get a few games of golf in this year and hope to do a little more of that this summer. Maybe this weekend I'll go with my dad. I went with John to his uncle's golf tournament a couple weekends ago, it was a 9-hole course in Watrous, and we had a good time. I wound up golfing with a relative of Brett's, what are the odds of that? Well, in case you thought that was a genuine question, the answer is, not very good. Not very good. But we all had a good time and a bit too much sun, hence to rosy hues. John also was good enough to invite me to his cousin's pool party on Canada Day, which was nice. They have a very nice backyard/pool, and we sat around, swam, and enjoyed the warm weather. His cousins seem like pretty cool people too.

Otherwise, nothing much to report. The family's doing well, the soccer team too, the weather's nice, and the skies blue. I've almost watched my entire Hitchcock collection, I am now a definite fan; if you ask me, dear reader, he was a brilliant man. But I don't intend to rhyme all day, so I will stop right now and go away. Well, stop anyway. I still haven't had time to look at making plans for Aus/NZ next year, and I know I'd better get my act together, so perhaps this week I will make an effort to do something towards that. I still want to look into that tour that Juaquin did of NZ. Oh, I've also been biking quite a bit trying and failing to get into shape. I should probably start biking to work, but it's a looooong trek from here to there, it's a good 45 minutes at speed and without too much wind, and quite frankly I have enough trouble getting up early enough to drive in. But I'm already rambling, so I will see you again, hopefully sooner than last time.Read More...

V for DaVinci Code

It has been a strangely dry year thus far for movies, to the point that there have been several times when I wanted to go see a movie and there was nothing I was interested in seeing in even the remotest way. May, however, has been an exception, with an interesting new movie opening every weekend. Last weekend, it was MI3 which, despite Tom Cruise, is a must see for any fan of action movies. Sadly, unlike the first MI movie, it does not transcend the genre nor bring anything new to it, but as action movies go, it is pretty decent, fun, and about what you'd expect. Certainly it is a far sight better than the second movie in the series, however, and in any case, if you're just looking for a little action, it's worth a view. But I'm not here to talk about how I was disliking Tom Cruise way before it was fashionable, nor even about MI3. Mostly because I don't have much else to say about it. I'm here to talk about a movie that is being unfairly panned by many critics and another that you have already missed seeing the first time around: The DaVinci Code and V for Vendetta.

The DaVinci Code

There's no rock on earth big enough that anyone could claim to not, at the least, have heard of The DaVinci Code. Dan Brown's blockbuster book is the world's best selling book after the bible, and I daresay that more people have probably read it from end to end; this both serves and hinders the movie. You see, when a movie has as much buzz around it at the time of release, critics - already leaning toward the negative - tend to skew their reviews in the negative, perhaps reviewing the movie based on expectations rather than reality. On the other hand, having many people who have read the book means, in all likelihood, that they will not only go to see it, but have an understanding of what is going on in the first place. The movie is a little fast paced in explanation, I feel, for someone who has not read it (though perhaps those who have will argue the opposite), and I got the feeling that someone approaching the movie without the background would not necessarily appreciate the subtleties that made the book so endearing. In this regard, I tend to agree with Ron Howard, who in the face of criticism from Cannes, said, "This sounds a little 'hucksterish', but people really respond to the movie better the second time than they do the first time."

I'm not implying that you shouldn't see the movie without having read the book - au contraire, mes amis - just that, as always, the book does a better job explaining than the movie. This is not startling Hollywood news, in fact it's about the oldest and most well-accepted fact in the industry. And so it does not imply the movie is not good or true to the book. It not only sticks quite close to the book (many critics, of course, argue too close), but manages to take a few poetic touches as well. That Saunier's yard is, for example, filled with roses was a very small and admittedly unimportant touch, but something I appreciated. And one of the few somethings I can share without spoiling anything.

In short, the movie itself is fairly well done; it has a certain art to it. The mystery is engrossing, but I worry that it lacks the impact of the book. Comparisons aside, however, I think that someone going and paying attention will quite appreciate the mystery and thrills involved. This is not a movie where you want to go and be thinking about all the stuff you have to get done next week. I'm not implying it's brainy, just that - and perhaps this is my only real complaint when you boil it down - the movie does not do a good enough job of really pulling you in and it may take a little effort on the part of the audience. Otherwise, the direction is artfully done (thank you, Ron Howard), the acting is excellent (particularly Sir Ian McKellan, but I have yet to see him not deserving of his honorific), and I have a soft spot for Audrey Tautou (plus a fair amount of respect for Tom Hanks), so there you have it. Incidentally, if you have not seen Amelie, I highly recommend it when you're in the mood for something different. Audrey Tautou at her finest and in quite a different role. So, in Roman numerals, perhaps there is no V for The DaVinci Code, but I'd not hesititate to give it a III.V. In any case, it is perhaps fitting that "V" is supposedly the symbol for the sacred female... which is how I'm going to finally justify the title of this blog.

V for Vendetta
First of all, nobody I have talked to has seen this movie. This disturbing fact is shocking to me for many reasons, here are a few:

1) The trailer = awesomeness. If you remember my post from some time ago, this passes all the trailer tests. That means you should see it. That's all. Go watch the trailer yourself here.

2) Natalie Portman. Enough said.

3) Wachowski Brothers. You may know them as the creators of The Matrix. Not good at making sequels, but I think they're due another chance on a new movie given how incredible the original Matrix was.

4) My personal recommendation. The movie may upset you, it may make you feel uneasy, but isn't that better than going to a movie and being bored after? I would go see it again, so you should see it once at least.

5) The Title. It takes guts to name your movie with a title that harkens back to the days of Dial M for Murder and Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. Though I guess we had Attack of the Clones recently, so maybe we're seeing a resurgence of poor titling.

6) It is a rose among the thistle. Really. OK, possibly excluding the indie circuit, about which I am woefully uninformed, but in the list of contemporaries, we have The Sentinel (I hate movies starting with 'the' as though that makes it sound important). It stars Micheal Douglas as a secret agent. It's rumoured he personally financed the movie in order to keep Catherine Zeta Jones with him. Silent Hill, yet another 'thriller' about a parent who must fight through the undead and the spirit worzzzzzzzzzz. I'm thrilled to not see it, thank you. And Thank You For Smoking, which might be okay except for Katie Holmes who basically I see/hear as Tom Cruise now. Really. Put Tom Cruise in her place on Dawson's Creek, that's what I see. Kind of makes things weird. Scary Movie 4 (need I say more), The Benchwarmers (another Adam Sandler/Rob Schneider movie long past the time where it might be funny), Take The Lead, where we discover that what the ghetto needs is ballroom dancing and what ballroom dancing needs is large-bottomed women and backwards caps.

Now I don't mean to say you should see this movie because the rest are not so great. Rather, that I am shocked that so few have seen this movie given the utter lack of competition. And the fact that it is in second run means that you definitely should catch it on the cheap. Oh, and I missed Failure to Launch, which, really... a woman so sadistic that she plays with mens' feelings, gets them to fall for her, or at least get attached enough to move out, and then dumps them? The movie should've taken place 32 years prior, starred Sarah Jessica Parker's parents, and been called Failure to Abort.

Anyway, I have a life to lead (believe it or not) and you have a few movies to see, so I shant keep you. As always, thanks for listening, let me know what you think of either movie or even if I'm wrong about some of my judgements on my "Must Miss List".

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100th Post Spectacular!

Well, okay, maybe I'm being a little overly boastful to call my hundredth host spectacular, but a cloned monkey with three arms made me do it. Knife to my ribs and everything. So, here we are. I can't believe you guys have allowed me to ramble on the internet for a hundred posts. Really, someone should notify the CRTC or, failing that, the good people at Shaw Cable. Perhaps there were no good people to be found at either place and so I am able to continue. In any case, thank you all whether you pop in once or check daily, weekly, or when I beg you. In honour of this, I'm hoping to offer a grab bag of random topics, one of which is sure to not offend you. Not the least likely is the resumption of my podcast.

The Podcast Returns
Those of you who wrote me to continue my podcast, rejoice! As for the planet Earth, I suppose you can just wonder what the heck I'm doing putting together podcasts after the fantastic failure that was Episode 1. Well, I'll tell you. Over on FrankBlack.Net, my podcasting associate for the FrankBlack.Net Podcast and co-maintainer of the site came up with an idea. An idea to swap discs with other members of the forum. And then I came up with an idea. An idea to, instead, or rather also, record a podcast where we introduce people to the music and so forth. So, 'my' podcast is no longer mine at all except that I maintain the feed and came up with an idea. Now every week, at least for the next while, someone new will be publishing a podcast on Fridays, with music they like. Already, Kathryn has done a podcast focusing on the talents of Brian Eno and David Byrne. This week, I have a more eclectic mix of stuff. Next week, someone else will be posting theirs. Want it? All you have to do is add the following to your podcasting software (if you're not already subscribed to my podcast): http://dean.katsiris.com/podcast/feed.xml. If you have iTunes, it's as easy as selecting the "Advanced" menu, selecting "Subscribe to podcast" and pasting that link. I'm looking forward to some of the future hosts' shows. I've found out about some cool music from another mix like this I did a year or so ago.

Soccer and Lollies

So, the winter, the constant sitting at the desk, the getting out of shape, it's all done. Done, I tell you! Except for the desk, but now I will hopefully stop after work and get outside. Spring is here and it's glorious. There is magic (aka pollen) in the air, and I'm going to be so outdoors this summer that you won't have a clue how I still keep this thing up to date. I'm hoping to reinstate my team, Dynamite Dean and the Formidable Pylons, for a little summer recreation, and perhaps get some new players. Let me know if you're interested. I'm also thinking of doing an Ultimate Frisbee team this year. And some golf and tennis lessons. And biking. Yup, I love Saskatchewan summers more than I love taffy. Well, that's not true, which is part of the problem, I suppose. I need to work the taffy off. And other 'lollies' which is what the Australians like to call candies of any sort. Except, perhaps, for suckers and lollipops. Speaking of which, still planning on heading away this winter for a year there, but I haven't even begun to start looking at planning or tickets or tours. Perhaps I'll book it whilst biking on the Meewasin trail.

Simpsons Movie

Speaking of summer, and next year, coincidentally, there is a Simpsons movie coming out. Now, I know that the show is one of my favourite of all time, and also that many have lost interest because the writing really went downhill after the twelfth season in particular, but it has come around again if the recent episode with Ricky Gervais is any indication. Of course, he also wrote it, but to be fair, the last few I've seen have been pretty funny. And so, I have some hope that this movie could be pretty darned good. I also hope to win the lottery, but I think the odds are a little better on the Simpsons movie. You can see the trailer by clicking on the image over there. Meanwhile, they've squashed rumours of renewing Futurama, another 'F' show (Family Guy, Futurama, and there are others) that Fox cancelled for no good reason. I don't know what's going on over there. They have brilliant people getting these guys signed up and then idiots deciding who gets to stay. "We're sorry, Futurama has been cancelled. Please enjoy the next five shows which are all from the World's Blankiest Blank" genre. Still, there are also supposed to be some straight-to-DVD movies for Futurama coming, and that's cool. I hated the show based on a few viewings but finally knuckled under (thanks Darren) and now love it. It takes some growing.

Spaced Extras

British media is so ridiculously superior to anything we've got over here that it's scary, possibly with the exception of the BBC, which, although it has some great programming, doesn't have anything that holds a candle to the CBC's efforts at promoting Canadian music. Well done! Still, the BBC did bring us The Office, a brilliant piece of work from Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, both of whom are doing the second season of a newer show called Extras. Which, if you haven't seen, is (if you will allow) bloody brilliant. Hilarious. Ricky is a movie extra, which is a great role as he seems born to play the ambitious nobody who likes to think he's already somebody, and, well, hilarity ensues. Patrick Stewart, a man I never once considered funny, was on the last show of season 1 and made me split a seam. Which may be related to the whole taffy-love. Who knows? Another show I've heard NOTHING about over here is Spaced, which is probably the closest thing to Family Guy that any show with real people could get. It's not crude, but it does rely on quick flashes and wacky over dramatization/parody for its humour. Check this show out if you can.

Goodbye, Cruel Blog!
And now we come to the least objectionable part. I will be back, of course, with a new post in a new week, but it's about time I got outside and more importantly, to the restaurant for the supper rush that I don't anticipate will materialize (unless I stay home). So, happy Easter to all and I'll see you on the other side of the bunny.Read More...

Never See A Bad Movie Again

It used to be that all you could judge a movie by was its title, trailer and how many thumbs Siskel & Ebert were holding up. And that worked pretty well. If the directors can't put together a good thirty second preview for the movie then what hope do they have on a full length production? But these days, they're getting tricky with those trailers, handing them to outsiders and showing all the good stuff up front. And of course we lost Siskel, though Ebert and I still agree more often than not, but it's close. Of course, these are still good ways to decide whether you want to see a movie, and certain arts to see through these latest tricks. Luckily, dear reader, movie prejudging is a skill I have worked into an art, and with the lineup of remakes and unoriginal stuff facing us in 2006, you're going to need all the help you can get...

The Trailer

Whatever the critics may say, the fact is that nobody has quite the same tastes as you do. And the only way to prejudge for yourself is to see the trailer, the most important part of the judging process. Luckily, thanks to high speed internet, you don't have to go see one bad movie to see the trailer for another potentially bad one. Sites like Apple and ComingSoon.Net have lots of trailers. But the question remains, how do you know if a movie is going to be good - or more importantly, bad - from the trailer? Obviously there's no definitive guide since taste is subjective, but let me offer my top five show stoppers - I can't tell you what you'll like, but I know what bad is.

1) Floored or Bored? - Most people won't bother to see a movie that they find the trailer boring for, that's just common sense. But I say, don't go see a movie unless the trailer really engages you. If a two minute clip doesn't leave you wanting more, then you probably don't. Also, if you can, try to watch the trailer the same day you go to the movie (unless you've already decided in advance you want to see it, in which case, you probably do) - that way your mood will dictate what you like and you will have a better chance of seeing something you want to.

2) Bare Skin, Bare Bones - If you're going to see a movie because the trailer looks hot - ESPECIALLY if that hotness is the focus - be assured that under no conditions will the movie itself be anything of the sort. Any steamy scene that cuts too soon in the trailer probably does so because the movie itself cuts there as well, and then the great selling point for the movie is gone leaving it an empty husk and you wondering why you went to see it in the first place. This also applies to movies where the whole trailer is the lead character wandering around scantily clad. This can save you from debacles like Tomcats or Catwoman.

3) Bad Titlature - Not as related to point two as it sounds. Face it, if the creative mind that produced a plot can't even string together a couple words into a compelling title, they probably can't string together a whole bunch into a compelling story. Be wary of movies titled "The Something" where something is a boring everyday object - You could be saved from such travesties as Dark Water or The Avengers. Well, OK, so "Avengers" is not a boring everyday word, but I just want to have it known just how awful that movie really is. I should've known. What non-Tarantino movie with Uma Thurman has been any good? She's in three of my top 10 worst movies of all time.

4) No Flow? Go - If the trailer is a bunch of disjointed scenes and you're never quite sure what the movie will be about, it's probably because the movie isn't about anything and the director can't even venture a guess. This is a tough one to find examples for, but check out Nine Lives for an example of a movie I'd NEVER go see.

5) The Sign Of The Devil - If you see the sign - MTV Films - at ANY point in the movie, run! You could be saved from such crimes against mankind as Aeon Flux or Napoleon Dynamite.

Reviews
Life sure would be easier if we could believe everything we heard, but liars and people with bad taste abound in this world - after all, who do you think is making these awful movies we're trying to avoid? Even Ebert and I disagree sometimes (though he usually calls and apologizes afterwards). So why take one source when you can sample a bunch? And fast. If you're using Google to search for movie times (like I told you about, then you've probably already seen that it also gives you the average rating with a link and the number of reviews accumulated. That's one way to get a bunch of opinions fast. You can also use a site I really like called Rotten Tomatoes, which gives a bunch of nice one-liners on the movie in question. Here's how it saved me from seeing Aeon Flux. After all, if two heads are better than one, surely a bunch of rotten tomatoes are better than... one... too?

Motive Operandi
The final and sometimes first nail in the for any movie is its raison d'etre, the reason it's being made. There are plenty of movies out there that are quite entertaining and serve no purpose other than that (the James Bond series comes to mind) and there are some with an agenda or opinion to express (usually the movies you'll either love or hate and also the movies the critics will love at any expense, especially if its a controversial opinion). And there are some, plain and simple, out there to make money. Many. More and more every year. Hollywood rivals the music industry for its sheer buck-lust. If a movie strikes you as 'cashing in' or looks somehow like it was made solely to get you to spend half your life savings on popcorn at the local cinema, it's a safe bet that the people involved in making it from actors all the way up aren't going to be staking any of their soul in it. The results are rarely pretty. Look at what they did to Batman, taking away Tim Burton years ago to make it sell better and be more 'kid friendly'. Batman & R