the pen is envy
Few people realise the significance of the humble Sharpie in the world of the techy; if you know what I am talking about, a fibre tip permanent marker, most commonly available in black or blue. They are invaluable for many purposes, from marking up lighting and sound desks to labelling cables. The hip and fashion conscious techy will inevitably have a Sharpie taped or clipped to the lanyard hanging round his or her neck.
In America (home of the Sharpie), there is a bewildering array of pens available (see Ill.), colours and shapes beyond imagining. I am now very popular...
Seagulls revenge
I suppose there is a sort of karma about it, but on my last day in Vancouver I was mugged by a herring gull. I had got into the habit of buying a coffee and some sort of bread thing in the food market for my breakfast, and then having a wander around as I ate. On this occasion I had bought a slab of grape and pine-nut bread and walked out onto the boardwalk to eat it on the way to the ferry. I had managed one bite before a seagull flew on over my shoulder and snatched the whole bag from my hand. The whole theft was so adroit and the bread was consumed in seconds, I was left full of admiration for its skill and daring.
I guess it might be thought of as payback for an earlier incident when I was rehearsing a show down in Ramsgate, and stood on the harbour walls eating fish and chips. The gulls were begging shamelessly, but if you tossed them a chip it would be too hot, and the catcher would spit it out, only for it to be caught by another. This would continue until the chip cooled down enough for someone down the line to eat it, hours of innocent fun.
Later that day I walked along the coast and sat watching the seaplanes take off and land across False Creek bay, my attention was caught by a gull flying very low and erratically across the water. I realised after a moment that it was being chased by a white tailed sea eagle, and its aerobatics were an attempt to escape from its much larger aggressor. Eventually the sea gull either regurgitated or dropped its food, and the eagle lost interest. Curiously, the gull then turned on the eagle, and with a number of others, chased it away inland.
my china town...
I took a trip to Chinatown today, not so very different from Soho really, except that the locals are much friendlier and don't seem to be bothered if you don't speak the language. Even though it was a freezing cold day, the shopping experience spreads right out onto the pavement, offering a variety of foods from dried mushrooms to wind dried squid, pickled oysters to lizards on a stick.
I stopped for a lunch of cold meats on rice, and could have been in Gerrard Street, the stream of chinese diners, and the thump of cleaver on duck is seemingly universal. When you step outside the door, however, the distant snow capped peaks of the Rocky Mountains remind you that you are in fact a long way from home.
I also visited the Dr Sun Yat Sen garden, a valiant attempt to recreate a 15th century Chinese scholars' garden in the middle of a modern city. Although it was mostly frozen, it is very beautiful and tranquil, I could quite imagine how restful it would be when the spring comes.
diverse receipts
I understand the local obsession with Salmon in one culinary form or other, after all the Canadian pacific coast economy was founded on it and still depends on it. So the smoked salmon pizza, or even smoked salmon jerky are perfectly understandable. It seems to be very hard to get a 'normal' pizza, with just mushrooms, or a bit of peperoni for example.
The restaurant in my hotel offers a spicy lamb merguez sausage and asparagus pizza, which, at the time seemed to be the closest to what I wanted. Since then I have encountered a chipotle ragu and smoked mozzarella pizza amongst others more dubious and wrong.
Tonight, however, after the opening show (a six hour 'durational theatre' piece) we went downtown to the only place open after midnight and among the offerings on their menu was (I quote verbatim); chipotle-vanilla alligator: pan-fried shaved alligator sirloin, served with cajun tartar.
I found myself completely bemused; why did they need to shave the alligator? how do you shave an alligator? where did the vanilla feature? does anybody order it? what does a cajun tartar look like (I envision Yul Brynner with an accordion)? I'm afraid we may never know.
beyond the call of duty, an occasional series
As the Canadians seem to have almost no grafitti*, or at any rate Granville Island is certainly in that state, I have been unable to record any sprayed images.
On the other hand, when I was rigging my show this afternoon, I got chatting to one of the house techs. Rather to my bewilderment he asked me what I did for a living, when I replied that I was by and large a theatre electrician of some sort, he became quite animated;
'I'm an electrician too,' he said.
'Glad to hear it, as you are plugging up for me,' I replied.
'What do you think of this?' he asked, putting his leg on the seat beside me and rolling up his trousers.
I was a little confused, our boy had a US style domestic power socket tattooed on his calf, all I could think of to say was; 'You'll have trouble getting adaptors for that if you come to Europe.'
A socket:
I still can't work out why though, any suggestions will be gratefully received.
It's still snowing here now, great soggy lumps of the stuff, not especially cold, just very wet.
*since I made that comment I've been told that there are regular anti-grafitti inspections all over the city, and anything discovered is removed without ceremony.
Greetings from the land of the moose...
Well I'm here, the flight was late and we arrived at 4.00 in the morning our time to be given a breathless and enthusiastic tour of the city by the festival organisers. Everyone here is super friendly and they don't feel the need to restrain themselves from commenting about anything.
It's a bit like having a festival organised by labrador puppies, you can't quite bring yourself to chastise or argue because they are so innocent and well-intentioned.
We are staying on Granville Island, a former derelict industrial site underneath one of the main bridges across False Creek to downtown Vancouver (apologies for the geography lesson, I shan't be asking questions later). The city fathers (and probably mothers) decided at some point to make this into a cultural quarter, thus it is thronged with jewellers, potters, glassmakers etc, etc. All very nice, and all slightly twee. There is an excellent foodmarket, with a range of international food that I haven't seen anywhere else, and as we are on an island, there are many boatyards and chandlers. There are also two breweries, one in my hotel, and one about 200 yards away, which brings me to my only gripe; my hotel bar shuts at 10.00 pm, and the other brewery tap at 8.00 pm. This is not civilised.
Oh well, I must go and do some work, it has been snowing overnight, and there's a light powdering of snow on the banks outside my window, fortunately my theatre is about 50 yards from the front door.
Apologies for absence
A belated Happy New Year to you all, and my apologies for not having produced any mildly entertaining piffle for a few days. Quite apart from the customary ennui and tiredness that the end of the year generally produces, we foolishly gave house room to the evil twisby twins* who added their generally malign influence to proceedings.
Unfortunately they took over our minor efforts to bring in the New Year with fireworks, and whilst it wasn't a complete disaster they still introduced an undercurrent of despair and failure that managed to get to the most sensitive (and expensive) of our rockets.
Tomorrow I am going to Canada for a week, I am told, and hope that it will be like a civilised version of Amurka. Reports from Vancouver to follow, internet willing.
*for the gorey details please refer to
http://www.rereviewed.com/thedeepnorth/ or the collected works of Edward Gorey.
