Rejoining life at home has been a slow process the past couple of days.
I have become accustomed to a life where the day's to do list might be to mail a letter or take a pleasant walk. It is very noticeable to me how much slower I move now than I did when I left. I can still imagine the week right before I took off for Thailand, moving a mile a minute to get all my affairs in order. It's different now.
Many of my friends who have seen me recently have remarked how much more relaxed I seem. I think that has been a big benefit of the past few months. Now, though, I wonder how to keep it going. Life at home will require more from me in terms of showing up to work promptly, keeping chores done, and keeping scheduled commitments to folks. My calendar has become quite dusty lately (if that's possible for a Google calendar).
The first few days, I attacked a foot high pile of unopened mail. Not too many threatening letters thank goodness. I also bought and unpacked a few things you need when you have a home.. shower soap, a clock for my nightstand.... my electric rotary toothbrush! woo woo!
Funny thing though. Mostly, I have just left everything packed in boxes. The clothes don't really feel like mine anymore for some reason. Pants don't fit so well. I've lost some weight. Every day I find myself putting on the same clothes I have had in my backpack for all these months. They feel like mine.. and all I really need. For some reason though, it felt urgent for me to get the backpack itself stored and out of my sight. Although it's been a good companion, I really began to resent packing and unpacking it all the time. Time to put it away.
I have some theories on why I lost weight. Probably a few reasons. First, no kitchen of my own. Since I didn't have places to put much food, I could only really eat when it was time to go find a meal. So I found myself hungry a fair amount, but got used to it. Second, budget. I have been in such a mode of saving that rarely, if ever, did I have a large sit down meal with multiple courses, baskets of bread, desserts, etc. Third, no gym. Muscle is heavy, and I have lost a fair amount of that. It's funny how what used to seem like a bit of a chore (going to workout) now seems like a privilege, one I have very much looked forward to returning to. I miss it. Fourth, walking. It seems like at least half the time on my trip, my ankles were sore due to the amount of walking I was doing. Whether it's traveling to and from cities, running errands, or just being a tourist and seeing sights, I was always walking. Rarely was there a day when I sat on my bum all day long. Well maybe a few times.
Now, unfortunately, it's time to think about working again. I still consider myself on vacation from work until after I return from Burning Man. But that will be the biggest adjustment for sure.
My plan is to not get a full time job, but gigs instead - three to six month projects. My goal, and it is a lofty one, is to work six months and have two off in between projects. Whether for traveling or just to have time off at home, it seems possible if I budget for it. It may not work out that way, but that is the goal I am setting for myself. I have decided that time for working on personal projects, visiting friends, traveling, or just plain relaxing is an important part of having a full life, and not enough people demand that time.
Wish me luck. I hope I can stay on track.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Return
The sad day finally arrived. I had run out of time and money to continue my fantasy life of new friends, new experiences, and no work. I had promised to be home by Saturday night to meet some German friends who are staying at my flat, so that became my final deadline. My return flight was rescheduled to stretch out the inevitable. The new flight would leave London at 8:30 Saturday morning, which would get me home about four hours ahead of my guests.
Rob gathered some friends for a big last Friday night out on the town in Soho, and Toria was nice enough to come down to London to see me off as well. To really maximize the last night, the plan was to play through. Stay up all night, move the party back to Rob's loft, and see me off to the airport. It's a stretch for a geezer like me, but the idea is to be tired enough to sleep on the flight back and begin the process of getting back onto California time.
The night was a blast. After going out dancing at a club party billed as "the best funk night in the world" (later certified by Toria), we all returned to Rob's and played music reminicent of our times together and drinking gallons of Red Bull to stay awake. We danced all the way up until a painfully sad round of hugs and kisses and me taking my last backpack trudge toward the nearest airport, hoping for a seamless journey.
Ha.
With a total of twenty pounds in my pocket and filled with sadness to leave, I got in a cab with a driver, who after arriving to the subway station, let me know he had no change at all. Jerk. I made him find me some change and return me to the tube station PDQ.
Groggy and jittery from caffeine, I wandered into a mostly empty Kings Cross tube station at 5:30 to catch the Picadilly line to Heathrow airport.
Murphy's Law of subways dictated that the Picadilly line was, of course, shut down. I grabbed the nearest employee I could find (a janitor perhaps?) to tell me what I should do and he gave me another route to take to find another rail train to get there.
I started to really worry that I would miss my flight. Mostly I was concerned for my guests arriving in San Francisco that evening. I imagined them getting to my door near midnight with no one there to greet them.
While doing my best to follow the instructions, I ran into a guy with the same problem, only he had directions given to him that took him in the opposite direction. Great. He managed to convince me that his directions were right and mine were wrong, and I followed him. We made it to the Heathrow Express train and I made it to the airport within about twenty minutes of my intended arrival time. Not too bad.
Once I was on the plane, I was mostly assured of getting home eventually. How late could I be?
Murphy's Law of weather dictated that Houston, my only stop along the way, was shrouded in thunderstorms. This gummed up things there quite a bit. My flight out to San Francisco was a solid two and a half hours late, getting me home only an hour or so before my guests arrived. How is that for cutting things close?
Groggy, and unshowered, we managed to just beat last call at Molotov Cocktails down the street and get one good beer down the hatch before crashing out big time.
Now I'm home to a completely empty room and no particularly solid plan for my next few days. They call this part of the travel experience "re-entry".
Deep breath.
Rob gathered some friends for a big last Friday night out on the town in Soho, and Toria was nice enough to come down to London to see me off as well. To really maximize the last night, the plan was to play through. Stay up all night, move the party back to Rob's loft, and see me off to the airport. It's a stretch for a geezer like me, but the idea is to be tired enough to sleep on the flight back and begin the process of getting back onto California time.
The night was a blast. After going out dancing at a club party billed as "the best funk night in the world" (later certified by Toria), we all returned to Rob's and played music reminicent of our times together and drinking gallons of Red Bull to stay awake. We danced all the way up until a painfully sad round of hugs and kisses and me taking my last backpack trudge toward the nearest airport, hoping for a seamless journey.
Ha.
With a total of twenty pounds in my pocket and filled with sadness to leave, I got in a cab with a driver, who after arriving to the subway station, let me know he had no change at all. Jerk. I made him find me some change and return me to the tube station PDQ.
Groggy and jittery from caffeine, I wandered into a mostly empty Kings Cross tube station at 5:30 to catch the Picadilly line to Heathrow airport.
Murphy's Law of subways dictated that the Picadilly line was, of course, shut down. I grabbed the nearest employee I could find (a janitor perhaps?) to tell me what I should do and he gave me another route to take to find another rail train to get there.
I started to really worry that I would miss my flight. Mostly I was concerned for my guests arriving in San Francisco that evening. I imagined them getting to my door near midnight with no one there to greet them.
While doing my best to follow the instructions, I ran into a guy with the same problem, only he had directions given to him that took him in the opposite direction. Great. He managed to convince me that his directions were right and mine were wrong, and I followed him. We made it to the Heathrow Express train and I made it to the airport within about twenty minutes of my intended arrival time. Not too bad.
Once I was on the plane, I was mostly assured of getting home eventually. How late could I be?
Murphy's Law of weather dictated that Houston, my only stop along the way, was shrouded in thunderstorms. This gummed up things there quite a bit. My flight out to San Francisco was a solid two and a half hours late, getting me home only an hour or so before my guests arrived. How is that for cutting things close?
Groggy, and unshowered, we managed to just beat last call at Molotov Cocktails down the street and get one good beer down the hatch before crashing out big time.
Now I'm home to a completely empty room and no particularly solid plan for my next few days. They call this part of the travel experience "re-entry".
Deep breath.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Country
Pondering what to do my last week of my trip, I had a few considerations. I knew I wanted to return to visit my friends in Brighton. I felt I had seen most of what I wanted of London except for the never ending stream of great club music that plays there.. however that is mostly Thursday through Saturday. Rob has been so great in opening up his home to me, and nothing but welcoming, but I wanted to make sure he had his place to himself sometimes and that I wasn't always there, so some time away from London was certainly in order.
Fortunately, I got an invitation from some new friends I made at the Big Chill Festival to come up to Northern England for a couple days. (Vic)toria Jocasta Varley and Saffron Mina Katrina Glew (I love their names) hail from Halifax, a small ruralish town in the north of England near Leeds. I met them at one of those late night parties after all of the main music stages had closed down and all of us dance addicts all buzzed toward the nearest beat within ear shot. Those tend to be the best parties with the funnest people. This party was the best of all, tucked in a cider tent, DJ decks in the corner, and a gaggle of avid dancers, throwing down with five mile smiles on their faces.
Toria told me there was a burlesque show up in Huddersfield that would be fun. I knew if they said it would be fun, it would be. And what a great opportunity to get out of the more touristy areas and see some down home English living. So I took a train up there to meet them for the show. Folks tend to dress up for these things, and I am a mere shaggy backpacker, so I borrowed a couple of things from Rob, since we're about the same size, and did my best.
Huddersfield turned out to be a cute town with a surprising array of pubs and night life for such a small place. It is a college town though, and that always helps keep a town active. The ladies, in a concerted effort to throw their full support into the new burlesque club, dressed up to the nines with sequins, feathers... the works.
The show was great. Along with the traditional elements of burlesque (a cheeky MC, feather dances, strip teases, and great jazz/pop singers), they also threw in some creative, more modern takes on the art form, playing rock music and more up to date skits, like a crime scene investigator strip tease, for example. World class entertainment in a small town. Gotta love it.
I was also pleased by the quality of the music playing in the clubs and bars around town afterwords. The experience will, along with others in my travels, help me not to be so arrogant about what cities have really good entertainment.
The next day, the three of us headed to Halifax. We stopped off to meet Toria's family and wiener dog, Eric and then headed up to stay with Saffron's family, her cute little two year old, Molly, and Molly's chilled out, VW bus enthusiast dad, Jules. They live in a cute house at the top of a hill surrounded on every side by rolling greenery and nothing but stone masonry buildings. Again, nothing but great hospitality from them. We stayed up late, drinking wine and playing old school hip hop vinyl albums most of the night. How can you beat that.
The next morning I returned to London just in time to repack and head down to Brighton. Pete and Adeline were there to welcome me, of course, and I immediately remembered why I wanted to return. The feel of the place re-enveloped me immediately. Brighton is a big tourist destination which does affect the feel, but it nevertheless seems like a pleasant place to live as well.
This time, however, I did manage to find my friend Roussos, the hippyish Greek guy I spent time with in a couple of Thailand cities. I knew he was living in Brighton and had a little stand selling clothes and trinkets, but never found him during my last visit. This time, thanks to the magic of Facebook, I managed to contact him and he gave me more exact coordinates.
Roussos leads a pretty charmed life. He is always positive, always has a big smile on his face, and is one of the friendliest people ever. I think this has helped him to manage exactly the life he wants. He is a life long traveler. But while most other travel enthusiasts return home to get a real job to fund the next trip, Roussos designed his own job. This year he went to Thailand and Morocco to develop some relationships with suppliers of his products. Then he managed to fall into the opportunity to setup a table and racks outside of a store on a quiet, sunny, tourist shopping street. The shop owner liked Roussos so much, he discounted the rent he normally charges for the spot just so he could get on his feet. He told me one day, he got tired of looking at the restaurant across from his table and wished he could have the palms and coconut trees of Thailand to look at. Soon after, the restaurant changed hands, became a Thai restaurant, and they painted pictures of palm trees and sunny skies in front of his face. Ahhh.
Roussos says his main problem now is keeping items in stock. Business is good.
Way to go, man.
Fortunately, I got an invitation from some new friends I made at the Big Chill Festival to come up to Northern England for a couple days. (Vic)toria Jocasta Varley and Saffron Mina Katrina Glew (I love their names) hail from Halifax, a small ruralish town in the north of England near Leeds. I met them at one of those late night parties after all of the main music stages had closed down and all of us dance addicts all buzzed toward the nearest beat within ear shot. Those tend to be the best parties with the funnest people. This party was the best of all, tucked in a cider tent, DJ decks in the corner, and a gaggle of avid dancers, throwing down with five mile smiles on their faces.
Toria told me there was a burlesque show up in Huddersfield that would be fun. I knew if they said it would be fun, it would be. And what a great opportunity to get out of the more touristy areas and see some down home English living. So I took a train up there to meet them for the show. Folks tend to dress up for these things, and I am a mere shaggy backpacker, so I borrowed a couple of things from Rob, since we're about the same size, and did my best.
Huddersfield turned out to be a cute town with a surprising array of pubs and night life for such a small place. It is a college town though, and that always helps keep a town active. The ladies, in a concerted effort to throw their full support into the new burlesque club, dressed up to the nines with sequins, feathers... the works.
The show was great. Along with the traditional elements of burlesque (a cheeky MC, feather dances, strip teases, and great jazz/pop singers), they also threw in some creative, more modern takes on the art form, playing rock music and more up to date skits, like a crime scene investigator strip tease, for example. World class entertainment in a small town. Gotta love it.
I was also pleased by the quality of the music playing in the clubs and bars around town afterwords. The experience will, along with others in my travels, help me not to be so arrogant about what cities have really good entertainment.
The next day, the three of us headed to Halifax. We stopped off to meet Toria's family and wiener dog, Eric and then headed up to stay with Saffron's family, her cute little two year old, Molly, and Molly's chilled out, VW bus enthusiast dad, Jules. They live in a cute house at the top of a hill surrounded on every side by rolling greenery and nothing but stone masonry buildings. Again, nothing but great hospitality from them. We stayed up late, drinking wine and playing old school hip hop vinyl albums most of the night. How can you beat that.
The next morning I returned to London just in time to repack and head down to Brighton. Pete and Adeline were there to welcome me, of course, and I immediately remembered why I wanted to return. The feel of the place re-enveloped me immediately. Brighton is a big tourist destination which does affect the feel, but it nevertheless seems like a pleasant place to live as well.
This time, however, I did manage to find my friend Roussos, the hippyish Greek guy I spent time with in a couple of Thailand cities. I knew he was living in Brighton and had a little stand selling clothes and trinkets, but never found him during my last visit. This time, thanks to the magic of Facebook, I managed to contact him and he gave me more exact coordinates.
Roussos leads a pretty charmed life. He is always positive, always has a big smile on his face, and is one of the friendliest people ever. I think this has helped him to manage exactly the life he wants. He is a life long traveler. But while most other travel enthusiasts return home to get a real job to fund the next trip, Roussos designed his own job. This year he went to Thailand and Morocco to develop some relationships with suppliers of his products. Then he managed to fall into the opportunity to setup a table and racks outside of a store on a quiet, sunny, tourist shopping street. The shop owner liked Roussos so much, he discounted the rent he normally charges for the spot just so he could get on his feet. He told me one day, he got tired of looking at the restaurant across from his table and wished he could have the palms and coconut trees of Thailand to look at. Soon after, the restaurant changed hands, became a Thai restaurant, and they painted pictures of palm trees and sunny skies in front of his face. Ahhh.
Roussos says his main problem now is keeping items in stock. Business is good.
Way to go, man.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Chill
I came back to London to spend a day preparing to head to The Big Chill festival held on the grounds of Eastnor Castle near Ledbury, England. Rob and friends rented a van and we were off early in the morning for the several hour drive up north.
The grounds at the festival are set among rolling green hills with plenty of lakes, trees, and nice views to put one in the mood to relax, listen to great music, eat great food, and meet some great folks. The crowd at the festival is, on average, older than many other popular festivals around Europe. There are a healthy number of families and older folks which helps to bring down the rowdy factor somewhat. There is something for everyone there including carnival rides, crafts, and shows for the kids, organic, veggie, and vegan food plus yoga for the heath conscious, and an evening-only nature art walk for those able to pull themselves away from all the music and dancing. I wasn't so able.
I'm one of those people who, as long as there is some good, fun dancing somewhere, I have to find it and jump right in. The grounds were just littered with fun parties, including scheduled stage shows and impromptu, guerrilla style parties in bar tents and food stalls. Just bring your decks, DJs, and the party will find you. I was unable to escape the fun for a couple of evenings and didn't make it back to camp until well after sunrise.
Here were some of my favorite artists:
A. Skills - This guy is a twenty four year old master of the turntables and remixer of funk, hip hop, and breaks. Somehow I had never heard of him until the day before the festival. I had decided to listen to as many of the festival artists as I could so that I could decide which shows to try and make. I never got past "A" in the alphabetical list of artists. Once I found A. Skills, I just couldn't stop downloading and listening to the tracks. Who needs B through Z I guess.
The Bays & The Heritage Orchestra - I have been impressed with the innovation that has been happening in music during the past few years. Bedroom music production with inexpensive equipment, the introduction of live video performance to music shows (see Coldcut), live digital sampling on stage to create one's own accompaniment (see Jamie Lidell, Loop!Station). But this performance was one of the most ambitious projects I have ever personally witnessed. The Bays are already known for being an improvisational electronic music act. They don't rehearse or make albums. It is one thing to have a jam session with a basic rhythm section and some electronics, but now they have decided to do it with a full string and wind orchestra. What?! To accomplish this, they assembled an impressive set of technology and talent. Along with The Bays live performance, an orchestral composer was on stage with music software that allowed him to send "sheet" music in real time to the conductor and musicians on stage, each of whom was outfitted with his or her own flat screen music stand which would display the arrangement as it was being composed. The large stage video screens alternated between showing the music score being assembled, the artists themselves, and ambient images that fit with the largely Drum & Bass songs. It was a mind blower, I have to say.
Roisin Murphy - I had seen her before at the Melt festival in Germany. I dragged my friends straight up to the front of the stage to see her and created some new fans in the process.
Thievery Corporation - Sometimes at a festival, you lose your friends and find yourself on your own. This happened the first night after an entire day of soaking up the entertainment, sunshine, and local scrumpy. Sometimes it's fun to be lost though because you get to wander about free and aimlessly. Late at night, I wandered to a stage playing great music. I just walked straight to the front and danced with the folks having the best time. I don't know how long it was before I finally asked someone, "Who is this?". "Thievery Corporation!" "Of course it is." (Continued dancing)
The Real Meat Sausage Company - This was not a music artist, so much as an entertaining display. Near closing time on the last evening of the festival, several kids working in a sausage stand were having the time of their lives singing soul music and dancing while occasionally stopping to serve the last bits of food they had remaining. It was extremely endearing.
Thanks once again to my friends, new and old, who made this trip so smooth and fun for me.
The grounds at the festival are set among rolling green hills with plenty of lakes, trees, and nice views to put one in the mood to relax, listen to great music, eat great food, and meet some great folks. The crowd at the festival is, on average, older than many other popular festivals around Europe. There are a healthy number of families and older folks which helps to bring down the rowdy factor somewhat. There is something for everyone there including carnival rides, crafts, and shows for the kids, organic, veggie, and vegan food plus yoga for the heath conscious, and an evening-only nature art walk for those able to pull themselves away from all the music and dancing. I wasn't so able.I'm one of those people who, as long as there is some good, fun dancing somewhere, I have to find it and jump right in. The grounds were just littered with fun parties, including scheduled stage shows and impromptu, guerrilla style parties in bar tents and food stalls. Just bring your decks, DJs, and the party will find you. I was unable to escape the fun for a couple of evenings and didn't make it back to camp until well after sunrise.
Here were some of my favorite artists:
A. Skills - This guy is a twenty four year old master of the turntables and remixer of funk, hip hop, and breaks. Somehow I had never heard of him until the day before the festival. I had decided to listen to as many of the festival artists as I could so that I could decide which shows to try and make. I never got past "A" in the alphabetical list of artists. Once I found A. Skills, I just couldn't stop downloading and listening to the tracks. Who needs B through Z I guess.
The Bays & The Heritage Orchestra - I have been impressed with the innovation that has been happening in music during the past few years. Bedroom music production with inexpensive equipment, the introduction of live video performance to music shows (see Coldcut), live digital sampling on stage to create one's own accompaniment (see Jamie Lidell, Loop!Station). But this performance was one of the most ambitious projects I have ever personally witnessed. The Bays are already known for being an improvisational electronic music act. They don't rehearse or make albums. It is one thing to have a jam session with a basic rhythm section and some electronics, but now they have decided to do it with a full string and wind orchestra. What?! To accomplish this, they assembled an impressive set of technology and talent. Along with The Bays live performance, an orchestral composer was on stage with music software that allowed him to send "sheet" music in real time to the conductor and musicians on stage, each of whom was outfitted with his or her own flat screen music stand which would display the arrangement as it was being composed. The large stage video screens alternated between showing the music score being assembled, the artists themselves, and ambient images that fit with the largely Drum & Bass songs. It was a mind blower, I have to say.Roisin Murphy - I had seen her before at the Melt festival in Germany. I dragged my friends straight up to the front of the stage to see her and created some new fans in the process.
Thievery Corporation - Sometimes at a festival, you lose your friends and find yourself on your own. This happened the first night after an entire day of soaking up the entertainment, sunshine, and local scrumpy. Sometimes it's fun to be lost though because you get to wander about free and aimlessly. Late at night, I wandered to a stage playing great music. I just walked straight to the front and danced with the folks having the best time. I don't know how long it was before I finally asked someone, "Who is this?". "Thievery Corporation!" "Of course it is." (Continued dancing)
The Real Meat Sausage Company - This was not a music artist, so much as an entertaining display. Near closing time on the last evening of the festival, several kids working in a sausage stand were having the time of their lives singing soul music and dancing while occasionally stopping to serve the last bits of food they had remaining. It was extremely endearing.Thanks once again to my friends, new and old, who made this trip so smooth and fun for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)