OK, this place is raining on me again but I can see why people love this city so much. At first I thought it was all the partying - usually going on at high volume downstairs from my bed at 1am, enough to make the floor in my bathroom actually tremor - and that the appeal lay mostly in local beer and music, both v good but not so much fun when travelling alone. But I think the real draw card is that there is always something on. When I arrived it was Vancouver Fringe Festival, now as I am checking out the Vancouver International Film Festival is beginning, if I stayed for that then I wouldn't get out of town before the International Writers Festival fired up. There are heaps of theatres, impro shows with the theatre sports league every week, laser shows at the planetarium on weekends, hockey games and music music music. If I stayed around for everything that was on or coming up I would never get out.
So there, maybe Vancouver is one of the world's most livable cities (in the Top 10, according to Lonely Planet) even with the rain. It certainly has the best comic store I've ever been to. : ) (Though I will admit I was geeking out more over their collection of Gustav Dore and other old timers more than the superheroes.) Still haven't found any decent maple syrup though...
Meanwhile, I don't know what the other 9 are. Paris? Florence? Toowoomba? I don't know. But Portland and Seattle also rate pretty high on livability scales and they are where I am off to on this rainy afternoon.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Fully sick, ja?
Words don't really describe the Rockies. (Except to say.. WOW!) Pictures don't really capture them. (But be warned I will still bore you all stupid with the gazillions of photos I took up there). You simply have to see them, they are unlike anything else on Earth.
After my last blog, I checked in (under the watchful gaze of various stuffed and mounted animal heads) to the Athabasca Hotel, which has been there since Jasper was a train stop in the wilderness. Banff and Jasper national parks are among the oldest national parks in Canada. They were originally started as a tourist venture to get more passengers on Canada Royal Pacific Rail's trains, and that heavy focus on acquiring tourist dollars remains today. After one night at the Athabasca I needed somewhere a little easier on my hard done by wallet.
Then I came out and found my car had been hit with a coke bomb: some kids had planted a full coke can beside my car and stamped on it so that one whole side of the car was COVERED with droplets of sticky soft drink, congealing in the sun. Took f'ing ages to clean off. After that I'd had enough of towns and went down to a canyon and hung out at a lake and climbed up to a look out and watched an elk swim across a river and night found me still in the Jasper area, with the Athabasca still the cheapest option. I drove out of town to a hostel, which was crowded with screaming kids and had no beds. But I was not going back in to Jasper.
"Well," said the girl at the desk in a heavy European accent, "we have a fully sick hostel up on Mt Edith Cavell. There is no electricity or anything.."
So I drove out into the wilderness, up this winding road in a dark forest, with occassional glimpses of snowcaps and glaciers in the starlight, and found this place. Like I said earlier, wow.
So sorry if none of you have heard from me for a few days, I've been busy tramping through forests, and climbing up above the treeline to look at glaciers and sitting by lakes full of icebergs. It's been pretty good.
I spent too long up there and needing to get the car back left me with a hell drive across BC trying to do in one day what had taken me three on the way over. From mountains and 6 degrees in the morning, to corn fields and red barns and fruit stalls with mountains of pumpkins stacked in front of them, to vast sparkling lakes and multi-lane highways through industrial zones, to deserts (yes, deserts, in Canada!) and 28 degree heat, to sunset over more mountains and night-time forests where deer ran from my high beams, I drove and drove and drove. But I couldn't quite do it, I couldn't quite make it, and in the middle of the night with no more energy or wits to drive, I ended up in... HOPE! Chainsaw town! Nooo!
But as I pulled in, I found myself in a strip of motels and takeaways and neon signs, and no sign of the creepy place where I'd had my door rattled in the night. I walked up the motel strip until I found one where I could talk the guy into giving me government rate (ie the rate reserved for Canadian public servants) and returned to Van next morning. Just as Creepysville had disappeared, so had Rain City. It was brilliant sunshine and smiles in Vancouver this time.
Goes to show, I guess, each place has a hundred faces, just depends on what day you come in. I will be back in Australia on the morning of October 12th, which will be the 40th day of my journey, and the last day of the 30th year of my life. Anyone want to get pissed and look at pictures of mountains? Lots and lots of pictures of mountains...
PS Caroline, I owe you a beer, so you better come. It was about 20 minutes. Damn those parked cars, eh, they really sneak up on you.
After my last blog, I checked in (under the watchful gaze of various stuffed and mounted animal heads) to the Athabasca Hotel, which has been there since Jasper was a train stop in the wilderness. Banff and Jasper national parks are among the oldest national parks in Canada. They were originally started as a tourist venture to get more passengers on Canada Royal Pacific Rail's trains, and that heavy focus on acquiring tourist dollars remains today. After one night at the Athabasca I needed somewhere a little easier on my hard done by wallet.
Then I came out and found my car had been hit with a coke bomb: some kids had planted a full coke can beside my car and stamped on it so that one whole side of the car was COVERED with droplets of sticky soft drink, congealing in the sun. Took f'ing ages to clean off. After that I'd had enough of towns and went down to a canyon and hung out at a lake and climbed up to a look out and watched an elk swim across a river and night found me still in the Jasper area, with the Athabasca still the cheapest option. I drove out of town to a hostel, which was crowded with screaming kids and had no beds. But I was not going back in to Jasper.
"Well," said the girl at the desk in a heavy European accent, "we have a fully sick hostel up on Mt Edith Cavell. There is no electricity or anything.."
So I drove out into the wilderness, up this winding road in a dark forest, with occassional glimpses of snowcaps and glaciers in the starlight, and found this place. Like I said earlier, wow.
So sorry if none of you have heard from me for a few days, I've been busy tramping through forests, and climbing up above the treeline to look at glaciers and sitting by lakes full of icebergs. It's been pretty good.
I spent too long up there and needing to get the car back left me with a hell drive across BC trying to do in one day what had taken me three on the way over. From mountains and 6 degrees in the morning, to corn fields and red barns and fruit stalls with mountains of pumpkins stacked in front of them, to vast sparkling lakes and multi-lane highways through industrial zones, to deserts (yes, deserts, in Canada!) and 28 degree heat, to sunset over more mountains and night-time forests where deer ran from my high beams, I drove and drove and drove. But I couldn't quite do it, I couldn't quite make it, and in the middle of the night with no more energy or wits to drive, I ended up in... HOPE! Chainsaw town! Nooo!
But as I pulled in, I found myself in a strip of motels and takeaways and neon signs, and no sign of the creepy place where I'd had my door rattled in the night. I walked up the motel strip until I found one where I could talk the guy into giving me government rate (ie the rate reserved for Canadian public servants) and returned to Van next morning. Just as Creepysville had disappeared, so had Rain City. It was brilliant sunshine and smiles in Vancouver this time.
Goes to show, I guess, each place has a hundred faces, just depends on what day you come in. I will be back in Australia on the morning of October 12th, which will be the 40th day of my journey, and the last day of the 30th year of my life. Anyone want to get pissed and look at pictures of mountains? Lots and lots of pictures of mountains...
PS Caroline, I owe you a beer, so you better come. It was about 20 minutes. Damn those parked cars, eh, they really sneak up on you.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Beyond Hope
OK so I didn't get murdered by a chainsaw wielding maniac.
BUT...
That town was freaky. At 4 am I got woken by my door being bashed and shaken and my lock jiggled. I still have no effing idea what it was but it was like there was a demon out there trying to get in. It stopped when I got up and put on a light.
WHAT THE...?
I guess it could have been a fierce Canadian wind. A very fierce Canadian wind. Or a bear who wanted to get in at the large quantity of bananas I have with me. Or someone from another room who got drunk and thought their door was stuck. I don't know. At 4 am, the most plausible explanation was that it was A MURDEROUS AXE WIELDING LUNATIC WHO WANTED TO THRUST HIS HEAD THROUGH THE DOOR AND SCREAM HERRRRRE'S JOHNNY, BEFORE CUTTING ME INTO LITTLE PIECES AND EATING THEM!
Anyway, I didn't get much sleep. I had only got to sleep at 3, the lunatic (or bear, or wind etc) came round at 4, and after that I wasn't feeling sleepy.
So next day, despite being in a place optimistically named "Hope" I despaired. The day before I had been so bad a driver I had... yeah well, it's a bit embarassing what actually happened but it wasn't my finest hour let's just say that. Now I'd had 1 or 2 hours sleep, it was pouring rain and I had a choice of driving up a mountain in the fog or staying another night in the chainsaw town.
Neither was looking good. I got so dejected I turned around and drove back to Vancouver.
Or thought I did.
Wow, I'm thinking, as I drove off in my sleepy daze, this so much more scenic on this side of the river. On the other side it was all suburbs, who would have thought this landscape would be so different. Man I'm lucky I didn't try to go on in my state - that was 300km or so to the next town and this hundred and fifty k to Vancouver is taking, like, forever.
Does anyone else smell a moron?
I was so tired I went straight past my road and driven off in a third direction. 200km down the road realised I was heading toward a place called "Hundred Mile House" and pretty much nothing else but logged out badlands.
So...
I didn't get where I was going. I didn't turn back. I got to see a side of Canada I had never dreamed of. Still alive, still driving, just reached the Rockies today. Passed a sign reading "Dangers d'ourse. Bear Warning". Yeah, it's all good.
BUT...
That town was freaky. At 4 am I got woken by my door being bashed and shaken and my lock jiggled. I still have no effing idea what it was but it was like there was a demon out there trying to get in. It stopped when I got up and put on a light.
WHAT THE...?
I guess it could have been a fierce Canadian wind. A very fierce Canadian wind. Or a bear who wanted to get in at the large quantity of bananas I have with me. Or someone from another room who got drunk and thought their door was stuck. I don't know. At 4 am, the most plausible explanation was that it was A MURDEROUS AXE WIELDING LUNATIC WHO WANTED TO THRUST HIS HEAD THROUGH THE DOOR AND SCREAM HERRRRRE'S JOHNNY, BEFORE CUTTING ME INTO LITTLE PIECES AND EATING THEM!
Anyway, I didn't get much sleep. I had only got to sleep at 3, the lunatic (or bear, or wind etc) came round at 4, and after that I wasn't feeling sleepy.
So next day, despite being in a place optimistically named "Hope" I despaired. The day before I had been so bad a driver I had... yeah well, it's a bit embarassing what actually happened but it wasn't my finest hour let's just say that. Now I'd had 1 or 2 hours sleep, it was pouring rain and I had a choice of driving up a mountain in the fog or staying another night in the chainsaw town.
Neither was looking good. I got so dejected I turned around and drove back to Vancouver.
Or thought I did.
Wow, I'm thinking, as I drove off in my sleepy daze, this so much more scenic on this side of the river. On the other side it was all suburbs, who would have thought this landscape would be so different. Man I'm lucky I didn't try to go on in my state - that was 300km or so to the next town and this hundred and fifty k to Vancouver is taking, like, forever.
Does anyone else smell a moron?
I was so tired I went straight past my road and driven off in a third direction. 200km down the road realised I was heading toward a place called "Hundred Mile House" and pretty much nothing else but logged out badlands.
So...
I didn't get where I was going. I didn't turn back. I got to see a side of Canada I had never dreamed of. Still alive, still driving, just reached the Rockies today. Passed a sign reading "Dangers d'ourse. Bear Warning". Yeah, it's all good.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Rain City
I have finally got out of Vancouver. I seemed to crash land there for longer than I intended, getting rained on, getting shouted at by various street bums and wondering what I was doing in this forlorn part of the world.
I know. Arts! West Coast is famous for its arts. So I went to Granville Island (a man made island under a highway bridge which they seem to have created for the express purpose of housing the artistic community) and saw a couple of Fringe shows. "They Went Another Way" was a pleasant comedy about a couple of struggling actors - a good warm up act though not mind blowing. This was followed by "Jesus: the Lost Years" by Monster Theatre. This filled in the years in Jesus' life between 17 and 30, with high energy physical theatre and Hollywood cliches. All done by two actors, who would switch roles mid scene. It rocked. It's the only fringe show I've ever seen get a standing ovation.
So Fringe was good but I missed "Bard on the Beach" Shakespeare festival because I spent a whole day looking for a mobile phone. A whole day. They are all locked to the networks, and trying to find an "unlocked" one to use with my Telstra SIM was nigh impossible. "Hmm, an unlocked phone. An UNLOCKED phone? I think they have them over at Wally's Wireless World..." But go to Wally's Wireless World and they will direct you somewhere else, who will direct you back to the first place you went to. Others will just refer you to mysterious "third parties" whose identities they are bound my contract not to reveal - I assume these "parties" are just guys on the street with greatcoats who go "Psst, you wanna phone" because no above board phone dealer ever has them.
Which left me again wondering why I was here. I know! Beer! Canada is supposed to have good beer, if you go to the little brewpubs, so I took me to Steamworks Brewery in Gastown, the semi-slummy heritage part of town. I had wheat beer and dark beer and lager and raspberry beer, RAPSBERRY!, and I got well drunk and then ended up spending half the night sobering up under an awning waiting for the rain to die down enough for me to stagger back home.
Again I wonder.
I know! Mountains! The Rockies are just up the road. Why don't I get a car and drive up there? So I got a car. I can drive on the other side of the road, it's all good. Uh... yeah... Wanna take bets how long til I pranged it? Guess the right number of minutes (yes minutes, not hours) and I will buy you a beer. When I can afford one again after this trip. Should be by 2010.
Anyway, this place I'm in is called "Hope" and it is apparently the "Chainsaw Carving Capital". I assume they're talking about WOOD carving, but you know, this is rural America. Fingers crossed. If I don't post again anytime soon, then...
Anyway, keep in touch, people. It's a lonely part of the world up here.
(PS I did eventually get a shitty little phone for $300. But I have still lost everybody's numbers, so don't forget to email yours to me, if you haven't already.)
I know. Arts! West Coast is famous for its arts. So I went to Granville Island (a man made island under a highway bridge which they seem to have created for the express purpose of housing the artistic community) and saw a couple of Fringe shows. "They Went Another Way" was a pleasant comedy about a couple of struggling actors - a good warm up act though not mind blowing. This was followed by "Jesus: the Lost Years" by Monster Theatre. This filled in the years in Jesus' life between 17 and 30, with high energy physical theatre and Hollywood cliches. All done by two actors, who would switch roles mid scene. It rocked. It's the only fringe show I've ever seen get a standing ovation.
So Fringe was good but I missed "Bard on the Beach" Shakespeare festival because I spent a whole day looking for a mobile phone. A whole day. They are all locked to the networks, and trying to find an "unlocked" one to use with my Telstra SIM was nigh impossible. "Hmm, an unlocked phone. An UNLOCKED phone? I think they have them over at Wally's Wireless World..." But go to Wally's Wireless World and they will direct you somewhere else, who will direct you back to the first place you went to. Others will just refer you to mysterious "third parties" whose identities they are bound my contract not to reveal - I assume these "parties" are just guys on the street with greatcoats who go "Psst, you wanna phone" because no above board phone dealer ever has them.
Which left me again wondering why I was here. I know! Beer! Canada is supposed to have good beer, if you go to the little brewpubs, so I took me to Steamworks Brewery in Gastown, the semi-slummy heritage part of town. I had wheat beer and dark beer and lager and raspberry beer, RAPSBERRY!, and I got well drunk and then ended up spending half the night sobering up under an awning waiting for the rain to die down enough for me to stagger back home.
Again I wonder.
I know! Mountains! The Rockies are just up the road. Why don't I get a car and drive up there? So I got a car. I can drive on the other side of the road, it's all good. Uh... yeah... Wanna take bets how long til I pranged it? Guess the right number of minutes (yes minutes, not hours) and I will buy you a beer. When I can afford one again after this trip. Should be by 2010.
Anyway, this place I'm in is called "Hope" and it is apparently the "Chainsaw Carving Capital". I assume they're talking about WOOD carving, but you know, this is rural America. Fingers crossed. If I don't post again anytime soon, then...
Anyway, keep in touch, people. It's a lonely part of the world up here.
(PS I did eventually get a shitty little phone for $300. But I have still lost everybody's numbers, so don't forget to email yours to me, if you haven't already.)
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Welcome to Vanshterdam
Seattle was great. Obviously seeing the city with my mother wasn't all grunge music and sleepless nights a-partying, and having to get up at 6am because of her early conference starts was a drag, but the city's got a great vibe. I can't remember who I've emailed about what but to recap briefly: the Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame is awesome (although, sorry Rami I resisted dropping in next door to the Star Trek 40th anniversary convention), the burritos here are tremendous and the coffee's great. I even went into the original Starbucks - where they still make it by hand on the original machine and it's way better than in their fully automated franchise stores. With Mum's conference thing we also went to Blake Island (birth place of chief Se'Atl after home the town was, to the good chief's annoyance, named) for an "authentic" Indian cultural display. It was so tacky it was iconic - like something from the Simpsons or the Family Guy.
Since then, I've been on the go. We caught a ferry to Victoria - Canada's answer to Canberra - being a small town, on an island, which is the provincial capital of British Columbia. It also thinks it's Britain, with Tudor homes, hotels that serve High Tea (another "authentic" cultural experience at $60 for cucumber sandwiches and scones - given we've drunk tea before we passed on that one) and double decker tour buses. From there to Vancouver - a Canadian mixed grill of steak, salmon and prawns for dinner and then an early start up to Whistler the next day.
Whistler is unbelievable. It is not just a ski lodge. They call it a "village" but it's not that either. It's Ski City. Take a chalet, turn it into a palace, make this just one wing of a building and that's what the lodges look like. There's several "villages" of them, with golf courses and celebrity homes as well. We took a ride on a "floatplane" (ie a seaplane) around the mountains and the tail end of the Pemberton Icefield. WICKED! Even more wicked that we got back to the lake before the storm hit!! It came rolling over the mountain like the apocalypse and the winds bounced our plane on the water a few times as we landed. Those who had gone up the mountain on the gondola got windblown, snowed on and had to be rescued by truck. There were still some trapped up there at the end of the day, but none from our group.
Next day, today, Mum left for Oz and so it's just me. Gotta say, while Canada's got the reputation for being the nicer of the North American nations, since crossing the border we've found people a lot less helpful (pre-paid shuttle bus to the airport that doesn't turn up, anyone?), people actually do get surly if they don't think you've tipped enough and I've copped a bit of aggression from random people on the bus or the street, which I didn't in the States. Vancouver is a lot grungier and seedier than I was expecting. It has the reputation of being liberal re drugs ("Vansterdam" some call it, according to Lonely Planet) and that's actually been quite apparent - both from the number of drugged out people I've met and the smell in my hostel!!!
Still, the multicultural nature of the place is pretty cool, the surroundings are beautiful and any big city (Van has about 2 million) is going to bitch-slap you on your first day or two, til you find the good bits. I'm here til Monday, in time to catch the end of the Fringe Festival. : )
However I am changing to a budget hotel from tomorrow night on. I just checked in and used the bathroom at the hostel and I'm still feelin' kinda dizzy.....
Since then, I've been on the go. We caught a ferry to Victoria - Canada's answer to Canberra - being a small town, on an island, which is the provincial capital of British Columbia. It also thinks it's Britain, with Tudor homes, hotels that serve High Tea (another "authentic" cultural experience at $60 for cucumber sandwiches and scones - given we've drunk tea before we passed on that one) and double decker tour buses. From there to Vancouver - a Canadian mixed grill of steak, salmon and prawns for dinner and then an early start up to Whistler the next day.
Whistler is unbelievable. It is not just a ski lodge. They call it a "village" but it's not that either. It's Ski City. Take a chalet, turn it into a palace, make this just one wing of a building and that's what the lodges look like. There's several "villages" of them, with golf courses and celebrity homes as well. We took a ride on a "floatplane" (ie a seaplane) around the mountains and the tail end of the Pemberton Icefield. WICKED! Even more wicked that we got back to the lake before the storm hit!! It came rolling over the mountain like the apocalypse and the winds bounced our plane on the water a few times as we landed. Those who had gone up the mountain on the gondola got windblown, snowed on and had to be rescued by truck. There were still some trapped up there at the end of the day, but none from our group.
Next day, today, Mum left for Oz and so it's just me. Gotta say, while Canada's got the reputation for being the nicer of the North American nations, since crossing the border we've found people a lot less helpful (pre-paid shuttle bus to the airport that doesn't turn up, anyone?), people actually do get surly if they don't think you've tipped enough and I've copped a bit of aggression from random people on the bus or the street, which I didn't in the States. Vancouver is a lot grungier and seedier than I was expecting. It has the reputation of being liberal re drugs ("Vansterdam" some call it, according to Lonely Planet) and that's actually been quite apparent - both from the number of drugged out people I've met and the smell in my hostel!!!
Still, the multicultural nature of the place is pretty cool, the surroundings are beautiful and any big city (Van has about 2 million) is going to bitch-slap you on your first day or two, til you find the good bits. I'm here til Monday, in time to catch the end of the Fringe Festival. : )
However I am changing to a budget hotel from tomorrow night on. I just checked in and used the bathroom at the hostel and I'm still feelin' kinda dizzy.....
Thursday, September 07, 2006
A Lone Knight
Okay so I am living on borrowed time on this free internet terminal before someone wants it. Gotta be quick.
My plane ride was hell on a stick. Next to old people on both flights. The antique New Zullanders I was next to Auckland - SF were the worst: the guy kept going "A-whoo!" like a geriatric werewolf. He was all over red with some rash too. I switched off by reading George Lucas' biography (great prep for going to California!) and playing chess on the Air NZ inflight entertainment system. Nice idea but the computer player was dumb as two planks. On its highest setting, even after I sacrificed my queen, a rook and a bishop to even the odds it still couldn't beat me. I cleaned its entire force up using a single knight.
So San Fran is really great, but I only saw the Golden Gate from a distance - when I went closer it was covered in mist. It is hot in the day, then every afternoon the sea mist rolls in and it turns cold. The Mosser was interesting - seeming to exist only to route profits toward its studio and various environmentally sustainable farming initiatives. The shower had only one tap because water came at one temperature - freeze-your-butt-off cold.
The people are really friendly. It's like TV, you can just go and sit in a bar and start talking to people. Which is why my beer budget blew out early. Every day I meet someone interesting. What's odd is that a whole lot of people "recognise" me like I've got doppelgangers all down the west coast. I've had a homey girl call out to me in the street, thinking I was "Joey", a hippy in Haight ask me where my blue puppy was and a guy on the train going "I keep thinking this guy is Chris. Hello Chris. Hello!"
So anyway got into Seattle one day too early , at midnight, had to book in someplace over budget (where I could see the Space Needle from my window) and after the 25 hour train ride I just slept and kept having hot showers. About time I checked out the birthplace of grunge. Some things, like all my gadgets (phone, camera etc) not working are getting frustrating but otherwise I love it here even if I totally can't afford it. Travelling alone can be lonely but it's easier being able to talk to people you meet and hey, if one knight can win a chess game, surely one Aussie can survive anywhere...
My plane ride was hell on a stick. Next to old people on both flights. The antique New Zullanders I was next to Auckland - SF were the worst: the guy kept going "A-whoo!" like a geriatric werewolf. He was all over red with some rash too. I switched off by reading George Lucas' biography (great prep for going to California!) and playing chess on the Air NZ inflight entertainment system. Nice idea but the computer player was dumb as two planks. On its highest setting, even after I sacrificed my queen, a rook and a bishop to even the odds it still couldn't beat me. I cleaned its entire force up using a single knight.
So San Fran is really great, but I only saw the Golden Gate from a distance - when I went closer it was covered in mist. It is hot in the day, then every afternoon the sea mist rolls in and it turns cold. The Mosser was interesting - seeming to exist only to route profits toward its studio and various environmentally sustainable farming initiatives. The shower had only one tap because water came at one temperature - freeze-your-butt-off cold.
The people are really friendly. It's like TV, you can just go and sit in a bar and start talking to people. Which is why my beer budget blew out early. Every day I meet someone interesting. What's odd is that a whole lot of people "recognise" me like I've got doppelgangers all down the west coast. I've had a homey girl call out to me in the street, thinking I was "Joey", a hippy in Haight ask me where my blue puppy was and a guy on the train going "I keep thinking this guy is Chris. Hello Chris. Hello!"
So anyway got into Seattle one day too early , at midnight, had to book in someplace over budget (where I could see the Space Needle from my window) and after the 25 hour train ride I just slept and kept having hot showers. About time I checked out the birthplace of grunge. Some things, like all my gadgets (phone, camera etc) not working are getting frustrating but otherwise I love it here even if I totally can't afford it. Travelling alone can be lonely but it's easier being able to talk to people you meet and hey, if one knight can win a chess game, surely one Aussie can survive anywhere...
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Tears of a Genius
About to head off overseas for an unknown period of time, with unclear destination past the first week, I did the logical thing to prepare - went to Docklands for the "Da Vinci Machines" exhibition. Yeah!!
Da Vinci and the Docklands are a strange combination. Docklands has been set up as a "destination" and "attraction" full of cafes and funky apartments and things that should bring life to a place - but it is strangely soulless and hollow. While in the Da Vinci tent pulley systems and machines of war and cogs, usually such lifeless things, are given warmth by having been so lovingly made of polished wood and rope. If you are in marvellous Melb it's worth seeing - a few minutes in the chamber of mirrors (that enable you to see yourself from every angle with one glance) is a trip out worth the admission price alone.
I came out of the exhibition with an amazing sense of his mind - brilliant and distracted at the same time. In particular, his fascination with flight is striking. Working in an era of plague and sword and cannon warfare and horsedrawn carts, he designed every conceivable way people might attempt to fly, from ornothopters (mechanical birds) to gliders to a primitive helicopter that was supposed to work my men furiously working at crank-handles to spin the huge spiral shaped fan. None ever got off the ground. Most never could. But that didn't stop him not only designing them in intricate detail but also coming up with in-flight devices for navigation and measuring wind speed etc.
He did however leave out two key components of flight in his calculations - cheap and nasty food served in plastic packaging and squealing children. If he had been on Air NZ flight 6 with me today, he would have wept.
(PS in Auckland airport, waiting for transfer. Could be worse than Docklands but not sure)
Da Vinci and the Docklands are a strange combination. Docklands has been set up as a "destination" and "attraction" full of cafes and funky apartments and things that should bring life to a place - but it is strangely soulless and hollow. While in the Da Vinci tent pulley systems and machines of war and cogs, usually such lifeless things, are given warmth by having been so lovingly made of polished wood and rope. If you are in marvellous Melb it's worth seeing - a few minutes in the chamber of mirrors (that enable you to see yourself from every angle with one glance) is a trip out worth the admission price alone.
I came out of the exhibition with an amazing sense of his mind - brilliant and distracted at the same time. In particular, his fascination with flight is striking. Working in an era of plague and sword and cannon warfare and horsedrawn carts, he designed every conceivable way people might attempt to fly, from ornothopters (mechanical birds) to gliders to a primitive helicopter that was supposed to work my men furiously working at crank-handles to spin the huge spiral shaped fan. None ever got off the ground. Most never could. But that didn't stop him not only designing them in intricate detail but also coming up with in-flight devices for navigation and measuring wind speed etc.
He did however leave out two key components of flight in his calculations - cheap and nasty food served in plastic packaging and squealing children. If he had been on Air NZ flight 6 with me today, he would have wept.
(PS in Auckland airport, waiting for transfer. Could be worse than Docklands but not sure)
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