Art and Other Art

I started today at Trafalgar Square.  I was about 45 minutes early for what I was there for, so allowed myself a touristy selfie.

Note the lid.  And the blue sky.  Crisp weather today, but it wasn't trying to take me out. 

I was there for a Van Gogh exhibit at the National Gallery.  (I bought the accompanying Audio Tour. Which is just a link and you listen to it on your phone, with your own earbuds.  This, my friends, is a welcome innovation.)  Over 60 of his works - largely from Arles and the hospital at Saint-Remy.  You could totally see the development of his style as the exhibit progresses and the paintings venture more into expressionism.  Cool shit.  I didn't take many pictures because that's not my thing.  Also because I kept trying to capture some of his greens and my camera kept washing them out.  I for reals had an emotional reaction to this intense bluish green he had going, but the Pixel's camera couldn't capture it.  So I stared at it for a bit and let it wash over me and that's pretty much how I appreciated this art.

I did snap this one, though.  I mean, we know he did Sunflowers and Irises, but I hadn't known he painted roses!

I did a close-up because Look At It!  That paint is so thick it's damn near three-dimensional.

After I left the exhibit, I went back to Trafalgar Square because the Christmas Market was there.  And while I had been underwhelmed with the crafts for sale, I had my eye on the hot chocolate.  Which was dark and Belgian and covered in whipped cream (and more chocolate) and zero regrets. 

My evening activity was a show.  (I know, you're shocked.)  The Old Vic does an annual production of "A Christmas Carol."  I've never gone to it before, but this year, John Simm was playing Scrooge, and he's definitely a favorite of mine, so I was in. 

The whole nine yards, man.  They had seats on the stage and I got a front-row stage seat - it was a package deal complete with a programme and beverage.  In my case, a cup of mulled wine.  AND the production gives out mince pies before the show.  So I'm sipping my mulled wine and chomping on my mince pie and they're playing pre-show Christmas music and, yes, it isn't even Thanksgiving yet, but I got into the spirit. 

The adaptation is...  Look, I generally consider myself a bit of a Dickens purist.  (My tradition used to be seeing Patrick Stewart's one-man production where he starts with the book and doesn't stray too far from it.)  This particular adaptation was pretty loose-ish.  I could complain about lines from the original that I missed here, but, honestly, it was true to the spirit of Dickens if not the text, and it was presented with such heartfelt enthusiasm and holiday magic that I was all in. 

At the interval, I had to run to the bathroom (the mulled wine will do that to you) and left my programme on my seat.  Upon my return:  no programme.  It hadn't fallen behind or anything; damn thing had run away.  Nice folks next to me immediately gave me one of theirs.

Simm's performance was better in the second act than the first -- his Scroogey Scrooge had been pretty standard, but his Scrooge Who Kept Christmas Better Than Anyone was a portrait of unbridled joy.  And we all felt it and shared in it. 

When the show ended, I thanked my seat neighbors again for their programme.  We mutually gushed about the show for a bit, and they said they hoped I enjoyed the rest of my visit.  They wished me a Merry Christmas and I wished them one back.  And we meant it.

... And the blustery day

I have a cute wool hat.  It's nice and warm and I nearly wore it yesterday, but I'm glad I didn't as I would've been chasing it down the street within seconds.  (I put on a rain hat, with a little lanyard under my chin, to walk two blocks in the rain that evening.  It flew back and was just tied around my neck within the first block.)  Look, England is getting battered by this storm and what I'm getting in London is very much the least of it.  I'm not complaining; I'm just painting a picture.  And that picture is:  don't bother brushing your hair if you're going outside. 

I had little to do yesterday, although buying a pair of comfortable shoes that could step in puddles better than my current options was high on the list.  (Again, not complaining.  But between my wonky hip and my foot injury, I was limited in what I could safely pack to only two pairs of shoes:  soft flats that would fall apart in a puddle and boots that are a bit too loose and becoming a tripping hazard.)  So I found a likely shoe store and aimed toward it on the Underground.  Bought shoes.  Entered the Underground station to return to the hotel.

The platform was so full of people, it was backing up the stairs leading to the platform.  Someone behind me yelled to the folks on the platform, asking what the board said about when the next train was due.   The board was blank.  I decided to hoof it instead and backed my way out of the station (paying about $3 for the privilege - internet says that should be refunded within 7 days, so I'll postpone my outrage).  

Let's take a moment to talk about Suspicious Parcels That Need Blowing Up.  The day I arrived, there was one at Gatwick Airport and another outside the American Embassy.  Yesterday, it seems there was one at one of the underground stations a bit further up the line.  Delay explained, but WTF IS GOING ON WITH THE WORLD?  (Wait, don't tell me; I know this one.)

Walking around London, I heard a man explaining to his son what "Internet Cafes" were, and I've never felt so old.

Had afternoon tea at my current favorite tea joint:  the Grand Saloon at Theatre Royal Drury Lane.  Food is about an 8; but the location is just off the charts for theatre geeks.

Not many shows play in London on Sundays, so I took in "Back to the Future."  (Ticket had been purchased, like, a day before I'd learned the touring company was coming to L.A.)  Kind of glad I saw the original production here as the most noteable part was the lighting that covered the ceiling, the boxes, and the front part of the walls into the auditorium.  Yes, I know, a show isn't great if you come out humming the lights.  But it was fun and nostalgic (for us GenX'ers) and, while great new songs would've been a pleasant surprise, that's not really why anyone goes to see it.

Today promises to be cold but dry and not too windy.  Excitement!

Edited to add:  Normally, when I'm in a hotel someplace, I don't mind changing with the curtains open.  Some foreign stranger wants to amuse themselves with a free peek?  Have at it.  However, with the current view out of my window, I've chosen to be a bit more demure.

15, for the win

Yeah, the rest of yesterday was a continuous stream of me walking someplace in the cold and wet, and then going inside to warm up on the outside and inside. 

It was also "See Doctor Who Actors On Stage Day," with a matinee of "The Duchess (of Malfi)" starring Jodie Whittaker, followed up by "The Importance of Being Earnest," with Ncuti Gatwa as Algie.

I had real hopes for "The Duchess," largely based on how Whittaker had devastated me in "Broadchurch."  But this particular adaptation didn't ask for Beth Latimer levels of quiet despair.  Duchess starts with her circling the drain and it's only a matter of time before she well and fully realizes it's full of sewage.  I was more impressed by the dude playing Bosola (Jude Owulu), as he actually got to play some inner conflict (although the script gives him a real clunker of a line at the end - show, not tell, people).  Production was interrupted by a medical emergency in the audience, handled by all with complete professionalism.

And then I got rained on - walking around another place with lots of food and beverage stalls I didn't go to because of the rain.  Instead, I walked into a restaurant.  The guy at the desk gives me the, "can I help you?" face, and I just say, "I need food and a dry place to eat it."  Sometimes, being direct is best. 

That night was "Earnest," and, you know, if you're going to "gay up" a play, I'm pretty sure Oscar Wilde would give you posthumous permission to go crazy.  (And yet, they gave Lady Bracknell back to a woman - Sharon D. Clarke, who played it with the imperiousness of an African queen.)  But before the action even starts, a little prologue assures us that this is just Gatwa's playground, and gender is just another social construct we might as well poke fun at, too.  It's fresh and delicious (and the pacing drags considerably when he's off stage.  I nearly nodded off in the bits with Gwendolyn and Cecily; the Gwendolyn actress had a handle on an intelligence burning beneath her exterior, but the Cecily hadn't found it yet - making her a ridiculously unsuitable match for the incendiary brains of Gatwa's Algernon.)  I think it's still in previews and perhaps they'll fix the pacing before opening.  It'll come to NT Live and will likely make Gatwa more of a star than he already is.

But wait, there's more

(Final count:  4 team trivia wins - that's 2 fridge magnets, a keychain, and a pin to add to my Windstar Crap collection.  Others on my team were going to give theirs away as stocking stuffers.  I have zero use for any of them, except the memories they trigger.)

Next stop was Way Too Much Time at the Venice airport.  Some flights were out and out cancelled; mine was just delayed two hours.  On account of one massive storm (which is presently dropping snow all over Scotland - please note the map of plow locations I snapped off the TV.  Zoom in.  Seems it's all about giving your plow a clever name.

I'm staying in one of those hotels with itty bitty rooms, on account of London being quite crowded for some reason.  (Large concerts at the big venues, Christmas lights and markets everywhere, and the occasional political protest/rally.)  Also, it's probably one of the only parts of England only dealing with light rain just now.

Went up theatre last night and saw "Operation Mincemeat," which was DELIGHTFUL.  When we'd gone to Messina, our guide mentioned the Allies took Sicily back before the Normandy Invasion.  So when the show was all about how the Allies misdirected Hitler into believing they were going to invade Sardinia instead, it seemed to link up with my earlier travels.  Anyway:  five performers, each playing multiple characters of both genders (and many nationalities) - often for laughs and occasionally for poignancy.  I'm torn on the score - music was distinctly unmemorable but lyrics were SUPER clever (and often fast).  It's coming to Broadway in the Spring and I suspect its sensibilities will play pretty well to liberal theatre peeps in 2025 America.

Wandered out in the rain this morning to check out the nearest Christmas Market - this at Trafalgar Square.  The food choices looked suitably decadent, but I was pretty disappointed in the gift stalls.  The offerings were pretty much the same stuff you see on offer year-round in countless stalls at Covent Garden and Camden Market, although (I imagine) slightly pricier due to location.

I may find myself at another (allegedly better) market later today.  Watch this space. 

Got a bit soggy and cold there (why do you feel colder in the rain?) so did what I normally do when soggy and cold - found the nearest Din Tai Fung and warmed myself with tea, soup, and xiao long bao.  (Foodgasm!)  Ready to face the world again.

Venice!

Although I'd been to Italy before, I'd never been to Venice.  Was kind of excited to see it, although the weather was much colder than the rest of our trip (and it was threatening rain).

There was some logistical shit that got problematic when I tried to sneak in two timed events in the day (and I was trying to change the time on the second so I would get back before the rain, and what they'd told me about the first one's timing was not what actually happened on the ground), but, anyway, it's all worked out ok, (even though I got in a few thousand unnecessary steps) and I DID get back before the rain, so yay! 

We started the day on board, for upwards of an hour of watching us get pulled into Venice.  (Apologies for the reflection of breakfast in there.)

First impression of Venice:  it's very boaty.

So, the first tour was a walking tour of the Doge's Palace, which, well, nobody ever accused the Venetians of, you know, subtle displays of wealth.

I honestly didn't want to take any pictures because, I mean, if you want to see what the Doge's Palace looks like, there's plenty of pictures out there.  (At one point, our tour guide - miffed that one of the rooms he'd wanted to show us was closed for renovations - actually had us gather 'round a small photo of it.  Which seemed not the best use of our time given there was other stuff RIGHT THERE we could actually SEE.)  That said, I took a bunch of pictures anyway, just because the art and the gilt and the ceilings. 

And then [logistics omitted] I ended up in this itty bitty shop that was itself three centuries old, where I met Giorgio, this crazy master mask craftsman.  I mean, check this shit out.

See those blanks at the bottom?  I got to paint one!  It was, shall we say, the worst mask in the shop, but it was about the experience, not the product.  Along the way, Giorgio gave me a history lesson on Carnival masks.  

I chose the kitty cat (because duh). At first, I'd thought this was a recent option they just added for tourists, but it is actually a traditional shape. Cats were not native to Venice, but they were imported... right around when Venetians figured out that Plague was transmitted by rats. The imported felines took care of the rat population and no more Plague. Result: Venice is yet another place where cats are revered.

I asked Giorgio if everyone always wears traditional masks or if they change fashions.  So he showed me the new ones he's making for the next season - ornate laser cut metal masks, made to evoke the image of Venetian lace.  ("Try it on!  Take a picture!")

Then ... insert here the part where I'm trying to find the water bus (Vaporetto) and I'm quietly singing a song to myself, the lyrics of which are, "I'm gonna get so lost in Venice...", but I really only ended up Slightly Misplaced.  (Twice.)

And I got back to the ship in time for a nice, warming cream tea!

Zadar!

Ok, before Zadar, let me finish up Dubrovnik.  I didn't go back into Dubrovnik.  We only had a few hours before All Aboard and I may have slept in.  Also, we'd have to take a shuttle into town, and, given the limited time, it wasn't going to work. 

Once we left, the seas got a bit choppier and I felt a bit greenish.

Drank some Coke, which calmed the greenish, and then led my team to victory on the Broadway Music game. 

(My "identity" on my last trip was "that woman what still wears a mask indoors."  Now it's "that woman what still wears a mask indoors and won the trivia three times."  I feel more comfortable with this.)

Ok, Zadar.

Here's the thing about Zadar.  The weather forecast for today was 100 percent chance of thunderstorms.  We'd signed up for a tour by (electric) Tuk Tuk.  Which didn't seem like a great idea in a thunderstorm.  Now, I could cancel the tour with 48 hours notice, but, otherwise, I was told this thing runs "rain or shine, unless it's unsafe."  After confirming the weather report 48 hours out, I cancelled the tour.

Fast forward to today.  It's still 100% chance of thunderstorms, but not until afternoon.  So with a couple of dry morning hours, I decided to have a wander around Zadar instead. 

I confess this is kind of my favorite thing to do in a new city.  I got a gps (and my vague memories of a 15 minute port talk yesterday), and the generic mission of "buy a souvenir" and I'm off!

See?  I'm happy already!

This solar panel thing - right next to where we parked - is a public art installation called Greeting to the Sun.  At night, it's supposed to give us a good light show.  (Our Destination Manager has never seen it because they leave port too early in the summer, but since days are so short now, we've got a shot.  Then again, it was so overcast today, I'm not sure how charged up the panels will get.)

This is another public art thing called a sea organ.  There are underwater pipes all along here (with little holes running along the tops of the steps) and the currents make music.  It's deep and sounds a little like whale song.

Given the total lack of people around these art things (and the Dubrovnik experience the other day) I was starting to wonder if there are actually people in Croatia.  I was excited to finally find some.

So, I'm walking mostly aimlessly down this shopping street and see what looks like a city wall at the end of it.  Google Maps marks it as a tourist attraction called "Land Gate," so I go through it (not much to look at) and then turn around.  Oh, yes; I see why it's marked now.

Turning back ahead of me (on the outside of the gate) it looks like a park.  (Queen Jelena Madijevka Park, Google Maps helpfully adds.)  There's a few stairs it looks like I can climb to get a view.  (I am aware that this sentence has gotten me into trouble before, as my knees are much better going up than going down.  But this really DOES look like Not Too Many Stairs.  So I investigate.  And am rewarded.)

Is this a great autumn day or what?

On my way back down, Google Maps tells me I'm near Five Wells Square, which had been mentioned in the port talk.  Five 16th Century Stone Wells.  Ok, I give it a look. 

For reals, I had walked through it already and missed the wells entirely.  Looks like they were setting up stands for some sort of outdoor festival or market there, and the wells were kind of ... just there.  But here's three of them anyway.

I start heading back toward the shopping street and nearly run into a Roman column.  Just hanging out by the coffee shop.

Actually, Roman ruins are just sort of THERE all around Zadar.  Here's the remains of a Roman forum right next to a church.

I had managed to find my souvenir (mug) by this point, so I was headed back toward the ship.  I was going to go down one street in particular, but saw two things that suggested a different route.  The first was this little pathway with Roman ruins set up on either side.  (You could touch 'em!  I touched one.  I like touching stuff like that and thinking about the stonemasons and artists who handled it all those years ago.  Did they know their work would still be admired 2000 years later?)

The other thing was the fact that the pathway ended at the sea, and this pier.  (Google Maps suggested is was the Best Place To View Sunsets.  I'm thinking not today.)  But it was a nice place to continue my walk.

And get myself back to our ship!

Unusual Day in Dubrovnik

I woke up to this outside my window.

Welcome to Croatia!  I'd been to Italy before, but we now have a new country I can check off the ol' list. 

When I booked this cruise, I was unaware that today is a national holiday in Croatia - a day of Remembrance for those who lost their lives in the Croatian War of Independence.  Which, if you've forgotten, was in 1991.

There was an element of surreality today - visiting this historic walled city which dates back many CENTURIES, but seeing damage it suffered during a war in my lifetime (my adult lifetime, even).  Our tour guide gave us some background on the war, and how she tries to teach her children not to hate Serbians; but, damn, there are still some fresh wounds here. 

Because of the holiday, most shops and restaurants were closed, and our day in the Old City of Dubrovnik (which is usually wall-to-wall people) took place in a largely empty city.  Humans were outnumbered by pigeons.  Probably by a lot.  (There is quite the pigeon population.)

(Notice the flags, alternating between the Croatian flag and that of the patron saint of Dubrovnik.)

I'm not saying "ghost town," but certainly under-populated.  Weather was nice and we got a good overview of the town. 

We also stopped at an overlook and got a really good overview of the city (and the view).

(People were looking in this general direction and saying "King's Landing!"  I do not watch "Game of Thrones," but hope I snapped the right picture.  Gorgeous either way.)

The weather is supposed to start turning on us tonight, but I managed a couple peaceful shots from the ship at sunset.  

We're actually staying overnight here and they're bringing some local entertainers onboard so's we can appreciate some traditional music and such.  (I prefer appreciating that sort of thing rather than snapping pics or video.  Something about keeping the moment ephemeral helps me connect with it in the present.)

(If you're keeping score - and some folks are - my team has won trivia twice.  A shipmate (on another team) requested a Broadway Name That Tune, even knowing my past as a critic.  She's pretty confident, but my team thinks I can take her.  I reckon we'll all get the easy ones, and it will come down to the one or two deeper cuts he tosses us.  I'm hoping for, say, something from "Boys From Syracuse."  Or "Assassins."  Seems like nobody knows "Assassins.")

Shockingly Good Weather

Not much to report.  Yesterday, we went to Messina ("Gateway to Sicily") where we had a largely forgettable walking tour and a possibly memorable cannoli.  (When in Sicily, ...)  

And today was a Sea Day as we sailed around the "boot" to head over to Croatia for a couple days. 

When I packed, the forecast was showing a good chance of it raining every day.  And while I'm pretty sure we're going to get rained out in Zadar in a couple days (and possibly in Dubrovnik tomorrow), we've had some stunningly good weather.  Not just "not rainy," but affirmatively warm and beautiful. 

The plot thickens on the jerky political dude.  We've all compared notes and it's apparent that the dude is lying to all of us about everything.  Lies about jobs, family, property ownership...  Hell, he showed someone a picture of "his" yacht, but they identified it as belonging to a particular celebrity.  Dude is still annoying and not someone I want to break bread with again, but he's also just kind of sad.

Herculaneum

(And, screw it, the upload is failing; I'll just write this from my phone.)

When we ("we" is me and a friend, who happens to be male) booked this trip (separate rooms, don't get excited), Windstar had ZERO shore excursions on offer in Naples.  So we booked with a third party, which offered an excursion to Herculaneum for less money than the ships usually charge, and promised on whatever oath they would take that they'd get us back to the ship on time. 

They picked us up at 1:00.  This was a little concerning because "all aboard" was at 4:30 and they said you could see all of Herculaneum in 3 hours, but whatever.  We reminded him of the "all aboard" at 4:30.  He made a call.  He was speaking kind of loudly in Italian and I heard the word "quattro" go by, but they seemed to have it under control.

They we drove to a hotel to pick up 2 guests.

And another to pick up 2 more.

The van was full at this point.  We'd killed a half hour and were still 15 minutes out of Herculaneum.  Color me ticked.

We finally get to the site and are meet by our actual tour guide - a fellow who was both archeologist and tour guide, who really enjoyed telling us the stories behind what we were seeing.

Short form:  See that volcano?  That's Vesuvius.  When it erupted, the dirt and stuff what came out of the volcano mixed with water near the city and covered the place with mud.  (Pompeii, being further away, was covered in ash.)  The mud preserved shit really well - we've got wooden and glass artifacts, as well as skeletons.

The tour guide then spent the tour flirting with me and my friend.  He first asked how long we'd been togethet.  When I said we were just friends, it opened the floodgates.  (When I got a question right, he celebrated by hugging me.  Twice.  Then he whispered in my ear and asked if my friend was gay.)  At the end of the trip, he asked if we were on Facebook (just us, not the other 5 passengers.)  I lied and said "no"; sorry dude.  

They got us back to the ship on time, but I feel like we were rushed - cramming three hours of tour into two hours of time.  I'm beat.  And apparently have another walking tour tomorrow.

So here's Herculaneum - where I took way too many pictures of skeletons.

Overview of city 

Persevered wooden ship 

Preserved coins and pile of melted coins 

Update on the Politics of the Ship.  I am told that the Trump dude who was super annoying last night has been on the ship for a week was actually ALMOST KICKED OFF during the prior cruise on account of saying racist stuff.  And another passenger nearly decked him on account of something he said to said
passenger's wife. 

So it doesn't seem so much to be Everyone Talking About Politics -- instead it's just one jerk, who expresses his jerkiness via his politics.  He's alienating pretty much everyone.  Let's see how this goes.

I'd proofread y'all, but I had some wine at dinner and can't keep my damn eyes open.  

Mosaic on floor of ladies' bath house

Cool wall from a private home

More of the same 

Columns painted on a wall inside a hotel dining room 

On the road (water) again

While I sit here waiting for today's photos to upload (oh, technology -- I remember when I had to get pictures DEVELOPED before I could put them in the blog, now I'm annoyed because my Wi-Fi plan is one device at a time), thought I'd take a moment to let you know how I got here.

Here, by the way, is sitting in a cruise ship just off Naples.

How I got here can best be summed up with these words of advice:  Changing planes in Heathrow - fine; changing terminals in Heathrow - best to be avoided.  For perfectly good reasons, I flew to London on United and connected to Rome on British Airways.  That requires landing in terminal 2, hiking to immigration and customs, scanning your passport (yay technology!), waiting for your bags, hauling your bags off the carousel, piling your bags on one of them carts, waiting for the lift (elevator), waiting for the lift, waiting for the fucking lift, pushing the cart down about four insanely long moving walkways until you get to the Heathrow Express station, (pushing past idiot tourists who don't understand you just press the giant button on the ticket machine for a free transfer ticket), bid a sad farewell to your cart, wait for the train, wait for the train, load onto the train (why you can't just wheel your bags on and off the train at Heathrow I'll never know), find yourself at terminal 5, reverse the whole train station process, get your ass up to the terminal and ...

OK, here's a fun fact.  If you're want to truly experience the Class System in Action, go to Terminal 5 at Heathrow.  OK, yeah, most airlines have multiple classes of service and various bonuses for loyalty card holders, including "priority" check-in lines and shit like that.  But British Air at terminal 5 takes this to whole new heights.  I had initially left something like two hours to make this transfer, but when I realized what it would entail, I ponied up a change fee to put myself on the next flight to Rome.  This gave me more like 5 hours for the transfer.  Not so bad, right?  I figured I'd just check my bag and kill a few hours at one of the restaurants in Terminal 5.

Ha ha, no.  You can't even CHECK YOUR DAMN BAG for a European flight more than 2 hours out if you're flying Economy.  I shit you not.  There's a whole bunch of folks just sitting (or snoozing) on benches outside the check-in area.  They're waiting for the bag check to open up for their flight.

(If, however, you're traveling a higher class, or have loyalty with British Airways or one of its partners, you can check your bag any time that day.)

So, here's me, with something like four hours on my hands and I have to spend two of them just sitting here waiting for my Bag Drop to open.

As it happened, I didn't have to.  I found myself a very helpful employee who (two phone calls and a bunch of computer clicking later) got me back on my original flight to Rome - for which I could immediately check in (and hope security wasn't too backed up, so I'd actually make it).

Overnighted in a Rome airport hotel.

Ride to the port.

Boarded cruise ship (Windstar's Star Legend)

More about this as it develops, but, um, y'all know how there used to be an unspoken rule about not talking politics on cruise ships and just ... you know, talking about the weather or travel or anything superficial so that you get along with the people you more-or-less can't escape for a week?  Yeah, none of that.  And it's on both sides.  It's like the liberals have just had it up to here (hand WAY over head) with putting on a facade that the Trump presidency is gonna be, you know, normal.  And the Trump folks, perceiving themselves to be victorious, feel privileged to no longer have to put on a facade that they give a fuck about the liberals' feelings.  Both sides have a "fuck all y'all" attitude.  Whether this is just because the election was so close (and Trump's cabinet appointments are trickling out) or actually going to be the new normal is anyone's guess.