Mind the (Half) Gap goes to VIFF

2008 will be my fifth year attending the Vancouver International Film Festival. In some years, the screenings I’ve attended in the festival have been the only movies I’ve watched in a theatre all year. I don’t know why that is, but I’m not really complaining.

The films I selected to attend this year are heavily influenced by my UK/Ireland/France trip, in part to relive the experience, and maybe to say (in my head, of course!) that I was just there. Here are the films with that theme:

• The Grocer’s Son: This year, the festival’s country spotlight is on French films, and this has been one of the big hits coming out of France this year.
• Happy-Go-Lucky: Personalities and teaching styles clash in this Mike Leigh film set in North London.
• Hunger: Re-creation of the last days of IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands (a mural of whom I snapped while in Belfast).
• Sleep Furiously: a mid-Welsh farming community, indicative of a simpler time before mass farming and mechanization, is examined in this doc.
• Stone of Destiny: The story of how four Scottish students took the title rock from Westminster back to Scotland.
• Suivre Catherine: Montreal-based director Jeanne Crépeau follows a French filmmaker called Catherine to Paris (hence the title), where Crépeau essentially lives for a year and documents the experience.

Seeing these films may not match the true feeling of having been there, but I’m sure it will be a fun experience regardless.

The obligatory wrap post.

Forget the jet lag and the reality I had to face when I came back. I have to say, unequivocally and with oh-so-great conviction, that this trip was the best experience I’ve ever had. There were no real disappointments to speak of, and you will have a hard time getting me to pick my most favourite place I visited.

And it wasn’t just the places per se; it was the fact that I was in Edinburgh during festival season; I dipped my toes in Atlantic waters; I’ve been inside buildings far older than anything in Canada or the USA. It was that I immersed myself in the local culture, and got an appreciation for how people lived an ocean away.

How about the people I’ve met along the way? From the proprietors of the places I’ve stayed, to the travellers from all over the world with whom I’ve shared rooms or generally just chatted, and especially my Contiki tourmates who made London and Paris that much more fun to explore: it goes to show that a smile and a “hiya” can go a long way.

And me personally? I know this trip has changed me, possibly in small ways that even I don’t recognize, or will recognize over time. I do believe that I should must continue to take trips like this. Life is just too short to see the world, and I truly intend to see as much as I can as the opportunities arise.

Trip pictures!

(My banner picture has now been updated, to reflect the inspiration for this blog’s title…)

It’s taken a bit of time (thanks jet lag + cold!), not to mention plowing through almost 2000 pictures that remained in my camera’s SD cards (through some fancy math I calculated I actually took about 2400, but deleted the rubbish ones not worth keeping), but the best pictures from my trip are uploaded to my flickr.

When you click the link, you’ll find five sets (albums). Within each set, you can click on individual pictures to see a full version, or click “Slideshow” on the top right to see all the photos… just as the name says.

I believe only flickr members can comment directly on the pictures, but if you don’t want to be bothered to sign up, leave comments here, or to my personal e-mail.

BTW, this post is temporarily “stickied” to the top of the blog. Scroll down for some newer posts…

Jet lag is no fun

It’s now been three days since I’ve returned, and the transition back to Vancouver time hasn’t been much fun. I woke up at 3:00am on Sunday, after about five hours of sleep, and tried to get back to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning all the way to 6:00, when it was no use. I’ve also been waking up at 6:00 the next two mornings. And I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night, disoriented and unsure where I am. Is jet lag supposed to be like this? It has not helped that I’ve caught someone’s cold on the 10-hour flight back. Luckily it was at the end of the trip, instead of somewhere in the middle.

Day 38: Notes from the plane

I was starting to type this as my plane flew over Greenland; I had been napping when a spot of turbulence woke me up. The windows were down, as Ironman was being screened, but the row ahead of me had its windows up. I opened them in time to see some fantastic glaciers.

Over the last few days, I’ve been asked if I’m excited to go home. I’m ambiguous, like I always am: it would be nice to be home again, in familiar surroundings. On the other hand, I’ve been bitten by the travel bug; some people on my tour have booked two-day extensions to Rome or Amsterdam, and hearing our tour manager go through the major sights of those places with everyone, it did make me think I should just throw away my flight home and keep going.

This tour of London and Paris was quite the whirlwind; while regimented, with plenty of early wake-up calls and late nights, it did offer plenty of free time to explore the cities. Here’s the rundown (forgive the length, but keep in mind I had a lot of time to kill on the plane):

• Day 31: the tour began in the evening, with a meet-and-greet over registration and dinner, then a walk from our hotel to the Covent Garden area. This was a Saturday night, so it was quite lively. A few of us moved on to another pub in the area and were surprised last call was before 11:00pm! There were other places that did stay open later, but we probably didn’t get over that.

• Day 32: a day trip to Stonehenge and Bath. Stonehenge did indeed have that air of mystery around it; a slight fog enveloping the surrounding countryside just added to the effect. Bath had the Roman baths and unique Georgian architecture, some of which served as a backdrop for Jane Austen’s novels. This meant I had to visit the Jane Austen Centre; I thought it was slightly overpriced for a brief talk on Austen’s connections with Bath and a selection of costumes worn for the BBC production Miss Austen Regrets (my review).

In the evening we returned to London and I joined another group for dinner; the six of us more or less bonded for the duration of the tour, as did any number of sub-groups arranged by age and/or nationality. In my case, it was a group of five Canadians and an American in our late 20s/early 30s.

After dinner, we decided to walk to Westminster; there was the clock tower in all its lit-up glory, and the London Eye. I had passed by the Parliament buildings the day before, but it has to be seen at night.

• Day 33: a free day in London: as the last day there, time was of the essence, so I went to take a ride in the Eye, then the Tower of London (I recommend the guided tour), and Harrods. The evening was capped off with The Sound of Music in the West End. Given I had never seen the film, I was personally surprised at how much I enjoyed it, if not for the performances (which I initially suspected as lip-synced), but for the second half, and the historical aspects (Anschluss) that served as background.

• Day 34: the transit day from London to Paris. The ferry ride was certainly a lot better than that from Ireland to Wales. Indeed, the whole week of the tour was the best, weather-wise. We paused at the Vimy Ridge memorial (a piece of Canada in France, we were told). I was taken aback at the sereneness of the whole thing, and I am more appreciative of those sacrifices those young soldiers made at that spot in 1917. Once in Paris, the whole group went back to the coach for a night-time tour of the city. It’s not called the “city of lights” for nothing.

• Day 35: daytrip to Versailles. We roamed the gardens before we went inside for a tour of the state apartments. King Louis XIV certainly went OTT in the construction of the whole palace, and it shows in the meticulous grooming of the grounds, to the sheer grandness of all the rooms. We returned to Paris, and were dropped off at the Arc de Triomphe. After a long walk along the Champs-Élysées to the Louvre and on to Notre-Dame, most of us went to the Moulin Rouge.

• Day 36: another crazy day of sightseeing. Given that two in our group would be leaving the next day, a lot had to be packed in. The Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, l’Orangerie (home to large-format Monet’s Waterlilies), Napoleon’s tomb, the Rodin museum, and the obvious one, the Tour d’Eiffel. The whole group gathered at sundown and proceeded to the lifts. Just being near the thing was breathtaking, but going all the way up to the top has to qualify as a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But two hours later, everyone went to the Champ-de-Mars to see the tower sparkle and shine, all while toasting the end of the tour with champagne. That was an unforgettable night.

• Day 37: as the tour officially ends and everyone says their goodbyes, I go with my roommate to Cimitière du Père-Lachaise to see Jim Morrison’s grave; he is a Doors fan, while Jim and I share the same birthday. We overheard someone say it was in a worse state, what with whisky bottles strewn all over, including adjacent gravesites. What we saw was quite tame in comparison; you wouldn’t even have known it was Jim Morrison’s grave if it weren’t for the continuing stream of people. Oscar Wilde’s marker, however, is another matter. Despite signs pleading not to deface the stone, it’s in a right state, with the requisite lipstick marks. I then went through to walk through Montmartre before returning to the Louvre to visit the emptier second floor. I had seen the Mona Lisa the previous day, and it was madness. You would think it would be housed in its own room, but it’s the centerpiece of a large hall filled with other spectacular paintings on the edges that are all but ignored by the hordes.

• Day 38: I had been concerned over the past few days about Eurostar’s continuing limited service in the Channel Tunnel, thanks to a fire a few days previous. Luckily, I managed to board and made it to London in two and a half hours. A long wait at Gatwick, and another 10 hours in the air, and I arrived in Vancouver, more or less awake for almost 24 hours.

Despite the long days, the sore feet, and sometimes sub-standard eating habits (not to mention the near-daily consumption of at least one alcoholic beverage), I enjoyed myself immensely. If anything, it proves I can still do this on my own, and that it’s something I would like to incorporate into my schedule, even if I have to pool all my vacation days to do it.

Expect best-of pictures on my flickr within the next few days (imagine uploading at least 2500 pictures!), and I am preparing a slideshow that incorporates those photos.

Day 33: Bye to London

I haven’t realized how regimented the tour timetable is, which is why I barely have time to write this post before heading to pack, then sleep. In the morning (very early!), our tour group travels to Paris.

I think I’ve gotten the most of London in the limited time I’ve been here. Obviously I couldn’t get to everything, but I did get the basics: the Underground, Doctor Who exhibition (miles ahead of Cardiff’s), Parliament and Big Ben, the Eye, the Tower, Harrods, and a West End musical (Sound of Music, if you must ask). There was even a daytrip to Stonehenge and Bath. All in all, an action-packed few days, just like the previous 29.

That’s it for now. I have a free day in Paris when the tour officially ends. Hopefully I can tell you how that went. I’m just realizing now that I’m down to the final five four days (day 38 will be travel hell, I’m sure).

Day 29: The lone wanderer

Roald Dahl Plass and Wales Millennium Centre, taken on Thursday night. I came back to Cardiff Bay in the evening to see how it looks at night. In the time I was there, it wasn’t lit very well; the folks at Torchwood and Doctor Who probably had to flood the place with lights when they do night shoots. There was actually a Doctor Who exhibition nearby, but I was underwhelmed, sad to say. I’ll try and squeeze in the London exhibition when I get there, see if that’s any better.

I think I’m finally experiencing the loneliness of travelling by myself. I’m becoming self-conscious of eating or drinking alone, especially if the place is full of people. At home, I wouldn’t let that faze me, but now, it’s gnawing at me. I guess I’m not experiencing the camaraderie of talking to other people (sleeping by myself in a room doesn’t help), but I did feel it particularly when a dorm-mate was dressed up to go out. Anyone who knows me should know that I can take a long time to get to know, and it’s harder on the road, when you meet people one city at a time, maybe for a night or two.

Hopefully it changes on Saturday, when I start my Contiki tour of London and Paris. I’ll be with the same people for a week. By the end of this, I could be sick of seeing them and/or end up with some lifelong friendships, if the Contiki literature is to be believed. We’ll soon see…

Next: I don’t know? I’ve been conscientious to seek out places with wifi, but I’m not so sure about the hotels Contiki is putting us in; I can’t find anything in their forums yet. I shall try to update, however brief, of my first impressions of London.

Day 28: Tired

I’m in Cardiff now; I’ll look for Torchwood Three when I spend Thursday around Cardiff Bay. But getting here was more annoying than usual. I eschewed an earlier departure from Aberystwyth (wherein I would have changed from bus to train at some point) in favour of a single bus all the way to Cardiff. Unfortunately, I had to be on that bus for four and a half hours, with little chance for a stretch break. I ended that trip stiff and in need of a massage. That was two long bus rides in three days. I might take the train to London this time.

What I hadn’t counted on when I set up my itinerary is the fact I have to get from place to place, and in some cases (Glasgow to Skye, for one), the journey took up the whole day. And there’s the cost of it all: even though I scored discounts (like a €12 train from Westport to Dublin bought online when a walk-on fare could be three times that), it all adds up in the end.

Maybe I was a bit ambitious trying to squeeze in as many places to go. But I’m rationalizing it with the fact that I may never visit these places again, and it might be a while before I have this much time to travel anyway, so the fatigue is a necessary evil.

UPDATE: I’ve booked my Eurostar train from Paris to London. I was all ready to book a one-way fare for USD 190, but I’m still getting cold feet. Enter Seat 61’s guide to Eurostar. I had to clear my cookies (a necessary chore anyway) and come back to the Eurostar site and pretend I was a UK resident (or some other country that’s not necessarily your own – Seat 61 recommended Spain, but I got a higher converted price). Long story short, I booked my train to London, but I needed to add a return trip (Seat 61 claims that even Eurostar recommends this for one-way passengers). I can print off both tickets at Paris’ Gare du Nord and the return becomes a souvenir that just isn’t used. The total of £86 is still better than USD 190.

A couple of contrasting pictures from around Aberystwyth, on the mid-Welsh coast. The second one involves a local legend about how, in medieval times, a crossing was constructed near the base of a waterfall.

Day 26: AWOL in Wales

The last few days, while I have been doing the usual things (walking around aimlessly ending with a beer at a pub), are what I would call the introspective time of the trip. It seems to coincide with the nights I have been sleeping in a room to myself.

Why? The previous Friday, I had been ready to get set for my ferry ride from Dublin to Holyhead, in northwest Wales, when I discovered that the sailing had been cancelled because the weather (which was unusually pleasant, ie. not raining) became a stormy mess overnight, and I was too late for an alternate until the following morning. This meant booking another night in Dublin, but I had just missed out on extending my stay at the hostel by five minutes. Since it was still pissing rain outside, and I’m too lazy to venture out and find a new hostel, I just booked a room at the adjacent B&B, but at €80 for one night, it was more than what I paid for the previous three nights at the hostel (€72). Needless to say, I was choked the rest of the day, and could only manage to walk a few blocks in a full downpour, huddle in a bookstore for a bit, then come back. You should see the crowd at the doors of the bookstore: the rain still coming down, everyone hanging back, praying that it eases up just slightly.

At least I managed to snag some cheap airfare back to Vancouver; it’s a direct flight from London, but only after booking that did I realize I would have to get back there from Paris. Some creative googling later, and I’ve come to the realization that a Eurostar train from Paris to London, then another train direct to the airport, would be the most painless way to ensure a timely arrival for check-in. However, the Eurostar train would set me back $200, and it’s liable to change (ie. go up) anytime. I’m booking that as soon as I finish this post.

For some reason, I found (or will find) myself staying on all three Welsh coasts: Llandudno on the north, Aberystwyth on the west, and Cardiff on the south. I wanted to try to make it to Hay-on-Wye, the supposed haven of second-hand booksellers, but it’s so out of the way you’d have to go through England if you want to get there. Llandudno and Aberystwyth are both pleasant seaside towns, the latter slightly geared more toward students, thanks to a university campus. I had booked a hostel dorm in Llandudno, but I ended up being the only one sleeping in that room (summer’s obviously over), and in Aberystwyth, I just walked around looking for accommodation with internet access, so I found a B&B with a single room (actually two beds, but the owner gave it to me for the single rate).

(Sorry, no pictures this time… Something’s not working to upload my files.)

Next: looking for Torchwood Three…

Day 22: Guinness IS good for you

This is my last night in Dublin, and Ireland, and I’m sad that I didn’t get a chance to see more of this great country! To say that Ireland loves “the black stuff” would be an understatement, and I would know: on some days, I’m sure I’ve consumed more Guinness than water! And of course, no trip to Dublin would be complete without a visit pilgrimage to the Guinness Storehouse at St James Gate. It may be overpriced at €15, but you do get a pint of product at the very end: the Gravity Bar, which has 360° views of the Dublin skyline. In my case, I didn’t wait until then, because in the floor below, you get the opportunity to pull your own pint, and I have the certificate to prove it:

While at the tour, I met another Canadian who saw my flag patch on my backpack. After talking to six in the first three weeks, I talk to six in a 24-hour period! Two of them were this couple from Ontario, both 70. One of them actually expressed a craving for Tim Hortons, and I told him that it’s available in Ireland. Hopefully he gets a chance for the Canadian black stuff (before the double-double) before he goes. The picture below is of the Tim Ho sandwich board I shot in Belfast:

OK, as promised, some photos that I think are interesting during the Irish portion of the trip. About an hour’s bus ride from Belfast is Armagh, which has archbishoprics for both the Catholic Church and the Church of Ireland (Anglican). I went to the Anglican cathedral first, and while amazing in itself, I became awestruck going inside the Catholic cathedral. Take a look for yourselves, but the cathedrals are better appreciated in person.

The Tour of Ireland cycling race passed through Westport. This is a shot of the peloton, or the main group chasing the leaders.

And this is painted on most of Dublin’s crosswalks. I’m slowly starting to get it, to the point where I can cross with the locals (who just ignore the walk/don’t walk signage), much to the amazement of the map-holding tourists patiently waiting for the signal to change.

Next: the Welsh experience…