Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Settling In

August 3, 1 am, The Flat
After my trip to the internet cafe, I purchased a delicious ice cream on a stick at the Margiotta (the local corner store)and ambled back to the flat. Every one was in "the Lounge" A/K/A Calvin's room. A bottle of Smirnoff was open on the table and we were all hectically trying to get each other's cell phone numbers into our new cell phones. Upon my return, Kris had found his way to us ! Thank you St. Anthony !
Calvin was lobbying for Shwarma for dinner and , eventually, he got his way. It was a little hole in the wall place and we basically drove all the locals out. I had something called "yogurt shish" - a/k/a chicken yogurt shish. We meandered to a loud pub and settled on a quiet pub - Biddy Mulligan's. Rain and I had a Red Bull and everyone else was drinking Guinness. Then we headed to a pub closer to our house. They were having a Karoake night.
As we were wandering the cobble stoned streets, it felt like we were a gang-without colors or jackets- a gang of "Show Folk". The weather here is cool, like a New England October. I am glad I thought to bring a jacket -my faithful hooded fleece.
Earlier in the day, we headed out to gather props. There were 5 of us- Brian,Andy,Calvin,Rain and me. Part way through, Brian got his bike. The phrase "like herding kittens" comes to mind. The slow walking, stopping and regrouping - it was exhausting. Necessary, but exhausting.
We got lunch, a couple of times. I got some souveniers and , by the end of the day, we had almost all our props. Earlier on, we got a giant aluminum pot for the bucket of head and I volunteered to carry it. It's a great pasta pot -it cost like 16 pounds. It was unwieldy,and sometimes I felt like I needed to explain that it was a prop and not a purse.
We went to the venue- it's in a cave. Our posters aren't up , so Calvin had us march up to the press office. Between our venue and the office, I had fallen in the street, and , once again , landed on my " good" knee . I now have a substantial bruise. So, by the time we were worming our way down the castle tower steps from the press office, I was right skittish. They were tiny stairs and winding. One wrong step and I would have been laying in a clump with a broken neck.

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