Onto Edinbourgh and the Festival Fringe

We are now in Edinbourgh and the Festival Fringe. The Fringe started as a modest festival in 1947, with eight different venues. Or maybe it was just eight performances. Now there are hundreds of venues and over 3000 different performances. What was originally the Fringe of the International Festival, has over time become the main event. I was here in 1970, between my two years of college in Paris. I came by myself. I don't remember much of it at all, except that I stayed at a b&b with a couple. The man was a butcher. The breakfasts were large and featured a lot of meat. I thought at the time it was due to his being a butcher. But in retrospect it was a typical Scottish breakfast, similar to the ones on this trip. It seems like a dream, or a different lifetime. 

  Yesterday we watched one of the many street performers, a man who played on five gallon plastic bins, as well as on damaged cybals, and "his mother's pots." He went around the audience playing on fences and various things in the environment. I held out my walking poles and he played on those. It reminded me of the only performance I remember from my visit here 55 years ago. That was a group called Stomp. I have never figured out if it is the same group that has become famous and played around the world. I thought it must be, but never saw a reference to the Fringe on their info. I'll have to check again with better resources now. I told the drummer. He was American but apparently travels the world making his living as a street performer. All the street performers made the same speech, saying this is their job and livelihood, and asking for donations if you liked the performance. They suggest 5 lbs, 10 if you are a family, and that they'd appreciate 20. We gave each one we saw 10. I asked the drummer where in the States he was from. He grew up in Queens. I told him that I grew up in the Bronx. 

We saw a number of street performers over the days. There were singers, jugglers, fire eaters, other kinds of performers. I would guess most of them were from Britain, but can't say for sure. The first one we saw was an overweight man with a huge belly. He was very funny, Loring's favorite and maybe mine too. He had quite the repartee.  He, and all the performers, recruited "volunteers" from the audience. He started with asking a man to hold the end of a rope stretched tight. He eventually got up to 8 men and it still wasn't clear if he was going to balance or do anything on it.  Then he stripped down to a thong, making some lewd jokes while he sat on the rope. The Scottish sense of what is family friendly is obviously a little more lenient than ours. He also had a tennis racket, without strings, around his neck.  Eventually he did balance on the rope, and finally pulled the racket down over his shoulders, torso, and legs, stepping out of it while still on the rope. It was impressive but the best part was his ongoing gags throughout the show.  My other favorite was the last one we saw, yesterday. She was just setting up as we arrived. Her name was Steph. Not sure where she was from. There were several facets to her act. She had two members of the audience put her in a straightjacket and chains, and escaped within two minutes. She also had a puppet, and was a  ventriloquest. She put masks on the same two volunteers, and then, throwing her voice again, had them sing and act silly, pumping the mouths on the masks open and closed with hoses attached to the masks.  I had never seen a ventriloquist do anything like that. It was very clever and funny. 

In all, we went to about ten paid performances over the five days. it's difficult to choose because there are a zillion choices. Twice we went to shows based on someone at home's recommendation, and both were terrific. We first saw a one woman show called the Golden Hour. That was recommended by a friend of our friend Yvonne, who was in Edinbourgh and had seen it. Before the show a woman asked me how we'd heard about it, and I told her it was via a friend at home who'd heard about it from a friend at the Festival. She was impressed that word of mouth had traveled so far. Turns out it was the performer herself, not an usher as I'd thought. She was just great. It was about an educational theory in Scotland to detract free "golden"  time from kids who had misbehaved or not done well, at the end of each week. It's an actual theory, created by a woman who discussed it on a video that was part of the show. The actor had experienced it herself in school,as had many in the audience. She had very briefly been a teaching assistant who sympathized with a kid who was kind of an outsider. She got fired after a short time at the school, and now works bringing  different programs for children to schools(and doing a one person show, at least at the Fringe, and hopefully at other times as well. ) 

The other recommended show was also one-woman show, recommended by our sister-in-law Jill, who has heard the performer on a podcast they listen to. Her name is Ria Lina. She is a British actor of Filipino heritage, who has an American accent. (she lived in the US for some time.) She has written and performed several shows, this being the latest one. She talked about many things, including her heritage as an Asian woman, her marriage, children, and divorce. and the fact that she and her ex husband still live together, and how that works. 

The other shows I picked mostly by reading descriptions and reviews. The first night, when we had just arrived, we went to a cabaret. We came in a bit late and took the last two seats. They had stopped collecting money.  It was basically a burlesque show, hosted by a man who was not very funny. There were about five acts. All except one were drag queens who stripped down to tassels and not much else. The other was a thin young woman. One thing - I assumed they were all men, they were all pretty large and had masculine looking faces. But, they all had female breasts!  Loring thought they were all women, because of that.  I was puzzled; they looked pretty real, maybe had had top surgery to get them?  I definitely do not understand the intricacies of drag. And in retrospect,  the one attractive young  woman may actually have been a man or trans man or non binary per w2son.  In any case, we both thought the show was dreadful!  Luckily, we hadn't paid anything for it.

It fascinates me how crucial it is in our society to identify people by gender, from the time a baby is born. We don't even have gender free language to use. Maybe the use of the word "they" as a singular form will eventually take hold in the general population but I doubt I will ever get comfortable  using it. I wish there could be another new pronoun that didn't sound weird to  older ears like mine. 

For the other shows, I leaned toward choosing musicals. The first we chose was  play, called How to Win Against History,  based on a true story of a marquis in the 19th century who was gay, and chose to live his own life. The acting was great and the direction tight, with not a false moment. I have to look into the true story. 

Then, another musical called Jaffa Cakes. I'd read a review from earlier in the festival. There are many many people reviewing various shows, newspaper reviewers from Scotland and abroad, and various individuals. You can only take one reviewer's opinions so far, since so much is a matter of individual taste.  Speaking of taste, Jaffa Cakes was great. It is also based on a true story, a court case in the 1990's to determine if the popular Jaffa Cakes are a cake or a biscuit. A biscuit in Britain is what we call a cookie. The case mattered because biscuits are taxed and cakes are not. It's complicated. The show was very clever, with five actors playing multiple parts. People we talked to were surprised that we Americans weren't familiar with Jaffa Cakes. Apparently everyone in Scotland, and probably all of Great Britain, grows up with them. Of course, on the way back from the play to our apartment we had to stop to buy a package of Jaffa Cakes. I quite like them, Loring not so much. They have a slightly spongy base, an orange flavored center, and a chocolate top. I ate most of the package but still have a few in my backpack. They may not make it back to the US. 

The show called Luigi caught my attention for two reasons: it had sold out audiences in SF, where it originated, and because the subject was three criminals who all had been in the same prison together, Diddy, Sam Bankman Fried, whose mother I'd gone to high school with, and Luigi Mangione, who shot and killed the health care CEO on the street in Manhattan. The play was controversial because some thought it gloried Luigi, the main subject of the play. The actors were four comedians who'd written the show together. They denied that they'd glorified him, ony wanted people to think about the fact that so many have. In any case, the show, in both of our opinions, was  terrible. Too bad, because the concept was fascinating. But the script, and the acting too, was sophomoric.  

We attended one show that was not part of the Fringe, but part of the original International Festival, which over the years has been superceded by the Fringe. That play is called Faustus in Africa. It's not a new play, it's over 30 years old, created and performed by the Handspring Puppet Theatre of South Africa. It had been highly reviewed. I had seen, over a decade ago, their much heralded play WarHorse, also performed by large puppets, at Lincoln Center in New York. This show was at the Lyceum Theater, a beautiful large theatre a little outside of the central Fringe, but still in walking distance from our apartment. The tickets were much more expensive than the Fringe shows, which are all an hour an all cost about $20. They were also hard to get. I got what I believe was the very last ticket for the last performance, before we left home. Our hope was that more tickets would be available close to the day of the performance. And indeed, a few were, including, amazingly, the one next to mine! So we were both able to go. Unfortunately, both of us were kind of bored by the play, and we both dozed off. The puppets themselves are very impressive, and it's wonderful to watch them with the puppeteers in view. But the play was very dry, we both thought. And the theatre was very warm, which didn't help. All the venues were too warm, and none have air conditioning. Scotland is almost never this warm, and so they aren't prepared for the heat. It was beautiful weather all the time we were there, but everyone local commented on how unusual it was. 

The Fringe venues vary in size and are in all kinds of spots. Some hold only about thirty, others are much larger. For many, you have to go through a bar or restaurant and up a flight or stairs, or several. The shows are booked back to back so one audience has to exit for the next to enter, only about 10 minutes before the show. And the actors break down the sets themselves, immediately after they take their bows. 

Yesterday morning was the only day we saw three shows. We are sure that many people do much more, but this worked out well for us. In between shows, we walked around, ate at retaurants or grabbed a pasty or croissant on the street, went home and took a nap, etc. 

  We started the day yesterday before noon with Truman, a one-man show depicting Truman Capote. The actor was great. A few days earlier someone had approached me at one of the beer gardens with a flyer for the show. I told him we already had tickets. I'm not sure he believed me. He said, "Oh ya do, do ya." In retrospect I think it was the actor himself. It was a small older man, unlike the majority of the flyer hander outers who are young. In any case, the actor was great. He greatly portrayed what I remember of Capote. I also am sure that I understood a lot of the references that nobody else in the audience did, like the Black and White Ball he created in New York in the 60s. (He did explain the references.)  It was the combination of the New York setting and the time period, which much of the audience didn't live through. But many seemed to know at least who he was. 

A couple of hours later, after a walk around town, we attended the 360 All Stars, in a large stadium-like theatre, the largest venue we'd attended other than to see Faustus at the Lyceum. It was a hip hop performance, consisting of two djs, one a drummer and the other a keyboardist, each up on a platform above the stage.  They were both very good.  The woman was terrific.  She came down from the platform at a couple of points to rap and dance with the others. think she was from the US. The drummer was the creator and was, I believe, Scottish. 

The other performers were four men, the all star champions of various competiions, each with his own specialty. They each performed individually and then together. One was a bicyclist, one did a hoop performance that was mesmerizing and graceful, one was a basketball artist who did various things including juggling, with four of them. And one was a floor dancer, who was from New York. The others were from different countries, one I think from the Netherlands, one from Hungary, and I believe one was Scottish. We found out afterwards there had been a fifth performer who had been injured in an earlier show. The rest of them had to rechoreograph and rehearse it to perform without him.The audience for this show was quite different from the others we attended, large and with many kids attending.. 

Our last show, yesterday night, was called Falling in Love with Mr. Dellormand. It was another I'd read positive reviews of. It was a campy musical with five performers. We'd gotten over our hesitation about sitting in the front row, which I'd still not do in a comedy or interractive show. In the small theatre, we were incredibly close to the actors. I don't think I 've ever sat nearly that close to performers. The show was described as a gothic musical. It was five actors, Mr. Dellormond being the owner of an isolated inn who invites the others to a party. The premise is that no one can help falling in love with Mr. Dellormond. It turns out that he is the Angel of Death, who kills all his victims with a kiss. The whole thing is very silly and campy, and all the characters are totally overdrawn. And they are all very good singers. One additional thing, the musical accompaniment is by a musician playing a theremin. an unusual instrument that is played without touching it. It has an appropriately eerie sound, and is played with gestures above it, which melds wonderfully with the rest of the performance. 

The Festival was a great experience, despite the streets being crowded wherever we went. We knew they would be, and that's just a part of the event. And although the restaurants were also crowded, we never had a real problem finding a place, usually outdoors, where we wanted to be. There were a few times in the evening that places said they were finished serving food when we got there at about eight pm. which surprised us at a time when the streets were still crowded.  But we always found someplace we liked after a couple of tries. We tried to eat Scottish foods as much as possible. My favorite may have been Cullen Skink, a soup with smoked haddock, potatoes, leeks, and cream. Richer than I'd eat at home, but I'm going to try to make a less rich version. Loring liked the baked meat pies, and had bangers and mash, traditional sausage and mashed potatoes.  Many restaurants had delicous sides of vegetables of various sides. A couple of nights we just did that, for a tapas-like meal. We both tried the traditional haggis, which seems to be on every menu. It tastes ok but I couldn't get over the fact that it's all innards ground up, although if I didn't know it I am sure I would have liked it. They do make a vegetarian version with lentils, but we didn't try it. We tried fish and chips, because it seemed we ought to, not expecting much. But it was delicious, with a light batter resembling tempura. If we were there longer, I would have had it again. We didn't have black pudding or sausage, which is made from blood. Although I had had it many years ago and thought it was delicious when I didn't know what it was. 

Last night we had our last meal at an outdoor cafe in the same square we'd eaten mussels at a different restaurant a few nights before. When we sat down we found out that the kitchen was closing but if we ordered right away they could do it. And they did. I had a fish stew that was described as Irish, but was similar to the traditional Scottish soup I'd had before. The couple next to us, who were Scottish, started talking to us and we chatted for quite a while. I'm not sure where they lived but they were camping in a tent outside  town, for a week, and taking a bus in each day. They were very friendly, and we could understand much of what they said! Some people have accents so thick that it isn't easy for us to understand. 

We're now on the plane home, about halfway there, and I think I've come to the end of this saga. Hopefully nothing eventful will happen before we get there. 

It's been a great trip, to all three locations. And even if we didn't get to see much of the countryside without driving, I am perfectly happy to have visited the town of Pitclochry and the two cities. I expect many of the other locations, like Loch Ness and Loch Lomond, and the Harry Potter and Outlander locations, are touristed more than we prefer. 

So I'll end here unless anything worth reporting on happens in the next couple of hours. It will be about 2pm when we arrive home, but 7pm on Scotland time. 

I hope you've enjoyed reading this. I write primarily for my own benefit. It's amazing how much I forget without rereading about it myself! But I am always happy when I know that others have read and enjoyed reading about our travelling adventures.

Next chapter, Glascow continued

Sitting on our delightful balcony at the Native Glascow. Native is apparently a large organization with many properties in Greatl Britain.  Ours is a former shipping building, of the Anchor Company, that was converted to a hotel at some point. It's in a great central location, and the apartment is wonderful. 

This will be our fourth of five nights here. Each day we've chosen one or a couple of destinations. The first day we visited the Hunterian Museum. All kinds of art plus the recreated MacIntosh house. The museum itself is free, but the Macintosh House, though connected, has a 10 lb. fee, We decided to save that for another day, and plan to go there tomorrow. It must be privately funded, whereas the museum is part of the national museums. MacIntosh was an architect and artist who has been described as the Scottish Frank Lloyd Wright. There is defintinitely a similarity in their aesthetics. Lots of architectural angles, stained glass, although I doubt MacIntosh, or even Scots in general would be pleased to have him compared that way. His wife, Margaret MacDonald, was also an artist and architect, and they often worked together. But it seems that she doesn't get quite the recognition that he does. Sound familiar? 

I'll know more, and write more about them in a subsequent post. 

 The museums are on the campus of Glasgow University, and it was interesting to wander through the campus on our walk.  Graduation must be later in the year here than at home, because there were several people in gowns posing for pictures, and  I saw ads for graduation parties at the restaurant downstairs here at our hotel.

Today we visited the Tenement Museum. Fascinating. It is the preserved residence of Agnes Toward, a  woman who lived there in the early 20th century, first with her mother, and then on her own after her mother's death, until 1965. She lived another 10 years, hosptitalized, until her death in the 1970s.  She bequeathed two chairs to a friend from her church. The house remained unoccupied until the 1980s, when it was scheduled to be demolished. The 

Moving on on our Scottish sojourn

We are now in Edinbourgh, the last stop on our Scottish sojourn. When people ask me if I've been here before, I answer with a qualified yes. I have been, but it was 55 years ago, then, like now, for the Fringe. My answer is qualified because it hardly seems real, my memory of being here. If feels more like a dream or something from another lifetime. Which in a way, I guess it is. The Fringe began as an adjunct to the International Festival. But over time it has evolved into a much larger event, and the original International festival now sits in its shadow. There are thousands of events, some for the entire three plus weeks of the Fringe, some just for a single performance or several. And anyone who wants to perform can, if they can find a venue. I will write much more about the Fringe, but first let me take you back to Glasgow, where we spent the previous five days after our first stop in Pitlcochry. I oringally had the idea to stay in Glasgow, rather than Edinbourgh, because the lodging here is so expensive during the festival. And it's only a 45 minute train ride. As it turns out the accomodations in Glasgow, at least the ones we found, were as expensive as here in Edinbourgh. But I am glad we went there, and now are staying here. Both have been wonderful experiences. Our Glasgow stay was at the Native, which is part of a group of accommodations across Great Britain. I am not sure if they are all in restored buildings but ours was, in what was the old Headquarters of the Anchor Shipping Company. Not much remains of the original interior of the building, save for a beautiful fireplace in one of the first floor rooms, and the original safe in one of the others. And our room, one of the penthouse suites, was actually built upon the top of the original building only eight years ago. We had a corner room with large windows, and a balcony, with a great view of the city. It seems that there are numerous buildings where modern additions have been built atop Victorian era buildings. Our location was very central, something we had looked for when choosing accomodations. We didn't rent a car, so wanted to be near sites of interest and also walking distance from the train stations, in which we succeeded quite well in both Glasgow and here in Edinbourgh. The architecture in Glasgow is quite varied, even in the center of the city. It's a mix of many Victorian buildings, some maintained or renovated, some derelict. Mixed with modern construction of different decades. In many places the contrast of new and old side by side is striking. A man stopped by us as I was taking a picture of an ancient looking steeple and a tall crane. I think he originally thought we might need directions but then shared his own enthusiasm for architecture. He was from Glasgow but no longer lived there, and said he appreciate the architecture much more now. He gave us a few areas and squares to check out. We visited several museums in Glasgow, including two on the campus of the University, One was the Hunterian, named for its founder, Mr. Hunter. The other was Kelvingrove. In the same building as the Huntarian was a recreation of the Glasgow apartment of famed architect and artist Charles Rennie MacIntosh, Glasgow's pride. The space is recreated because the University tore down the original building some years ago to make room for new iveconstruction. So the interior is all the work and furnishings of MacIntosh and his wife, Margaret MacDonald. She was an artist in her own right and they worked together. But she, as seems often the case is given shorter shrift in the annals of art history. An interesting fact, Macintosh and his friend Frasier (I think) married two sisters, Margaret and Frances MacDonald, all of whom were artists and did some work together. I wonder how common it was at the time for women to keep their unmarried names. The most famous work at the Kelvingrove is the Dali portrait of Christ on the cross. It is certainly different from any depiction of Christ you've ever seen, as one might expect of Dali. The view is from above, looking down at Christ. It was controversal at first, seen by some as sacreligious. Don't know if anyone feels that way anymore. I liked it, it felt like Christ was being lifted from above, rather than being martyred. There is an organ recital every afternoon at the Kelvingrove which we stayed for. It was great to watch the organist, as well as video images of his feet and foot pedals, and close up of the multiple keyboards and knobs. I loved the combination of the folks like us sitting and listening, with people coming and going through the museum lobby. A few small kids responded to the music as they walked. Most especially were two young girls, probably sisters, dancing delighting, and followed by whom I assume was their mother, dancing too, although a bit more sedately than the children. Most interesting to me was the Tenement Museum. Although there is a museum with the same name in New York, this is a little different. First of all, tenement doesn't have the negative connotation here in Scotland, but just refers to an apartment building. The New York Museum is one of my favorites, and I think this one in Glasgow is now another. It is a preserved dwelling rather than a recreated one. The woman who lived here for many years, Agnes Forward, lived here first with her mother, after her father and sisters had all died when she was young. After her mother's death she continued to live in the apartment until elderly, when she became sick and spend her last 10 years in a hospital. She had lived there from the late nineteenth century until 1965. She preserved nearly everything, from theatre tickets to tins of mustard. So the home is an apartment frozen in time with much documentation of her life and the times. Tour guides are young volunteers who point out things like the jam jar with literally preserved preserves. Ms. Forward only brought in electricy near the end of her life, in 1960. She could have afforded it, but thought it wasn't necessary. So the house is illluminated with actual gas lights and facsimiles of gas lighting. The house was slated to be torn down, but a woman, whose uncle had been gifted two of Agnes' chairs, saw the apartment when she and her uncle went to retrieve the chairs. She subsequently bought the apartment and lived there for several years herself, protecting its contents, before turning it over to a trust to preserve it as the museum it is today. The home had a full bedroom as well as two closet beds, which were common at the time, built into niches in the wall. Apparently, Forward and her mother slept in the same closet bed and rented out the bedroom to a lodger. I didn't read how Forward supported herself in the years after her mother's death The mother had been a seamstress. But she seemed to live comfortably, attending theatre performances and traveling. My grandmother was also a seamstress after my grandfather died young, and in virtually the same time period. The museum occupies the first two floors of the building. The last two floors were marked private. I first assumed they were offices. Actually, they are privately owned and lived in. I supposed they are a bit more modern than Ms. Forward's preserved apartment. There is a Gaudi designed apartment building in Barcelona that is also a house museum but also retains a private apartment, under slightly different circumstances. There, heirs of the original owners were allowed to live there until no heir was left or wanted to. I wrote about it a couple of years ago. Imagine living in a building that is also a museum. One more museum, that we visited on our last day, was the modern art museum. It was actually just around the corner from our apartment, but I had somehow missed it in my scouting out. I think that was because there was another art museum that was temporarily closed.The museum's elevator was out of order, which they emphasized on their website as well as at the door. I'd been doing quite well with my hiking poles, better than I'd expected, so took on the challenge Glad I did.

Scotland chapter two

I am nearly finished reading the first Outlander book, hence my thinking in chapters.  We watched several episodes at home and liked it, and I then picked up in the book where we'd left off in the show. I have mixed feelings, will have to see if I want to continue with either the books or the show. It's a little too romantized for me, but I love the details of 18th century life.  

We are now ensconsed in our Glasgow penthouse, this is our third day here. The apartment is great, with a few annoying quirks.  One, you can't open the fridge if the door to the living room/kitchen is open, which is more frustrating than it might sound. But in general the space is wonderful. We have a balcony with a great view of the city. And plenty of room to relax. The building was originally headquarters of the Anchor Shipping Line, and much of the artwork is related to that. Apparently many or most of the rooms have vestiges of the original building. But the penthouse level was built on top of the original building. I plan to ask the reception if we can look into one of the apartments after checkout time to see what they are like. 

To finish up on our time in Pitlochry: 

We went to a play at the beautiful local theatre, which performs a number of productions in rotation. We went to a performance of The 39 Steps based on the Hitchcock film. It was performed by four actors playing a large number of roles. It was very clever and well done. The place was originally a tent theatre, like the North Shore Music Theatre at home, and the Cape Cod Music Tent, and others. It is now a highly regarded venue. I imagine some folks come from other locations for a day or more partly to attend shows. They have a new director who will take over next year. It's the well known actor Alan Cummings. I actually remember reading about it at home.  He's from the area originally. I believe he proposed himself and interviewed for the position.  

We ate at a different restaurant each night, including the Coach House, the Old Mill. McKays, the Aulde Smitty Inn, and on our anniversary, on August 14th, at Fern Cottage.  They were all fine, but the Fern Cottage was by far the best. If you're going to Pitlochry, I highly recommend it as well as our B&B. 

The train from Pitlochry to here in Glasgow was about a two hour ride, but the train was over a half hour later. It didn't matter much to us, but there was at least one person who was a bit panicked (oxymoron?) because they were catching a plane in Edinbourgh and had two switch trains to get to the airport. On the train, there was an announcement apologizing for the delay, ( due to the heavy rains the day before) and explaining that  we were all due for a refund because the train was over a half hour later. Loring did it while we were in the train and we received the refund before we even reached Glasgow. 

SCOTLAND

Writing while riding the train. We are enroute from Pitlochry, where we've spent the last four days, to Glasgow, where we will spend the next five. 

Pitlochry was charming, though overly touristed. It  seems like everyplace is these days. But its charm came through, at the b&b where we stayed, the restaurants where we ate, the people we met, and the street lined with shops. They were mostly aimed at tourists, with the usual knickknacks and also full of tartan and mock tartan products, at least four  ice cream places, usually with lines, and oddly, three thrift shops, each supporting a different charity. One was run by the Red Cross, one by a children's charitiy, and the third, by the Scottish cancer organization.  

I spent one morning browsing those and some of the gift shops, while Loring took a couple of hour hike into the hills. 

To backtrack a bit:  We arrived in Edinbourgh after a pleasant enough six hour flight from Boston. It's always a pleasure to go someplace that has a direct flight. We arrived in the morning and were picked up by our pre arranged driver for the two hour drive to Pitlochry. We had chosen not to rent a car, mostly due to the driving being on the other side, and aside from the original drive, planned for train trips, the two hour one we are now on, and the one from Glasgow to Edinborough, under an hour, in another five days. 

Every Monday night in Pitlochry there is a drum and pipe performance, and fortuitously, we arrived on a Monday. It happens at the town recreation field, or, in the case of rain, at the city hall. The field is about a fifteen minute walk from our lodging. Many people had cars and drove, but many others walked. Hard to know who in the audience was local and how many were visitors. It was a great introduction to the country and the town. There were two bands, plus a group of  young local dancers. The emcee was very funny. He asked where people were from, indicating he'd greet each in their own language. There were many from England, Scotland,  a fair number from other European countries, one person from China, a group of Australians, and very few Americans, probably no more than a half dozen. The mc actuallly greeted every group with "bonjour" except for the French visitors, to whom he said "willkomen."

One band was local. The other was a prize winning band from Australlia who had last been there six years ago. I assume they have different guest groups each year, or perhaps even each week. 

The bands performed in precise formation, very pleasing to watch. Even Loring admitted that they sounded good. He's not a big fan of bagpipes. I never before noticed that not all bagpipes are in the same key.  

The dancers were young girls and young women. They danced to traditional music except for the last one, a single dancer who danced a more  ballet- like dance to more modern music.    

One dance featured two pairs, two girls and two boys dressed in sailor suits. In retrospect, the boy characters must have been girls, especially as there hadn't been any previous boy dancers. In any case, very cute. They then invited members of the audience to learn the dance. A large number of people came onto the field from the bleachers. Many of them clearly already knew the dance. Others had never done it before. It reminded us of the contra dances we used to attend, for many years, and where we met many of our long term friends. 

There was a female singer who performed two songs between the other performances, Unfortunately the sound system was terrible and her voice did not sound very good. Near the end, she and the mc sang a song together. He had not sung before, and it was a nice surprise to hear the two together, despite the mediocre sound. 

The performance ended with the two bands and all the other performers parading around the field, followed by most of the audience.

Wow, and that was only the first night. 

Tigh na Cloich, our B&B, was delightful, as were our hosts. The breakfasts were more than ample, and excellent. They held us over with maybe an ice cream midday, until supper. There was fruit, yogurt, cereal, croissants, and that was just the first course. Then a choice of omelettes. various kinds of eggs, bacon, baked beans, hash browns in little triangular cakes, tatties, which are more of a potato pancakes, , broiled tomatoes, toast, probably something I'm forgetting. 

The scrambled eggs were the fluffiest and most delicious l've ever had. I asked for the secret and they gave me the recipe. It includes cream or milk, and butter, as I'd suspected. Stephanie asked me to send her a picture from home of us cooking and eating them! 

On our second day we walked down to the dam on the river and the salmon ladder.  It helps the salmon make their way back to where they were born, to spawn and then die. That is, if they don't get eaten by eagles or bears, as we'd seen in Alaska and on a live webcam respectively. Don't know if anything gets them here, aside from their natural death. There was a live cam  at the visitors center, but we only spotted one fish through the very murky water. The visitors' center mostly focussed on the building of the dam in the early 20th century. There were recorded recollections of workers and residents, and info about how many had originally opposed it but later came to appreciate it. 

Some final thoughts, observations, anecdotes

We are home now, after a 16 hour flight from Cape Town to Atlanta, a layover, and a last two hour leg home. It is Delta's second longest flight, the longest being from Johannesburg, not much longer. It wasn't as grueling as we had expected. With meals, movies, writing, sleeping, the time seemed to pass. A few things that I neglected to write about before: The Maasai We passed a number of Maasai villages in our drives. The typical houses are small, with cone shaped thatched roofs. We frequently saw Masai people along the road and in the fields, men, women, and children. Many times they were herding cows and/or goats, men and also teenage boys. They wore typical clothing, bright colors and a cape-like material tossed over one shoulder. We also encountered them at the rest stops along our drives, often selling souvenirs and jewelry, or, especially the women, offering to pose with us for photos. We also saw them at the lodges, where the women were making and selling beaded jewelry. At one lodge, I marvelled at the skills of two Maasai women making a basket. One woman strung tiny gold seed beads onto a wire from a pile in her lap. The other one coiled already threaded wire into a basket. I had already purchased a beautiful basket at another location, and have been trying to limit my buying and even letting go of some of my collected handicrafts and oddities. But I of course bought another basket from the women. Beaded handicrafts are found everywhere we went, and are also common in other African countries. I know of beaded jewelry from a number of places. In Tanzania we saw jewelry, baskets, coasters, animals, much more in hotel and rest stop gift shops. At the airport yesterday I saw a life size Nelson Mandela made entirely of beads, very impressive. And also a not quite life size but also impressive giraffe. In the crafts market in Cape Town, the same crafts were available and many more. Many were the same as the ones we saw in Tanzania. I am not sure if they make the same crafts in both countries, or if some are imported from other countries. There were clothes, wooden carved masks, animals, furniture. And a variety of stone carved items. And paintings, none very appealing to us, that we guessed might have been made in China. (Loring read a book a few years ago about the industries in China producing art and crafts for foreign countries.( ie paintings of Paris scenes) And much more than I can describe. One shop had a vast quantity of beautiful African beads like the antique clay trade beads. I was tempted but resisted. I asked and was told that they came from Ghana. One shop had designer clothing both in stock and that could be custom made. I saw on their website that they had pop up shops yearly in Berlin and New York. I tried on several and was told they could be altered in a few hours, but didn't find the right one. And they were two or three times the price of clothing I'd seen in other places. On our last day, I did purchase a tunic made specially for me from material I chose, with the vendor assuring me that he could have it done and delivered to me in two hours. (we were leaving then.) I gave him a deposit and then had second thoughts about how wise an idea that had been. But true to his word he delivered it to our hotel only five minutes late. And I love it. There was one huge shop and gallery in Tanzania that we stopped at two different times, obviously arranged for the tourists. They had a vast array of many kinds of art and crafts, much of which liked, mostly quite large. They assured us the works could be removed from their frames and rolled up to be able to be carried home. But my concern was more the lack of wall space at home to display anything more than what we already have collected over the years. I think I was pretty reserved in what I did purchase, although not as much as I hoped to be. A couple of baskets, the towels with recipes I already described from the museum in Cape Town, gifts for the kids and two year old Julian. Carolina had requested, jokingly, an elephant and a warthog. We got her a small beaded elephant. Warthogs were harder to find, probably because they are ugly. We did find a bottle opener with a handle made of a warthog tooth. I think she'll like it. We got a set of wood nesting bowls for M and M. Julian gets a T shirt from Tanzania, and a shirt with a safari truck and elephants from South Africa. Loring bought a shirt with with an African pattern, probably the only clothing item other than t shirts he's ever purchased in our travels. I had wanted to buy something with a tanzanite stone, a gemstone found only in Tanzania. But I had no interest in a fancy expensive piece of jewelry, a good thing since tanzanite is very expensive. Most pieces ranged in the thousands of dollars. What I found is a silver ring in the shape of the African continent, with a tiny tanzinite stone marking Tanzania. The perfect souvenir! A few words about clothes, the ones we brought. We were told to wear neutral earthy colors, browns and beige and green. Supposedly bright colors attract the animals' attention. (But didn't we want to attract them?) And no blue, because that attracts the tsetse flies. Tsetse flies, shit. I was worried enough about mosquitos, to which I have a bad, sometimes allergic reaction. One of the first days on safari, I was bitten about a dozen times by insects that looked like house flies. I asked Nixon, our guide, what tsetse flies look like. He said these were tsetse flies. I felt sleepy for a while but think it was all in my mind. And sleeping sickness has a lot more symptoms. We rarely encountered any mosquitos, and hardly any tsetses after the first day or two. All of the lodges had mosquito netting around the beds, romantic but unneccesary. We were also told to bring our things in a duffel bag, I am guessing because they are easier to cram into the vehicles. We did, and fit everything into ones that are carry-on size, the way we like to travel. But ours were by far the smallest bags in the group. And some people were staying for less time than we did, and not going to a city in addition to the safari. What do people bring, unless they bring a separate outfit for each day of a trip? One more thing: let me describe some of the names of groups of animals we encountered, in addition to a tower of giraffes. A group of zebras is a dazzle, one of hippos is a bloat, a group of elephants is a parade, and one of flamingoes is a flamboyance. This is not something I learned on our trip, but something I learned about long ago. I don't know if these words or their equivalents are used in Africa or anywhere beside the United States. One more thing to research. But I have long thought of writing a children's counting/alphabet book that uses these group names. Maybe this trip will inspire me. I think I will end this account here, although there is so much more I could tell. I write this blog first for myself, as a journal I can look back on to remember where I have gone and what I have done. But I am pleased and flattered when others read it, so thank you. I hope I have entertained and informed you. And now, time to start thinking about my next adventure.

Around the Cape of Good Hope

One of the most popular excursions from Cape Town is a nearly daylong trip around the Cape of Good Hope with several stops along the way. Many people do it by bus tour. We decided, not being big fans of bus tours, to hire a guide for the day. The hotel referred us to Franklin. It was interesting just to ride with and talk with him during the drive. I told him we'd been to the District Six Museum. He said he lives in the district. He drove us past his apartment building. Much of the area had been rebuilt with business buildings after the desecration. And some new houses had been built to rehouse and recompensate people who the government had displaced years earlier. There have been some reparations made, but not nearly enough and it sounds like a complicated process. I am not sure whether Franklin's building was part of that, but don't think he had been due any recompensation. We drove through a number of townships and towns, some poor, some affluent, and in at least one case, one of each on facing sides of the road. Although actual apartheid ended decades ago, the contrast and inequities between races is striking. Whites comprise 7% of the population, and more than 90% of the wealth. Some of the towns close to the city are extremely affluent, with large fancy houses built into the cliffs facing the ocean. And then there are literal tin shanty towns. One of the many forms of local art consists of little tin houses made from soda cans, with a painted background. They range from about 6 inches square ( I bought one, of course) to huge works of art with incredible details. I asked Franklin if the elite neighborhoods welcomed black neighbors. He laughed and said that money talks. It sounds like money is more important than race in determining acceptance. Franklin was frank(haha) about thoughts about Mandela. He said that many South Africans do not consider him a hero because he didn't go far enough in demanding and implementing equal rights. But he himself did admire Mandela. He talked about many things, including his daughter, who is autistic and non verbal. That came up when he showed us his favorite beach, which he prefers to take his daugher to because it is quieter and a little harder to access than most of the other, more popular ones. We stopped at another spot famous for its penguin colony. We could have paid to enter at one spot for a supposedly better view. But Franklin indicated that we could get virtually the same view for free. We saw a few penguins, just at the side of the path, and they were neat to see. Maybe we were jaded by all of the wildlife we had seen the week before. My feelings about the tour in general were that I am glad we did it, just to get more of a sense of the area. But the stops were all overtouristed, although I can't really complain as I am one myself. It is a shame to have to wait in a short line to take your picture of the Cape of Good Hope sign. And we opted not to take the gondola to the top of Table Mountain, which provides and impressive view of the city. But it is not far from the city, and on a sunny day when there is a view, it is overrun with visitors. Their website gives a wait time for the trip up, and the trip down. It was over an hour each direction. We decided to wait and perhaps do it on another day on our own. But in the end, although we did have another sunny day, we decided to forgo it. Overtourism is not an issue just here. We have encountered it frequently in recent years, in places as disparate as Vietnam and Bar Harbor, Maine. It's partly due to the rise of the internet and influencers, and then those influenced, needing to document and share the perfect image of themselves. We've seen people posing and preening on beaches, for hours in some cases, and also sometimes narrating their experiences outloud as they pose. It's not just the influencers and influenced, I know, but the internet has certainly changed the way we travel. I did thoroughly enjoy Cape Town, although the typical tourist parts were the least of it. Franklin did take us to one neighborhood that was famous for its artists and its colorful houses. The story was that Bo Kamp householders painted their houses once they acquired ownership, to indicate their pride and achievement of ownership. It was touristed, too, but less so, and I found it more interesting. Partly due to the art, I'm sure. The center of the city is more visually attractive than I expected. There is a variety of architecture, including that influenced by the Dutch and the British. (the British fought and kicked out the Dutch.) There are a number of Victorian style buildings from the turn of the 20th century, including our hotel. Many are decorated with gingerbread adornments, and many are also painted in bright colors. The waterfront area, another tourist destination, is very modern and still growing. Lots of construction. It is where most of the large modern and chain hotels are located. There are also many large apartment buildings that are probably condos. It is not what I'd consider a neighborhood, and I am very glad we didn't stay there. All in all, an interesting city, one I am glad to have visited, despite my reservations about overtourism.