Lunch on El Capitan

A scant few days before I was scheduled to head off to the land down under, I traveled to Yosemite National Park to get in my share of backpacking and hiking. I spent one night on the trail, then my brother joined me as we stayed in an entirely civilized cabin/tent/shack, followed by a day of hiking.

I did the North Rim trail on my own, taking the bus/train/bus to the park from San Francisco, then hitch hiking to the trail head (this took much longer than expected, and was my first attempt at hitch hiking. I will be much more likely to pick up hitchers in the future. At least, in national parks when they're dressed as hikers with full backpacks supporting their story...). I started at Oak Flat Road Trail, at the entrance to the valley, at 4pm.


I got as many miles as I could before full dark (and then a few more, by headlamp) before making my camp on a shoulder in the midst of a grueling three-mile climb.



I had myself a camp fire, and enjoyed myself immensely. The full moon was incredibly bright, but it didn't rise until I was settled in my tent, ready to sleep. Then it shown in my eyes. Brightly. But it was pretty cool to see how stark the shadows were, just from the moonlight.

The next day saw the completion of the grueling climb, then flat going through meadows and across granite domes.


I had lunch on the famous climber's mecca, El Capitan. With a commanding view of the entire valley, it was a great spot to absorb the grandeur of Yosemite.




Man, the valley is spectacular. Each rock formation by itself would be breathtaking. Them all together is just incredible...

The rest of the day saw me cursing at every incline in the trail (the map says this meadow is FLAT!) and heading to Yosemite Falls, the tallest waterfall on the continent.



I climbed down the Yosemite Falls trail, said to be the most strenuous trail in the park (ok, going up is the most strenuous. Down was just taxing).



I met a spaniard on the way down, and we got to talking. He was a bit jealous when he found out what I did ("I'm off to New Zealand and Vanuatu next week. Have a good rest of your visit to good ol' America"), but our conversation made short work of the hour-plus, 4-mile-downhill trail.

That night brought a blissful shower and a relaxing pizza dinner. My brother drove in and joined me much too late for my tastes, but I had a nice nap before he got there. We retired to our signature tent cabin shack, and I fell into an exhausted sleep.

Day 3 started with an excellent breakfast at the Curry Village buffet (that came with our rooms, very worth it!), then we hopped on the tour up to Glacier Point. An hour and a half of bad jokes and beautiful scenery later, we arrived at the top of the valley (south side this time) and admired the view. Half Dome dominated the landscape. Unfortunately the cables were down for the season, but that was probably a good thing, since I wasn't up to a 16-mile round trip hike with almost a vertical mile of elevation gain. So we took the Panorama Trail down to the valley floor.



It was a beautiful trail, in very diverse ecosystems. I hadn't seen the low mountain brush clinging to the hillside anywhere else in the park. It took us through forests, across rivers, past waterfalls, up steep granite hills (grumble grumble incline) and opposite Half Dome.



Even when hiking Half Dome, I didn't get those views of the granite monolith. The Panorama Trail gave great perspectives.


The Panorama Trail led into the Mist Trail, leading past Nevada and Vernal Falls. A grueling 4-plus-mile descent into the valley left our legs shaking and our knees aching. But we made excellent time, and we hit the valley floor just in time to leave with rush hour traffic.


An uneventful drive, punctuated by a dinner and gas stop, brought us back to San Francisco, where I dropped into an exhausted stuppor. 26 miles in a weekend will do that, I suppose. Kudos to marathoners.

Visits on a whim

After this year's Philadelphia Live Arts Festival, I had some free time. I was flying out of San Francisco in mid-October to join the Dawn Princess, and I had no commitments between mid-September and then.

So off to see the relatives. I have been derelict in my visits in the past few years, and all of a sudden it's been years since I've seen and been seen by family. And friends.

So off to Long Island, Boston, Maine, Rhode Island and New York City.  Time to reap the benefits of being a nomad and throw together a week-long road trip up the East Coast.

Fringe Season

I've worked at the Philadelphia Live Arts and Fringe Festival every year since 2006. When I started traveling, I kept returning to Philadelphia in the late summer to continue working at the festival. This year was no different. I spent a solid two months in Philadelphia, working for the festival on various shows and projects.

August was spent loading in various shows, setting up various venues, and generally sweating a year's worth of sweat. I hate hot weather. Especially on the tail end of a cold summer in Paris, then a quick vacation in Switzerland. From down vests to sweaty t-shirts. Ick. Sigh.

September saw a cooling of weather, the opening of all the shows, and the international touring shows rolling into town. The festival is such a draw for me because of the international element. Despite being in Philadelphia, where I have loosely lived for the past few years (not that I live anywhere), companies from all over the world are brought in. I worked with companies from France, England and Belgium in two weeks. Nice.

Then it's over, and it's off to find work elsewhere.

Switzerland, because why not?

I had a few days between my flight home and the end of the tour, so I was left in Europe with nothing to do. I jumped on skyscanner.net, searched for a cheap flight from Paris to anywhere, and settled on Switzerland. Basel it was.












A nice three-day vacation.

Paris

The second (and final) leg of our tour was to Paris, France.

We struck everything in St. Etienne, stuffed it into the van, and headed up to Paris. Between strike and load in we had one travel day, spent on the TGV, trying hard to sleep on the train as French children made our acquaintances. A seamless reception and pickup met us at the train station in Paris, and everything already looked better, smoother and easier than St. Etienne.


A visit to the space confirmed that everything was well underway, all of our communications had been heeded, and the crew was a jolly and good-natured bunch. Rock.


And then it was load in. Four days of frantic activity, punctuated by typical French meal breaks (although these were only one hour long) of civilized eating and relaxing, topped off with a coffee. We opened on Bastille Day, with a free performance that might have been considered a preview. It was packed, with many appreciative kids giggling at our gags. Shortly before we opened the doors, we learned that we had just sold out our entire run. With no press, no previews, no word of mouth. What? ...Awesome. We were that cool American show.



The run continued to be a smashing success, with huge and appreciative audiences each night. We ran solid shows, socialized with the incredibly-friendly house crew, and perused Paris during our free mornings.


A work day would start around 5pm for a casual preset, getting the million things ready for the start of the show, checking all the equipment and putting everything in its very peculiar place. After a couple hours of prep by the 5 of us, the set would be ready. Then it was actor warmup and fight call, then the familiar pressure of the house crew wanting to open the doors, and us wanting a quiet moment. Finally, we would arrive at an appropriate time to open the doors (maybe 5 minutes before show time... Oops), start the show a few minutes late (the French theater-going audience is not known for their punctuality), run a solid hour-and-a-quarter show, then clean up. We'd be out of there around 10pm every night, then usually head to get dinner. Very Parisien. And we'd be completely free until the next day at 5.



Which left me free for exploration of Paris. I had only visited the city once (see the very first post of this blog for elaboration of that adventure). I had three weeks in the city to better visit and tour and relax. Much better than 20 hours with no accommodations... I kept meaning to find the bush that I slept under. I never did...

I did make it to the Eifel Tower, the Basilica Sacre Coeur, the Louvre, Shakespeare and Co, the Bastille, la Defense, and the Champs-Elysees, among other sites. I became familiar with the extensive subway system, as well as proficient at avoiding getting flattened on its cobblestoned streets, filled with chaotic European traffic (we even rented scooters one day... What were we thinking?!).










All in all, it was an excellent sojourn in France, giving me another taste of the touring lifestyle, as well as another experience living in a foreign country. My French greatly improved, as it was the first time I had used the language outside of the classroom. Paris still has many attractions I didn't get to, so there's always room to go back, but until then, it's full-tilt in any other direction.

Tour to France

After a brief stop on the East Coast to dump most of my belongings, repack into a smaller suitcase, and pick up plenty of props and show equipment, it was off to France with the show from Edinburgh last year.

A week in St. Etienne, down by Lyon, would be followed by three weeks in Paris. It's a highly ambitious show to load in, but we had a great team, and we knew what we were doing, after Edinburgh. The show had also gone to the London Mime Festival in January, while I was on ships.


So off to St. Etienne, to work exclusively in French, loading in a full convenience store into some kind of performance space. We weren't sure exactly where we were performing. We knew it was the Palais des spectacles, but exactly where in the 6-acre building, we didn't know.


The team we met there was a little overfaced by what we proposed to do. We needed to install a full ceiling, floor and walls. Plus very specific lighting and sound plots, and intricate rigging for all of the tricks of the play. Like our ducks that need to fly through the ceiling. I think they thought our french was just very bad...




But the magic of theater prevailed, and despite constant doubts on our part, we opened on time. The actors did the entire show in French, changing the script over into a different language. We performed in a wildly different space from anything the show had seen before. And we performed despite deafeningly loud rain beating on the roof of our venue, drowning out the subtle and silent sound design, and breaking the actors' voices as they tried to yell over the chaos.

We played to sold out houses, and were well received. And three days later, we struck it and headed to Paris.