From the High Country to the Craic in the Glass

From the High Country to the Craic in the Glass

Hello one, hello all,

I see in the crystal that everyone is well; the pint glass never lies [especially when it's masquerading as a row of empty soldiers].

Hasn't the world changed recently?
Is it just me or is there irony in the fact that Bushy keeps using God as his witness?

Let me get this one in early, Go you Bloody Knights, kicked the arse of those slimy eels all over the place and perhaps it's time that they dedicated the BHP site to the men of steel, on my return I'd like to be having a beer on top of the number 4 blast furnace with salubrious views of the city and hop on the roller coaster at the adjoining Knight world amusement park where each and every player from the past is dedicated on the walk of fame with their own blackies anvil. End exclamation.

Got myself out of the madness of festival city Edinburgh and up to the highlands of Scotland, a sightly neck of the woods with plenty a mount and a Loch.
Stopped in on some travelling acquaintances and by chance the last Highland games fling of the season was on at the time. Oh to see those big blokes throwing stuff around a paddock, the weather a mix of bright sunshine overcoming rain clouds, a wee dram of whiskey to warm the intestines and the eerie din of the pipes as they kick in as the afternoons soundtrack.
The biggest day of the towns year and long night of celebration leading into the next day when I took on the local Ben at days dawning just see the look on the towns face.
No sign of the Monster at Loch Ness but everyone knows it's there anyway.

Scotland: where the water meets the mountains and the people you meet in the pubs [Perhaps I can sell this on to Tourism Scotland].
When up Ben Nevis they say is the highest point in the UK and the views never lie up high as you look out over the place and realise that now might be a good time to move on to the Irish craic.

Hopped on a bus, crossed on a boat to Belfast and into to Old Dublin town where the realities of work have hit me again as I do a bit of work on the Festival and contemplate the next move.

Yes, the Guinness is the best it's true, although on top of the Guinness brewery where gods’ water comes straight from the source, the taste of the pint was topped by the view of the town as the sun slowly sets in my mind.

Got on the devils hotline with one of these infernal handsets, so I s'pose that means I'll be around this way for a while, who knows where.
Feel free to drop me one of those insidious text things and be assured of a lumbering but appropriate response.

Take it easy as always,

Love The Wookiee, [preparing his winter coat for the onset of the cold, but for today anyway the town is bathed in sunlight.]

Old Blighty, Go Lighty

Old Blighty, Go Lighty

To everyone on the receiving end of this one,

Hope all's well in your various spaces on the planet.

This report comes from summery Edinburgh, which serves up a tantalising serve of sunlight for several minutes each day and then slithers comfortably into drizzle and the distinct impression of an Aussie winter.

Still what can I say; it's good to be up in the world literally, as far north on the planet as I've ever been and seeing a different side of it.

Since landing in London mid-June I skulked onto a building site to cart plasterboard and earn a quid [Yes finally that oft heard expression took on its true perspective].
London ain't the cheapest place around and yet I managed to get out of there with the balance sheet in the Black and a bit of an insight into the centre of the pommy universe.

Not a great deal on the visitation front but I met some good people and had a laugh variously, especially as the Aussies cleaned up the sporting arenas around the place and had the locals reaching for the excuse manual, all in good humour.

Since reaching the Scotch capital I've literally been thrust underground into a subterranean existence that at times has threatened my sanity, but which at this point as I settle down into enjoying the festival feel is looking more like a prize achievement.
I arrived in this place not knowing what to expect and in the last month have been cast into one of those managerial and bureaucratic nightmares as the mob who I am working for set to coaxing a bunch of various individuals to slave in the theatrical salt-mines to get 8 venues up and running in 2 weeks for the festival.

To say it has been complete madness would be to negate the truth of some long hours and some journeys beyond seemingly the edge of the impossible.
But in the scheme of it they threw me into a vault under the city to scratch a theatre space out of thirty-foot stone ceilings [200 year old stalactites included] and tales of ghosts and a seedy history.
This place, to all as the underground, is truly an incredible space, which puts anything else to shame and stands as the redeeming feature of the experience so far. After many hours on circular saws and drills, up ladders, building scaffold, hanging from edges and generally sweating, spilling blood and frying the brain, the place opened and is now wondered at by the visiting public.
Mission accomplished for me, I can now slip into enjoying the shows and the pulse of the festival in this impressive city of the ancients.
Not sure of the next move, will keep in touch as my brain clicks some vague plan into action.

Great to hear from anyone with a word on the day or the moment.

Take it easy,

Love The Wookiee. (Wearing the summer fur)

From The Transit Lounge

From the Transit Lounge

How's everyone going?

Been out of touch for a while, in Laos for a month, a transit stop of sorts before the continent.

Hanging out in the capital with the family who took me under their wing the last time around.

A bizarre occurrence a few days there, drinking the local fire water and chatting with a member of the family one day, the next day she goes to the toilet and dies, no-one sure exactly of the cause, we thought she may have slipped but it is suspected that she had a heart attack and was probably dead before she hit the floor. In all the commotion I saw the body, hardly something you expect on a holiday and in such circumstances, so I was locked into the position of not wanting to desert in this time of mourning for the family and me as an honorary member. The Laos tradition sees the body hosted by the family for a week, the body is cremated and then the home of the death is prayed upon to clean the spirits.

So in 17 days in Vientiane, I went to the funeral twice, playing cards and drinking and eating are the celebratory backdrop, went to the wake, more drinking and eating, and finally it felt right to make a break for a week up North for some R and R [sans death celebrations].

Certainly different for us of the Christian legacy but why not let it be said that death is a send off of sorts so why not celebrate death as much as life.

A challenging month to say the least, but a confirmation of the incredibly open nature of Laos people, always a home away from home, and reinforcing the idea that Lao Lao [The Drink of Choice] is thicker than water but not quite the same colour as blood.

Back in Bangkok, leaving for old Blighty Wed morn and wondering what the road has in store.

London for a month and then Edinburgh for the festival.

More news as it comes to the minds eye.

Take it easy.

Love to everyone [including those beyond this dastardly, yet convenient communication device].

The Wookiee.

"THE WOOKIEES NEW AWAKENING BEGINS IN EARNEST"