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Monday, July 15, 2002 07:41

Location: Hotel Pulkovskaya

Weather: Hot, some high thin cloud

A fabulous busy day yesterday. We had a late start, but got to the Hermitage at 10:40 for a brief and somewhat frustrating guided tour. Absolutely impossible to get a good feel for the place in an hour and a half anyway, but being herded through by a tour guide didn’t help. I’m going to go back on Thursday for a proper visit.

After a reather bad cafeteria lunch, we drove to our second rehearsal with the orchestra in the same hot stuffy rehearsal hall. They showed some improvement, but not much. Howard blew his top at the horns for consistently playing too loud, and announced to the choir that the Glen Buhr piece was cancelled.

Following our return to the hotel I met up with Michael, Virginia and Marge in the lobby to try and go see the Kirov Ballet. We metro’d down to Nevsky, but I’d got my ballet halls confused — St. Petersburg has at least two — so we had to pile in a cab to get over to the Mariinsky Theatre by 6:30. We started by lining up for tickets, but a young Russian with excellent English ended up selling us 3rd row orchestra (“par terre”) seats for US$50 each (regular price > $100) and sneaked us in past the “face check”. There’s a dual pricing system in effect: Russians, and foreigners working or studying in Russia, pay only $23 for those seats.

Though we were nervous about being caught by the vigilant baboushkas, we made it in ok and enjoyed a fabulous set of three one-act ballets: “Chopiniana”, “Apollo” and “Death and the Young Man”. While the first was a very classical ballet with a large corps and just a couple of solo dancers (set to music by Chopin) the other two were much more powerful and gripping, both with a much smaller ensemble. Apollo danced with three muses (poetry, drama and music), while in the final ballet a young man danced with Death in the form of a beautiful but cold maiden, dressed in yellow with long black gloves, who ultimately led him to a scaffold and beyond to a nightmare underworld (Paris under a blood red sky). It was a fabulous show in a wonderful theatre.

When we got out of the ballet at 10:45 it was still incredibly bright outside. We were pumped from seeing such a great show, so we walked over to Cafe Idiot, just a few blocks away, for a late meal. We — and especially I — had quite a lot to drink. I ordered borscht, and the “small gentleman’s kit” (a plate of herring, beets, gherkins, and small mushrooms) and a large mug of beer, but the kit also came with 100mL of vodka, rather too much. (Incidentally, the “large gentleman’s kit” comes with a full litre of vodka — and a taxi home. Really.) I shared some vodka with Virginia and Michael (Marge wasn’t drinking) and drank the rest. Fortunately there was plenty of food to go with it.

We emerged into the twilight of 12:15, with only a quarter hour before the last subway train and no taxis in sight. We set off at a quick pace but it still took 20 minutes to get back to Nevsky Prospekt. By the time we arrived, the gates to the metro were closed and padlocked. What to do?

Lonely Planet to the rescue. Following their suggestion, we gamely stuck out our arms, palms down, to the passing traffic. Within seconds a Lada pulled up. I opened the passenger door and said “Moskovskaya Metro” to the driver, to indicate our destination, and flashed a 500 ruble bill to fix a price. He was pretty happy with that — 500 R is about twice the going rate for that distance, according to LP — so we piled in. As the map reader and best speaker of Russian, I got shotgun & the others crammed in the back.

We hurtled home through the nighttime streets, stopping once or twice to confirm we’d successfully communicated where we were going. I was initially thrown off by not reading my own map too carefully, but the driver had it right. Making more than a couple dangerous turns and merges into moving traffic, and at one point running a red light, he had us back to the metro station in about 40 minutes. A 10 minute walk from there, and our unforgettable night was over.

2002 07 15 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Sunday, July 14, 2002 08:40

Location: Hotel Pulkovskaya

Weather: Hot & sunny

We had a long and quite tiring day yesterday. Our bus tour continued with stops on the north side of the Neva across from the Hermitage, a drive past the Peter & Paul Fortress and the Cruiser “Aurora” at berth, and a visit to a touristy souvenir centre called “Red October”, which offered free coffee, tea, schnapps, and washrooms, in an attempt to entice us to buy without looking too closely at the prices.

We had lunch in a wonderfully bizarre restaurant called “The Pregnant Spy’s Travelling Handbag”, which had rooms with different themes, all over the top: a spy theme, a dungeon, and a cave. A bunch of us ended up in the room whose theme seemed the most popular: blatant sex, with a hint of violence. A very strange place, but we all agreed it had a lot of “character” and the food was good.

After lunch I walked back to the Field of Mars and through the Summer Gardens, with Brian, Lanny, Ngaio, Michael and a couple of others. At the entrance to the Summer Gardens I bought some lovely blakc and white photos of the city and some good postcards.

Then we worked our way back along a canal to Nevsky Prospekt, and after a quick stop to buy some booze, home to the hotel on the metro. I didn’t think I needed a nap before the rehearsal, but apparently I did: I fell asleep in the room reading my book.

At 6 we loaded up on buses to go to a rehearsal hall to the east side of the city, a sweltering room under bright spotlights where we met our orchestra, the State Symphony Orchestra of Saint Petersburg. They were pretty disappointing: they clearly hadn’t looked at the music before, and were missing a couple of key members of the brass section. Howard kept his cool admirably, but was clearly and understandingly irritated at their seeming inability to play quietly, and their frequent lack of ensemble. Hopefully they’ll improve with a couple more rehearsals.

After the rehearsal we trucked back to the hotel and had a light dinner in the “steak house”, which was fairly expensive but very tasty. I had blinis stuffed with mushrooms and chicken, which came with a small array of fresh salad vegetables, and a small mug of beer. To close the evening we went to Ngaio and Mary Jo’s room for a martini nightcap. We were all too tired to be witty and turned in soon after.

2002 07 14 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Saturday, July 13, 2002 10:00

Location: St. Isaac’s Square

Weather: Warm & sunny

When I got back to the hotel yesterday the rest of the choir had arrived and was in the process of checking in. They all seemed rather shell-shocked, understandable since after an overnight flight to Helsinki they’d been bundled into buses for a nine hour drive to St. Petersburg. I joined the group for a late dinner. After a quick walk over to the Monument to the Glorious Defenders of Leningrad (opposite the hotel) we turned in.

This morning we piled onto the buses after breakfast and are touring the city. We stopped for “10 minutes” outside St. Isaac’s Cathedral… Up to 25 minutes so far.

2002 07 13 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

7:46 (later the same day)

I had a great afternoon, mostly just walking around the city. I have a pretty good feel for it now. Having previously figured out how to navigate concentric canals in Amsterdam sure helped.

From the Idiot I walked up and along Bol Morskaya ul under the double arch and into Vortsovaya pl, a huge square dominated by the Hermitage opposite and the Alexander Column in the centre. Unfortunately, at the moment it’s also dominated by renovations in progress for the city’s 300th birthday next year: the column was covered in scaffolding and the street in front of the hermitage was ripped up by earthmovers. Still, a very impressive sight. I started taking pictures.

Along to the right, the New Hermitage building with its Atlantes–semi-clad musclemen statues holding up the facade–was mobbed by wedding parties. There were four there when I arrived, taking photos and videos, and as they started to move off more arrived. I took pictures of a few of them but it soon became clear this wasn’t an unusual sight here, so I moved on, walking down the alley next to it to the Neva, which provided a nice view (and good photo op) of the front side of the Hermitage.

After a pause to consult the guide book and figure out where to go next, I walked east along the river and took the next right, back down to the canal. The Stroganov Palace was covered in scaffolding. Moving further along, I came to the set of bridges where the Moyka intersects the Griboedova, which provided a great view of the Church on Spilled Blood. Moving around that, I got to the Russian Museum. With an hour and a half before closing (but an entry charge of only C$6) I figured it was worth it and went for a tour.

I had a great tour of the museum. It has a lovely collection, and there were several pieces that struck me that I wanted to remember, so I bought their illustrated book to bring home. After all, it may be a while before my next opportunity to see them!

Emerging at 5pm, having walked for the whole afternoon, I had food on my mind. The first thing was to get some supplies for the hotel room. I found a supermarket, and picked up another bottle of water (1.5L only lasted me the day) and a bottle of wine, plus some Pringles and a box of digestives. I wanted to get cheese but thought it wouldn’t be a great idea to carry it around for the rest of the afternoon in the heat.

Then I headed south, crossing a large construction project in Sennaya pl, to a caucausan restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, Kafe Adzhika. I had a lovely meal of chicken with nut sauce (rather like a mild curry), a tomato and onion salad, a piece of bread and a big glass of wine, for about $4.

Finally, I headed back to where I am now, Quo Vadis, to update the diary again. Since the rest of the tour group is arriving now it may be a couple of days before I get a chance to head in here again. I found that going in this morning had been a particularly good idea: their prices double after lunch (but that’s still only C$3/hr).

2002 07 12 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Friday, July 12, 2002 12:50

Location: Cafe Idiot, nab reki Moyki 82, St. Petersburg

Weather: Hot, partly cloudy

Frankie is singing “I did it my way” on the cafe’s stereo. Despite the Lonely Planet’s warning, the Idiot is not packed with expats. Indeed, it’s empty of customers, other than me, so far as I can tell. It’s a curious place, all low ceilings, mixmatched furniture and atmospheric lighting. The decor is English country c. 1940 crossed with Parisian art deco. Pleasant enough, anyway.

I haven’t made it to the Hermitage today despite my plans. This morning started a bit slower than planned (I blame the 3 hour time change from the UK) and I had to do laundry, buy water, etc. I finally set out just after 10.

Frankie’s moved on to “New York, New York”, but I reckon St. Petersburg is about as far away from Manhatten as a big city can get. It’s as though Amsterdam was built on a Parisian scale, then moved to Vietnam. The roads are massive, but side streets along the canals are often literally more pothole than pavement. The weather is hot and humid, and the locals are dressed for it in thin shirts, crop tops and T’s.

The subway, buried deep under the city, was easy to figure out. I asked for 10 rides, expecting an electronic pass card (used by most of the locals) but instead got 10 tokens. Well, that’s some more flexibility to share with friends in the group.

Once downtown I walked along Nevsky Prospekt towards the Neva. The buildings on either side are tall and grand, though the stores are mostly familiar: Hugo Boss across the street, a coffee shop on the right. At the Moskovskaya subway stop was a MacDonald’s (or rather íÁËÄÏÎÁÌÄÓ [you’ll need cyrillic text installed to see that properly]).

At the Griboedova Canal (right next to the Nevsky Prospekt subway stop) I took a photo of the beautiful Church on Spilled Blood on the right, then continued on a short distance to an Internet cafe (Quo Vadis), which was so much cheaper than the hotel ($1.50/hour instead of $16/hr) that I had to go in and get the diary up to date right away. When I emerged it was almost time for lunch. Crossing the avenue I went into the Kazan Cathedral, a large building with a pleasing dome flanked by grandiose St. Paul’s-esque colonnades. I followed a small stream of people going in a side door and found it was packed inside, with a service in progress. I gawked discretely at the ceilings and made my way back out.

I continued along the south side of the canal, crossing to the north at the pretty Bankovsky most pedestrian bridge. The buildings here were pretty shabby, and the pavement ripped up, but pedestrians were moving by normally and I had no sense of being in a “bad” part of town.

I cut up the next street to the innermost canal, the Moyka, and followed it around to the Idiot, which would have been easy to miss but for the clear building numbers.

Having finished a delicious lunch (mushroom soup, blinis and fresh grapefruit juice, C$19), and downed my complimentary shot of vodka, it’s time to pay up and see some more of the city.

2002 07 12 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Thursday, July 11, 2002

Location: Hotel Pulkovskaya, St. Petersburg

Weather: Hot & sunny

I made it! Zdrastvuytye! I had no trouble getting through the passport control and customs, and as my flight was full of Italian and American tourists I slipped under the touts’ radars and made it to my bus with no problems. I got on the right bus, but at the wrong spot… The number 13 does a run through a nearby residential district between the stops at the arrivals area (where I’d just changed some money) and the departures area. In other words, I got a 10-minute tour, and then returned where I’d come from, before finally heading out towards the city.

Though the bus ultimately went to a metro stop, I didn’t need to go that far. Instead, I hopped off by the massive roundabout around the Monument to the Heroic Defenders of Leningrad, across from the hotel, the even more massive Pulkovskaya. Inside the hotel, the tour group-friendly English-speaking receptionists checked me in with efficiency and I made it up to my room, which is of bog standard international design. And yes, Molly, it still has the heated towel racks you remember.

A recap of the rest of the week so far:

On Monday, after another hearty breakfast (featuring, for me, my first black pudding — not bad!) we left Durham for York. In no hurry, we stopped in Ripon for what we thought would be a quick visit to the cathedral. Unfortunately, in finding a car park Bruce (our only driver, dealing manfully with the left side of the road and the perils of roundabouts) ran the left front tire too close to a curb and we picked up a fluke tear in the tire wall. It held us until we got to the carpark, but there, the hiss of escaping air caught our attention and we realized the problem.

Since it clearly wasn’t going to make much difference when we changed the tire, we carried on with our tour of the cathedral, a beautiful building. Then we got directions to a repair shop. While Stephanie bought the makings of a picnic lunch, Brian, Bruce & I exerted our manly perogative to sweat and changed the tire with the spare from the trunk. At the repair shop the tire was examined and a patch was ruled out, so we had to get a new tire, which Bruce ruefully but firmly insisted on paying for.

Not wanting to spend any more time in Ripon, we drove off on the new tire to Fountains Abbey. When we arrived, a helpful parks official whose car we’d been following pointed us to the main car park, but there was an admission charge to get into the grounds and as we only wanted a place to picnic we decided to stay outside and ate our lunch on a bench by the wall. The abbey itself was behind a low hill ahead, so all we could see was the top of the steeple, rather disappointing.

After lunch we carried on to York. The city presented Bruce with more driving challenges: after a lengthy series of roundabouts on the ring road around the west side of town, we finally got onto the A62 leading down to the turnoff for our country B&B, but there Brian (navigating) let his guard down and missed the turnoff. Some half hour later, we made it back to the turnoff and somehow onto the right B road to Sutton-upon-Derwent, where our B&B was found easily on the main street. It was very nice, though I think Bruce and Steph were hoping that “Manor Farm” meant we would be staying on a real farm, not a converted farm house just off a village high street. Still, it had a lot of character, a friendly landlady, and a great pub just down the road.

Tuesday we went into town, parked the car, and walked over to the Minster. There, we made plans to meet for 5pm evensong and split up. For Brian and me, the first priority was to get our train tickets. Then he headed off for a bus tour of the city, I found an Internet cafe, and eventually, my way back to the Starbucks. [See the previous post.]

After Starbucks, I met up with the gang for evensong and we enjoyed a lovely service, again right next to the choir. They had four counter tenors! Their sound was tighter and more evenly blended than the Durham choir, but here there were no hymns sung and no collection.

After evensong we made our way back to the Ouse (the river running through York–isn’t that a lovely name?) and had a light dinner in a pub located in a converted wine cellar with lovely arched ceilings. Then we decided to catch “Minority Report” at the City Screen theatre, just down the street. We had an hour and a half before the show, so I headed back to try and check my email for a message from Colin & Licia in London. The Internet cafe was closed, but just down the street was a doorway leading to some stairs up to a tiny second-story bar which had free Internet terminals for patrons.

It also had a lineup. I got in line, eventually got a couple of minutes on the machine, and had, indeed, got confirmation of meeting Colin in London on Wednesday.

The movie, which I’d already seen in Toronto, was still entertaining the second time through, though the obviousness of the villain was if anything even more annoying than the first time.

On Wednesday we once again started with a huge English breakfast, and packed up the car. We took a meandering route to get to Leeds, stopping to try and see a huge church in Beverley. Unfortunately, it had been closed by a police detail in preparation for a visit by the Queen on Friday. We consoled ourselves with sandwiches and tea in a nearby teahouse, then set off again. In comparison to Tuesday the clouds had broken up and the rain had stopped, so we had a pleasant drive to Leeds, where Bruce & Steph dropped me at the train station and Brian at his conference.

Once in London, I made my way to Colin & Licia’s apartment, which is in a wonderful location: overlooking the Tower of London! As arranged, I settled in at the Liberty Bounds, a pub conveniently located downstairs of their apartment, until Colin got home from work to meet me and let me in. I had an all-too-brief stay. They are superb hosts and I hope to get a chance to see them again soon. For dinner we walked through the docklands to a great Italian restaurant in Upping called Il Bordello.

At 6:45 the next morning (this morning) I was off again, heading out to Heathrow on the Underground. And here I am… in Russia! Just starting to think about tracking down a late snack before bed.

2002 07 11 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Tuesday, July 9, 2002

Location: Starbucks, The Shambles, York

Weather: Rain

Starbucks’ expanding domination of the world seems to have run into absolutely no resistance in the UK. The British, stunned by the concept of a store selling really good coffee and providing comfy counches with no limit to how long you can stay, have apparently given up on tea and joined the queue for decaf grande frappucinos with all the enthusiasm of new missionaries. It’s a concept especially powerful in university towns like York, where on a rainy day like today the store is crowded with bright young things chattering gaily over cups, newspapers, and glossy catalogues.

I first visited York for my ex-girlfriend Anne Dutton’s wedding, seven years ago. I came back a couple of years later and stayed with Victoria Thompson on my way south to France from Scotland. As Vicky was working part time as a York city tour guide, I picked up a fair grasp of the city, so my day today is basically tourism-free. After the important tasks — booking a train ticket to London for tomorrow, paying some bills on the net — I’m having a relaxing afternoon writing postcards, catching up on the diary, and listening to mp3’s on my Jukebox.

Catching up on the diary properly — filling in all the details from the weekend, for example — is going to be hard, but I’ll give it a crack.

Saturday, Bruce, Brian, Stephanie and I checked out of the Thistle Hotel and took a cab across town to a (misnamed) Thrifty Car Rental. After a lengthy wait we got a very fancy new 4-door Volvo, into which we crammed our considerable luggage and our various sizes of frames, and settled in for a long drive.

We stopped for lunch in a small town’s hotel, where I harrassed the young restaurant’s only waitress with unreasonable requests for clotted cream with my scone and a real cappucino, and Bruce downed four small, expensive bottles of Coke in quick succession (with the predictable result in terms of afternoon stops).

Back on the road, we crossed over the causeway to the Holy Island. it’s flooded in high tide, but the tide had peaked earlier in the day and was on the way out, so there wan’t any issue. The Holy Island is basically small and flat, but for a little castle on a raised mount at the southeast corner. The Lindisfarne Priory (and tourist-oriented village) is at the southwest end, and we spent a couple of hours going through the ruins and looking around the little museum.

When we continued on, it was to complete our drive to Durham, where Steph had booked us into a bed & breakfast. We had a little map and pretty clear directions, but the area turned out to be quite confusing (basically two street names for opposite sides of the same street) and we drove past it twice before finally parking and finding it on foot. It turned out to be a lovely place with a comfortable room on the ground floor with two twin beds for Brian and me. Before dinner we shared some of Steve Billow’s abandoned Famous Grouse in the B&B’s back yard, looking out towards the cathedral and down towards a cricket game in progress.

At dinner time we wandered downtown to find a restaurant. The downtown area was full of young Durhamians in Saturday night finery (i.e., the girls as skimpy as the chilly weather would allow, boys wearing jackets to put around girls) and a few policemen were casually keeping a weather eye on the crowds. Stephanie spied a nearly-concealed restaurant sign and we followed doubtfully down an alley and down some steps, where we found a surprisingly large and surprisingly good Italian restaurant.

Sunday morning dawned without the forecasted rain. Indeed, the sun came out later in the morning and we had a beautiful day. We started it off with our first massive English B&B breakfast. Bruce & Steph set out to catch Matins at the cathedral. Brian and I, not so single-mindedly committed to devoting the day to the church, wandered downtown again where we found the Durham Summer Festival in full swing. We watched a history market being set up in the Market Place–a leather worker, scrivener, an apothecary, and a very uninterested-looking donkey in an impromptu stall set up against the wall of the Church of St. Nicholas–and then walked into the Town Hall, where some designers were exhibiting and selling metal-, glass- and woodwork, as well as ceramics, chocolate, etc.. Finally, we walked up to the Palace Green outside the cathedral, where a huge tent housed a gift and craft show, and smaller external tents housed an Anglo Saxon encampment. In one corner, a fenced-off area held some 20 falcons, hawks and owls, blinking on perches and spreading their wings to catch the sun.

At 11:15, we went into the cathedral to attend the Communion service. Given the immense size of the place almost any normal congregation would have seemed small. This one probably numbered a couple of hundred. The choir of boys and men did a nice job of the familiar Byrd Mass for 5 voices, but didn’t sing a motet or anthem. All the same, it was great to hear music in the cathedral’s wonderful acoustics — inspirational, even.

After the service we were looking around the church, considering whether or not to go for coffee in the Priory Hall, when Brian pointed out we were missing the falconry display outside. We hurried out, and were in time to see a hawk flying through a line of people, under their arched arms. Following that, a falcon gave a breathtaking display of diving hunting speed, rushing over our heads at the lure being swung by the birds’ trainer, and an owld showed off its beautiful, nearly silent flight. To close the show, a turkey vulture walked around hunting hamburger under overturned cups and harassing the trainer’s assistant. In short, all a lot of fun.

After the display ended we were all hungry for lunch, so we headed back to the cathedral’s cloister and found its small, busy cafeteria. We didn’t have a lot of time before the 3:30 evensong, so we stayed on the church grounds, marvelling at the stained glass and the impressive ceilings. For the evensong we sat in the choir, that is, behind the altar, under the organ pipes, and next to the choir.

Back at the B&B, we finished off the Famous Growse and then walked down the street for an excellent fixed dinner for four at an Indian Restaurant.

Ok, that’s enough. If you’re still with me, I’ll try and get Monday’s details down some other time. And (sigh) I guess I should talk about today, too!

2002 07 09 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Monday, July 8, 2002

Location: Manor Farm Bed & Breakfast, Sutton-upon-Dorwent, Yorkshire

Weather: Grey

Just a quick note to keep track of the passing time. Hopefully I’ll have some time to come back and fill in some details. Let’s see:

Saturday: a drive with Bruce, Stephanie and Brian from Edinburgh to Lindisfarne on the Holy Isle, and onward to a little B&B in downtown Durham, on the top of a hill with a nice garden and a view of the cathedral. Dinner in an Italian restaurant down by the river.

Sunday: Diem de deum, or something. Up to the cathedral for morning mass, then watching a falconry demonstration before a cafe lunch, then back to church for Evensong. An excellent Indian restaurant for dinner.

Today: driving to Ripon, looking around the church, then fixing a flat tire and buying a new replacement. Picnic lunch outside the entrance to the Fountains Abbey. Finally on to York for the B&B and a pub dinner.

Aphorisms of the day: “Don’t drive on the curb.” and “Get off the fucking moterway.”

2002 07 08 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

I finished off Dave Barry’s first novel, Big Trouble, sitting in the main downtown park in Edinburgh, Scotland, on a rare sunny afternoon in July. As a vacation book, it met the necessary criteria admirably: it was entertaining, it didn’t require many brain cells to fire, and it wasn’t too long. It was not, by any stretch, a great book. 2 out of 5.

2002 07 05 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink

Friday, July 5, 2002

Location: easyInternetCafe, Edinburgh

Weather: Sunny for most of the day, now high cloud.

The last day of the first choir tour!

The french restaurant didn’t work out yesterday (we didn’t have a reservation, they were petite, and fully booked) and we wandered for quite a while before finding something (a) open, (b) with an appealing menu, and (c) not full. This proved difficult, but we eventually came across a new wine bar restaurant named “Grape”, occupying a renovated bank space (very high ceilings, so no smoke smells) with a simple, tasty menu. I had an uninspired pesto chicken penne (very short on pesto, undercooked penne, but lots of chicken and pine nuts at least) and a large glass of an extremely delicious cabernet sauvignon/malbec.

After dinner we rambled back to the hotel, but I broke off to go to a bank machine and got distracted by an extremely beautiful sunset lighting up the sky to the north. I wandered around taking pictures for a little while, then got back to business, got my money and headed home. Back in the hotel we had an impromptu party in Craig and Susan’s room involving a bottle of gin, then I turned in to get some rest.

This morning was generally lazy until about 11, when I left to make my way up to St. Giles for our warmup at 11:30. I stopped en route at the internet cafe (unlimited use for a week) so I had to walk quite swiftly over the north bridge and up the hill to the cathedral, but the warmup started a few minutes late anyway so it wasn’t an issue. St. Giles turned out to be dark and atmospheric inside, quite lovely, with an unusual layout: the altar, choir stalls and organ were situated in the centre of the church at right angles to the main body, so that our audience sat on our left and right rather than in front of us. The acoustic, though, was excellent: both responsive, letting us here the other parts easily and not too cluttered, but also (from the larger open spaces beyond the choir) reverberant and rewarding when we got loud. We had one of our best concerts of the trip, ending on a high point.

After the concert we wandered down the Royal Mile to a bar restaurant with an few outdoor tables, which we quickly occupied. It wasn’t directly in the sun, but we enjoyed being outdoors and not freezing for a change. I had a lovely pint of Belhaven, a local cream ale, and a chicken pot pie topped by a completely excessive amount of puff pastry. After lunch I followed Bruce & Mary on an ill-fated expedition to find a deep-fried Mars bar — the shop was closed, possibly by the health inspector — and then poked around an extravagantly expensive map store before heading to the National Gallery with Anne, which turned out to be the destination for many of the rest of our group as well.

After a couple of hours in the Gallery we were kicked out (it closed abruptly at 5) and went and sat in the sun in the park, reading books. Eventually the clouds rolled in and we gave up and started to go back to the hotel. I split off partway to come back and make a final diary entry from Edinburgh.

Our final group activity is our farewell dinner tonight in the hotel. Tomorrow morning about half of the choir head back to Toronto while the rest of us split up to various destinations in Scotland and England. I’m headed to Durham, thence to York, with Bruce, Steph and Brian. Next Wednesday I head down to London, and Thursday I’m off to Russia!

2002 07 05 tom Uncategorized Comments (0) Permalink