Lazy Sunday
St. Patricks day was not crazy enough to explain my lack of keyboard use over the weekend, but it was a lot of fun. In fact, it was almost mellow in a "wow, I've had a few pints but everyone else is WAY drunker then me.." kind of way. We bar hoped for a bit until we found the hostel crew at the Black Bull pub. The Bull is a pretty fun place 'cus it's such a generic pub that you have to make your own fun.
Oh, and I had a "the world is a small place" encounters. It turns out that Mark, our kilted Spanish hero, well his girlfriend is Canadian, and her previous boyfriend was Adam Schnarr, a guy who I went to highscool with. That's right, I've met someone in Edinburgh who not only has herd of Sooke, She's been there!
Speaking of Mark, he's asked me to shoot a picture for the cover of his song "Aberdeen", which he half seriously intends to sell to Aberdeens city council and/or tourist board. I have a few vague ideas of shooting the letter "A" made up from stupid objects, or a bunch of people holding up the letters Aberdeen.
Sunday was a strange day, but it requires a little back story, or at least, a confession:
I have become addicted to F1 racing recently.
It all started when I was living in London, working five days a week, and partying over the weekend. Sunday was recovery day, and the effects of the previous two to three nights antics meant that all one felt like doing was lying on the couch and watching TV. Guess what is on TV on a Sunday at midday? F1 racing. F1, like cricket, is very very complex, and also, like cricket, appears completely boring unless you know what's going on. I'd say it takes about half a season, roughly six or seven races for one to even care who wins. At about race eight interest swings in the other direction. Observations like "Oh, the red car won again", turns into excitement that Rikion was fourth in qualifying with a heavy full load. By race ten or eleven the post race press conference is required viewing. After that watching just the race is not an option, the hour long pre-race show (this, for a nearly two hour long race) is part of the gospel, with highly paid commentators dissecting even the smallest "pit lane rumors" for possibly usefull info. I know the tactical reasons for a one stop vs a two stop strategy's, I hate engine penalties and I still think of Team Honda as B.A.R
I tell you all this in the hope that it may help you understand the reason why I even thought about getting up at seven a.m. on Sunday morning to watch a car race. Which I did. I was even happy that the race was four hours early (due to the fact that it was the Malaysian GP, i.e time difference between Europe and Asia) 'cus I was supposed to work at midday and otherwise would have missed it.
After the race was finished I started to get ready for work, only to discover all my work shirts were still wet. I was running late, underdressed, and out of breath when I reached work. Or the front door anyway. The windows were still shuttered! The door was locked, and no one was there! Little did I know that my boss had been detained by UK Customs due to "issues" with his VISA. I waited twenty mins. until I decided that I had the day off.
I spent most of it split between taking pictures and hanging out in bookstores.
When I got back to the hostel they offered Shannon and I a better room, so we spent part of the evening moving all are stuff. Shan felt a little un-well, so crashed while I tried to watch a British horror movie in the dining room. Five minutes before the end, The Soccer locusts appeared. The Soccer Locusts are eighteen strong troop of 15-18 year olds from Alabama, USA. As you may have guessed, they are over here for a Soccer tournament, and they travel in packs. The older girls have taken full advantage of the UK's more relaxed liquor laws, and thus most of the girls are drunk and are trying to avoid their chaperones at all costs. It was funny to watch the first night, but by day four the sight America's youth running into walls is no longer the highlight of my Sunday. I's rather watch F1.
Wow, if you got this far I'm impressed.
Oh, and I had a "the world is a small place" encounters. It turns out that Mark, our kilted Spanish hero, well his girlfriend is Canadian, and her previous boyfriend was Adam Schnarr, a guy who I went to highscool with. That's right, I've met someone in Edinburgh who not only has herd of Sooke, She's been there!
Speaking of Mark, he's asked me to shoot a picture for the cover of his song "Aberdeen", which he half seriously intends to sell to Aberdeens city council and/or tourist board. I have a few vague ideas of shooting the letter "A" made up from stupid objects, or a bunch of people holding up the letters Aberdeen.
Sunday was a strange day, but it requires a little back story, or at least, a confession:
I have become addicted to F1 racing recently.
It all started when I was living in London, working five days a week, and partying over the weekend. Sunday was recovery day, and the effects of the previous two to three nights antics meant that all one felt like doing was lying on the couch and watching TV. Guess what is on TV on a Sunday at midday? F1 racing. F1, like cricket, is very very complex, and also, like cricket, appears completely boring unless you know what's going on. I'd say it takes about half a season, roughly six or seven races for one to even care who wins. At about race eight interest swings in the other direction. Observations like "Oh, the red car won again", turns into excitement that Rikion was fourth in qualifying with a heavy full load. By race ten or eleven the post race press conference is required viewing. After that watching just the race is not an option, the hour long pre-race show (this, for a nearly two hour long race) is part of the gospel, with highly paid commentators dissecting even the smallest "pit lane rumors" for possibly usefull info. I know the tactical reasons for a one stop vs a two stop strategy's, I hate engine penalties and I still think of Team Honda as B.A.R
I tell you all this in the hope that it may help you understand the reason why I even thought about getting up at seven a.m. on Sunday morning to watch a car race. Which I did. I was even happy that the race was four hours early (due to the fact that it was the Malaysian GP, i.e time difference between Europe and Asia) 'cus I was supposed to work at midday and otherwise would have missed it.
After the race was finished I started to get ready for work, only to discover all my work shirts were still wet. I was running late, underdressed, and out of breath when I reached work. Or the front door anyway. The windows were still shuttered! The door was locked, and no one was there! Little did I know that my boss had been detained by UK Customs due to "issues" with his VISA. I waited twenty mins. until I decided that I had the day off.
I spent most of it split between taking pictures and hanging out in bookstores.
When I got back to the hostel they offered Shannon and I a better room, so we spent part of the evening moving all are stuff. Shan felt a little un-well, so crashed while I tried to watch a British horror movie in the dining room. Five minutes before the end, The Soccer locusts appeared. The Soccer Locusts are eighteen strong troop of 15-18 year olds from Alabama, USA. As you may have guessed, they are over here for a Soccer tournament, and they travel in packs. The older girls have taken full advantage of the UK's more relaxed liquor laws, and thus most of the girls are drunk and are trying to avoid their chaperones at all costs. It was funny to watch the first night, but by day four the sight America's youth running into walls is no longer the highlight of my Sunday. I's rather watch F1.
Wow, if you got this far I'm impressed.
posted by thelastspot at
11:34 PM
2 Comments:
I'll have to check out the F1 races when I next visit Jan Stope--she's a sports addict, so she'll probably know exactly which channel to tune in to and we'll watch it together. UVic Vikes are doing extremely well in a Canadian wide tournament in Toronto--Grandpa O'Dowd is very proud of this of course. Sounds like a good move to a nicer room at your hostel!
By
Anonymous, at March 21, 2006 7:36 AM
they have changed the packaging on mr. noodles. i thought i ought to notify you.
By
Anonymous, at March 23, 2006 4:32 AM
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