Arrival In Vanuatu

We set out early on Saturday morning for the airport, pausing only to pose with the dragon in the Departures hall and grab some breakfast. A short flight to Auckland and then we boarded Air Vanuatu for our flight to Port Vila.

Our flight was sparsely populated. As you are no doubt aware, Vanuatu was hit by Cyclone Pam in March of this year and is only now back on its feet in terms of tourism. Many of the buildings that were damaged were made with traditional materials, so rebuilding them largely consists of finding the constituent parts and putting them back together. The most obvious damage that still remains is missing tin roofs, which have been replaced with temporary plastic coverings until a new roof can be installed. The damage to the trees was apparent as we flew in to land. Unfortunately there’s not much they can do about that – it’s not economic to harvest the wood, so they’ll just be left to be grown over.

On arrival, it appeared that a full planeload of Aussies had landed minutes before us, so there was quite a queue to get through Immigration. We eventually found our way to the holiday rep, who presented us with a shell lei and a bottle of water. We then boarded a minibus to our resort, with the driver cheerfully explaining as we drove through Port Vila how there were no speed limits, no traffic lights, no drink-drive laws, and precious little else in terms of rules of the road. One group of Kiwis on our bus were amazed at how the steering wheel was on the wrong side of the bus, and they drove on the wrong side of the road!

We checked in and were taken to a “garden view” beach hut which would be our home for the next 7 days. Garden view means “not directly facing the beach” but we’re less than 100m from the beach, so not too concerned.

In the evening we went to the bar for a pre-dinner cocktail (Nicola) and beer (me) – well I was thirsty and wanted to try the local brew. It’s called Tusker, and has the slogan “Bia blong yumi", which means “our beer”, or, more literally, “beer belonging to you and me”. The local language is called Bislama, which is mainly pidgin English with a few other words thrown in.

We’d arrived too late in the evening to order the seafood platter, which had sold out, so settled for a ceviche-style fish salad followed by prawns in chilli & garlic sauce, which was adequate. There is an economic argument for the standard of the food – why cut into your profit margin by providing an outstanding meal, when your audience is largely captive, and your restaurant is full anyway?

Starting during dinner, and continuing afterwards, was a dancing display by Ni-Vanuatu dressed in “traditional” costume. This also involved some audience participation which we chose not to take part in, largely as we were still eating our dinner.

After dinner we went to find our hut in the darkness, and fell asleep to the sound of geckoes chirruping.

Success

It’s non-stop round here, innit? Last night we went to see Success, a new play about, you guessed it, success, at the BATS Theatre. We grabbed a quick pre-theatre dinner at  Muse On Allen, which was unremarkable in its perfection. They know how to do stuff properly there.

Success is a New Zealand play written by Stephen Sinclair, known for his authorship of The Two Towers screenplay in the Lord Of The Rings trilogy. It had its world premiere in Wellington at BATS theatre before transferring to Auckland, and from there, who knows?

The show opens with Carl Evans, played by Jeremy Elwood, doing a stand-up routine, before we cut to the flat and see how life has panned out for his former partners.  He is returning for the first time in four years, and goes to visit his former partners, who are still flatting together in Aro Street. Whilst they still continue to do comedy gigs, one is unemployed otherwise, whilst the other teaches.

Naturally, the reunion is not all that it appears, and whilst at first they try to be friendly, the façade soon wears off and they start telling each other what they really think. It turns out that Carl Evans is on the run from the tabloid press, and the law, in the USA. His history of substance abuse and wild partying are also not endearing him to his former partners…he famously went on the wagon, but less famously fell off it shortly thereafter. One of the flatmates is still bitter about Carl’s alleged theft of material, whilst the other tries to play the peacemaker with varying degrees of success.

Added into the mix is the fact that Carl has an outstanding commitment to play a live, televised gig. He eventually persuades one of his partners to take his place, offering him the chance to make it big (and get paid substantially more than he’s used to getting).

As usually happens in these cases, all the plot lines come together and there is a resolution of sorts. Finally, Carl returns to the stage to give a routine from his new show at some indeterminate time in the future. Clearly playing to a much smaller crowd, and having faced his accuser in the US, he’s now older, and possibly wiser.

Carpe Jugulum

Carpe Jugulum is a play adapted from the Terry Pratchett novel of the same name. It was being performed by the Wellington Repertory Theatre at the Gryphon Theatre.

Dinner first. We met up at Annam, a new-ish Vietnamese restaurant that was formerly Arbitrageur. The dining room has been redecorated in an oriental style, and there is a list of cocktails which evoke the Vietnamese style, in particular their use of coffee and tea as ingredients. I tried a lemon ice tea martini, which contained Earl Grey tea (although I couldn't taste any).

We ordered, sat back, and waited. And waited. After half an hour I asked the waitress what was going on. "It's just coming!" she said and, to be fair, our starters arrived a couple of minutes later. The chicken skewers were tasty, the salt & pepper squid less successful. Hot on the heels of the starters came the main course with barely a minute to breathe. The whole tarakihi was good, but it was a whole fish and eventually it defeated me. The beef salad, I'm told, was fairly average. Overall it was OK but I won't be in a hurry to return.

Then to Gryphon Theatre. This is a small theatre that hosts the Wellington Repertory Company, and Stagecraft (who produced The Cat's Meow last year).

So, how to dramatise Carpe Jugulum? One of the issues with this is that whilst there is a lot of humour in the book, this is mostly in the writing. Similar issues have dogged theatrical TV/film versions of other writers, notably Iain Banks and Douglas Adams. If you strip away the writing, what you're left with is a somewhat complicated, and quite dark, tale of magical and interspecies warfare. The play also presupposed at least some knowledge of the Discworld, and the characters who have appeared in previous books in the series.

With poorly-defined characters, some of whom were hamming it up whilst the others seemed to be playing it straight, a plot that wasn't well explained, and plot device that revolved around a woman with a split personality, most of it failed to work. The Igor limped and lisped his way around, Granny Weatherwax was played way too seriously, and the split personality of Agnes Nitt didn't really make sense either. I'm not sure how they could have done anything about it, either - perhaps they needed a narrator or similar to provide exposition, and work in some of the humour from the writing. As it was it fell short both as a comedy, and as a serious play, probably by trying to be too faithful to the book.

Overall a disappointing evening out, with an average dinner followed by substandard entertainment. Still, onwards and upwards! There's another show to see next week.

A Servant To Two Masters

Another week, another show…we’re so busy these days! Last week I didn’t even get a chance to write about the play we went to see, so here’s a quick recap.

We went for dinner at Capitol beforehand. It was empty when I turned up, but full by the time we left. Last time we were ate at Capitol there was a bit of a mix-up in the kitchen; this time, I think we just had the b-team on duty, as they seemed to take a while over everything, and we barely got out the door in time to get to Circa Theatre. I’m beginning to consider this place a weekend brunch place only.

We then trotted round the corner to Circa Theatre to see A Servant To Two Masters. This has been revived from the original Italian Commedia Dell'arte-inspired 18^th century play Il Servitore Di Due Padroni. Unlike the similar updated revival in London called One Man, Two Guvnors, which is updated to a 20^th century setting, this one retains the 18^th century Venetian setting, although the language and behaviour have been updated.

The basic premise is that Truffaldino, a servant, decides to double his money by working for two masters at the same time. Hilarity ensues. The play involves a lot of knockabout comedy, and Truffaldino is frequently knocked to the floor, from which he rolls up onto his feet again with a quick “I’m OK” to the audience, before continuing on. 

There is much confusion caused by people giving money, letters etc to Truffaldino and saying "it's for your master". This is exacerbated by the fact that he can't read. Eventually all the plot points are resolved, and everyone gets together with the right person.

Science!

She blinded me with science

(She blinded me! With science!)

I'm up in Hawkes Bay at the Eastern Institute of Technology, for a four-day residential course of practical microbiology. "Why?", I hear you ask! Because I am coming towards the end of my first semester course in Microbiology, as part of my diploma in Grape Growing and Winemaking, which I started at the beginning of this year. This first course, being Microbiology, is all about the science of microbes, and so far we've covered such topics as using a microscope and staining a bacterial sample, preparing a number of agar plates in petri dishes to identify and quantify bacterial samples, and identify an unidentified bacterium from a culture. This is proper science stuff! Even if some people call it stamp-collecting. Some people have a similar opinion of physics.

The purpose of the residential course is to familiarise us with the tools of the microbiological trade. Microbiology is a hands-on science, and it is essential that practitioners are able to do the practical aspects. We've been preparing and staining samples to look at under the microscope, measuring bacteria and yeasts, and also measuring growth rates and concentrations of micro-organisms. We've also given presentations on various microbes that we've studied, and taken a practical test which will contribute to our final course mark. We are also taking work away to write up into a formal report on some of the experiments we've done during the week.

I can do science, me.

Eastend Cabaret

Once more unto the breach of the New Zealand Comedy Festival, and on this night we’re off to the Fringe Bar to see Eastend Cabaret, a comedy cabaret duo from London. We went along with a bunch of friends (safety in numbers) as they’re keen on audience participation! This is definitely a gig for grown-ups, too...don't bring your kids unless you like them traumatised.

After a quick dinner at Big Dogs On Blair, we headed round the corner to The Fringe Bar on Allen Street. We were seated in the front row, which made us a little nervous, but fortunately Eastend Cabaret are consummate professionals and don't pick on anyone who isn't really volunteering, and also were selecting their first victims from the back of the room, where Bernadette Byrne chose two strapping young lads on whose back to ride up to the stage.

The show consists of songs, musically accompanied by Victor Victoria,and the usual chat in between. Bernadette is a European chanteuse in the style of Sally Bowles of Cabaret. The songs, however, are proper 21st-century rude, with swearies included.

We managed to avoid most of the audience participation (Bernadette sat on Kris' lap for a bit, that's all. He seemed to enjoy it), and one of the victims was clearly less than pleased to be dragged up on stage, but generally it was actually all quite good-natured. Without giving too much away, there was a centrepiece which involved a stiffie on a stiff, which was quite funny.  

It was all good dirty fun, and a highly enjoyable night out.

Worst. German. Ever.

The New Zealand comedy festival is in full force, and, enticed only by the title, we decided that we would go and see Worst. German. Ever. This is a show by London-living German comedian Paco Erhard, in which he details all the problems about being German in the modern world. Amongst his many gripes are Berlin's hipsters ("like Cuba Street with snow!"), a bigger drain on the German purse than Southern European members of the Euro, apparently. It was whilst delivering his show in Germany that a woman stormed out, declaring him the "worst German ever!", thus giving him the title for his show. "There's some competition for that title, you know, historically" is his comeback. He then told us why Germans are so good at maths and engineering (because they don't want to study history), and how the teaching of the Holocaust at school was possibly overdone. "I know so much about the Holocaust that I could organise one myself! That surely wasn't the point of all that education?"

A very funny hour's worth of comedy, and we left with tears streaming down our faces. Go and see him if you get the chance.