Moving pictures

If I were techier (as opposed to tetchier than usual, having tried it and failed) you would be able to click on the image above to view the video - but I'm not, so you'll have to follow this link instead. What you will then be treated to is the end result of a quite extraordinary amount of work on the part of two of the guys on the Viet Nam trip, who were up early most mornings out filming, thinking all the time about what would be good material and how they could link it all together, looking for angles and experiences, and hauling around with them an amazingly heavy collection of eye-poppingly expensive gear. So expensive and preciousss, in fact, that when Brendon's feet went out from under him as he negotiated the treacherous algae-slimed concrete path down a steep hillside that had us all slithering, he went down on his elbow to protect the camera he was carrying.

There was blood and dirt and a flap of skin, and afterwards pain and swelling and difficulty, but he kept filming and photographing, and Dean kept eating the insects and stupid fish and braving the torrents of traffic at the big intersection, and now we've got the result. It was an interesting glimpse into the enormous effort it takes to produce something so fleeting, so I'm all the more respectful of what's getting them all excited down in Wellington this afternoon.

It's the big premiere of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey after who knows (somebody will, given the rabidness of Tolkien fans) how much work by how many people over how much time. I read, for instance, that some of the dwarves had to carry 30kg of costume and prosthetics, and then act with/through all that, so perhaps Dean should stop his cheerful whingeing about hauling around Brendon's gear. They're all going to have fun down there today, celebrating the final result, and good for them. Most of the actors have flown here on Air NZ's specially-themed 777 and will be working their way right now along 600m of red carpet towards the Embassy Theatre past an estimated 100,000 fans to see the movie. Can hardly wait, myself.

PS: Like Peter Jackson in many of his movies (but not this one), I have a small cameo in the video, leaping in a sprightly manner off a bank in the background. Did you spot it?

Geegaws and gimcracks

So the physiotherapist said today there's nothing he can do for me. Wait. He said there's nothing more he can do for me. That's better, right? That means that, after nearly 7 months since stupidly, and clumsily, leaping off the back of a moving boat onto the river bank thereby dislocating and fracturing my shoulder, followed by one distinctly non-urgent ambulance ride, half a tank of Entonox, three hours in the tender loving care of the NHS in Norfolk, one doctor's visit, several X-rays, a CT scan, an MRI, two consultations with an orthopaedic surgeon, 20 decreasingly painful sessions with John the physio, and the best part of $700, I'm on my own again. Which is not the same as being back to normal, because the arm is still weak, the range of motion is still restricted and the muscles still ache - but time and normal use should take care of all that. Says John.

As souvenirs go, I've had better. I long ago stopped buying the t-shirts with place-names on the front (is 2008 long ago? Maybe not. But nobody walks the Inca Trail without buying the t-shirt, surely? That's in a separate category entirely) or coffee mugs, stickers and embroidered badges. I don't often buy the other stuff either, apart from a little moonstone dodo from a lovely Mauritian stallholder who invited me and my friend home for dinner, and a patently machine-made and probably synthetic but still warm and cosy "handknitted llama wool cardigan" in Inca patterns from a rather tired-looking but friendly lady in the street on a chilly night in Puno next to Lake Titicaca. Having done so much travelling over the last 10 years (and yet having been to far fewer places than so many people who don't write about it for a living - what are they thinking?) I really couldn't buy souvenirs on each trip and still have room to move in my house.

People do though, all the time: I see them in markets and souvenir shops and at the airport, spending up big on local stuff for themselves and as gifts, and I wonder what will happen to most of it. Op shops, most likely, or the dump. And though it is a waste of resources and no good for the planet, it does of course serve an important purpose economically, and in tourist spots all over the world millions of people depend on the income from making (or importing from China) and selling it all. Aesthetically, though, it would be nice if tourists could be persuaded to buy beautiful, or at least pretty, things that they will actually put to some useful purpose, or genuinely take pleasure from every time they see them; instead of wasting their money on dust-collecting, jokey, junky plastic stuff that they wouldn't normally look at even once back at home. All of which reminds me, soon it will be time to put the tree up...

Hobbit-fever plane to see

The world premiere in Wellington of the first Hobbit movie, An Unexpected Journey, is just a few days away now and excitement is bubbling away very entertainingly. The latest thrill is Air NZ's new livery on a Boeing 777-300, revealed today: the world's biggest graphic ever applied to an aircraft, 73 metres long. The plane is to fly the Auckland - LA - London route and will probably end up being also the world's most-photographed plane once it's been in operation for a few months.

How Ian McKellen, Martin Freeman and the rest feel about seeing their faces so huge and flying through the sky halfway round the world er, there and back again, hasn't been reported yet, but Peter Jackson is very pleased, as well he might be with all this extra publicity. Air NZ has certainly entered into the spirit of things, with their new safety video and all - they're promising that the plane will make a brief appearance "on the red carpet at the premiere" though I'm hoping that's a bit of over-excited exaggeration. There's already a huge hobbit hole and towering Gandalf erected outside the Embassy Theatre - a jumbo jet as well would make dwarves of everybody. Maybe that's the idea.

(Update 28/11: this is what they meant, of course -

)

Anyway, well done Air NZ for entering into the fun; and I really hope I get to fly in that plane at some stage. I've heard that in the amenity packs everyone's given, some of the flight socks are made like hairy hobbit feet. Cool!

Ooh look, here they are:

UPDATE: Is anyone else beginning to feel that perhaps Air NZ is taking things just a smidge too far?

Shaken to bits

Well, I don't want to go to Istanbul now, not since James Bond broke all the tiles by riding someone's motorbike over the roofs of the houses near the Grand Bazaar, and wrecked the market and everything. I suppose we should just be grateful he left the minarets standing. Skyfall was very entertaining throughout its afterwards surprising length, but my goodness there was a lot of smashing and breaking and general destruction. I seem to have become my father, who could never see a car on TV driven over a cliff without muttering, "What a waste of a perfectly good Vauxhall" or sucking in his breath in disapproval when one roared along a beach with salty, rusting seawater spraying up underneath.

All the other Skyfall locations - London, Shanghai, Macau, Scotland - were places I have been, and it was fun to see them on the screen, some of them looking so much more glamorous than they were in reality. Sensible shoes and a backpack are no competition for a slinky gown and tuxedo, of course, but all those aerial nighttime shots of Shanghai really showed off its fantastic buildings to their best; although that flash casino in Macau with the Komodo dragons? Never saw that: it was clearly way beyond the pale for humble travel writers on group famils. Glencoe, though, really is that huge and barren and inhospitable -

As for London, it was fun to see so many familiar places, looking so ordinary: Temple tube station, the Eye, Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery... Leaving aside wondering about the daunting logistics of filming in such busy places, and controlling such quantities of extras, I'm back to the thing about being distracted from the action by the locations. Of course it's a James Bond specialty to film in famous, glamorous places all over the world, but still - all that effort put into the special effects and stunts and so on to convince the viewers that it's all real, and yet so very many of them will have one part of their brains keeping up a running, and distancing, commentary about the scenery: "Look, I've seen that painting, I've driven along the A9, a pigeon crapped on me next to that fountain..."

Seems like a bit of a shame, from the creative angle; but with the first Hobbit movie coming out soon, the trilogy made with such generous tax concessions from our government, we'll be hoping to see a nice boost in tourism income from millions of viewers doing just that: taking notice of the background, and deciding to come here and see it for themselves.

Behind you!

Now of these two volcanoes, which would you pick as being the most troublesome this year, in terms of eruptions, ash clouds, sulphurous fumes and disruption to air traffic and ground activities? The little classic cone, or the big shattered one? Trick question! It's actually the one that's so insignificant from the air that it's skulking under the cloud to the left of the photo.

Here it is, Tongariro, that negligible-looking lump on the left of Ngauruhoe's lovely cone. It erupted this afternoon, surprising all the seismic bods who were giving their attention to Ruapehu, which they had bumped up from alert level green to yellow because the crater lake was causing them concern. They'll no doubt be doing a lot of throat-clearing on the news tonight, feeling a little silly perhaps that they were looking the wrong way.

As this is Tongariro's second hissy fit this year, I know that we're in for diverted flights, reports of ash and sulphur smells from way downwind, and lots of frustrated Alpine Crossing walkers who'll be banned from the mountain, to the regret of local businesses. (They'll remember the date this time: it's a palindrome today - 21.11.12.)

Less v. more

The Year of Getting Rid of Stuff has not been the smoothly continuous event that I originally intended, but today I tackled the garage and jerked us a little closer to a more Zen-like existence. It reminded me of what Kathy said when we were at our homestay in northern Viet Nam on our brilliant World Expeditions tour, that she rather envied the sparse decor of the house, compared to her clutter of possessions at home. And it was: mostly as bare as you see above - barer, in fact, as the table and mat only come out at meal times - with just one small area that had anything non-functional in it, obviously treasures.

We had been a bit apprehensive about the homestay, wondering how uncomfortable it was going to be, but it was perfectly civilised (we were all immensely relieved - literally - to find flush toilets and hot showers, having already encountered some truly alarming squatters on the trip). Those mattresses were on the hard side, but then so were most of the hotel beds: must be a Vietnamese thing. We had pillows and mosquito nets and privacy, it was quiet at night - apart from the 4am rooster and the kittens at dawn - and the food was really delicious.

We didn't realise that it was actually pretty upmarket, as traditional stilt houses go, till we got to the lunch stop on our trekking day and saw a more authentic one: much dimmer and barer, no windows, with instead of a kitchen a concrete pad and an open fire, and of course no flush toilet but a squatter downstairs in a shed. Presumably with income from the tour company, though, they still had their luxuries: the fridge for cold beer, a TV, phone, wardrobe with mirror and even a Nintendo. And again, the food was excellent: a fire, a wok, a casserole, that's all that was needed for a tastier meal than I produce in my kitchen with all its mod cons.

Then we called into another house a bit later, which was barer still, with far fewer amenities. But they made us welcome, and brewed a pot of green tea for us, and told us, through Duke (who took the photos above) that he is 70 and she is 49 - Duke was full of respect for the old man, hearing this - and both still work for their living, as they must - or starve. They did have their own rice thresher downstairs, though, which must have been a source of income for them at harvest time.

I really liked that we got to see real life on that trip, instead of just hotels. Even if it does make me feel as though I'm being smothered by all my possessions (though glad I have a soft sofa to sit on instead of a wooden stool 5cm high).

Zooming out

When I'm in a new country, I always like to get a photo of their flag. No real reason, except to help me remember it, and it's fun to try to snatch it mid-flap. So when I was in northern Viet Nam with World Expeditions and saw this motorbike parked at a viewpoint in Ha Giang province, I snapped it. See how the angle of the bamboo the flag's tied to mirrors the angle of the peak behind it? Entirely accidental.

Of course, I'm not the only person to think of doing this, so Brendon was there too, taking a better one despite his mangled elbow; and Kathy behind me - never my best angle - was recording the moment...

... while further back still, Duke was photographing her photographing us photographing the flag. And each one of us was working, I'll have you know.