At last the writing can begin, currently using the vi editor on a little netbook purchased off Amazon for about 90 bucks. Vi is to save battery space.
Yesterday the journey to Toorcamp began with a trip from Houston to SeaTac, sitting next to a chatty lady who held my hand tightly during the takeoff.
After Seattle, I took an Uber to King County International Airport and checked in for a flight much later. The airport is used by the military as well and I was priviledged to see a Boeing AWACS surveillance plane landing. There are only about 30 or so in use by the USA, so this was an unexpected surprise. The terminal is much smaller than regular, and is used by just one airline. The little cafe inside played a lot of classical piano music and a strangely-abbreviated version of Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto. There I sat as little Caravan airplanes came and went, as well as larger military and UPS jets. At last we boarded the plane, which seats 10, and flew for 40 minutes to an airstrip on Eastsound Island. Where it was 78 and beautiful in Seattle, it was breezy and in the 60s on the island for a possibly even nicer atmosphere.
I'd reserved a taxi ahead, and the driver told me all about his gifted daughter, the history of the island, the sharp divide between the 80% of rich millionaires who make the laws, own most of the land, and forbid the chopping down of any trees, and the 20% of everyone else who cater to the tourists by driving taxis, raising hundreds of thousands of salmon, or other things. The road winds through a state park with glorious views, though unfortunately with no method of transport and insufficient clothing for the rain drizzzzling outside right now, it's unlikely I shall be able to visit it.
At last I arrived. No one was there. A very helpful employee of the Doe Bay Resort where Toorcamp is being held, as well as a helpful Toorcamp staff member, revealed to me that actually everyone is supposed to arrive on Wednesday. Eventually, they showed me to an empty field where time and space would be tortured into twisted shapes, as in the biblical temple courtyard that miraculously held six hundred thousand Jews at once, to be filled with tents of attendees. Having practiced erecting the tent beforehand, it was easier to set it up, and with sunset only at 9:30 PM there was plenty of light to finish and setup the solar lighting, and realize that my organization strategies do not extend beyond carry-on baggage.
It got surprisingly chilly at night and the windbreaker/rain jacket proved handy. After exploring some of the resort area with a headlamp at last it was time to sleep. At once I discovered what it's like to sleep outdoors in 50 degree weather, and spent some time tussling with the sleeping bag like Pooh with his honey jar during the Great Flood when the water came almost to Piglet's window. Additionally, the staff members do not sleep, and much merry-making was made through the late hours of the night.
Yesterday the journey to Toorcamp began with a trip from Houston to SeaTac, sitting next to a chatty lady who held my hand tightly during the takeoff.
After Seattle, I took an Uber to King County International Airport and checked in for a flight much later. The airport is used by the military as well and I was priviledged to see a Boeing AWACS surveillance plane landing. There are only about 30 or so in use by the USA, so this was an unexpected surprise. The terminal is much smaller than regular, and is used by just one airline. The little cafe inside played a lot of classical piano music and a strangely-abbreviated version of Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto. There I sat as little Caravan airplanes came and went, as well as larger military and UPS jets. At last we boarded the plane, which seats 10, and flew for 40 minutes to an airstrip on Eastsound Island. Where it was 78 and beautiful in Seattle, it was breezy and in the 60s on the island for a possibly even nicer atmosphere.
I'd reserved a taxi ahead, and the driver told me all about his gifted daughter, the history of the island, the sharp divide between the 80% of rich millionaires who make the laws, own most of the land, and forbid the chopping down of any trees, and the 20% of everyone else who cater to the tourists by driving taxis, raising hundreds of thousands of salmon, or other things. The road winds through a state park with glorious views, though unfortunately with no method of transport and insufficient clothing for the rain drizzzzling outside right now, it's unlikely I shall be able to visit it.
At last I arrived. No one was there. A very helpful employee of the Doe Bay Resort where Toorcamp is being held, as well as a helpful Toorcamp staff member, revealed to me that actually everyone is supposed to arrive on Wednesday. Eventually, they showed me to an empty field where time and space would be tortured into twisted shapes, as in the biblical temple courtyard that miraculously held six hundred thousand Jews at once, to be filled with tents of attendees. Having practiced erecting the tent beforehand, it was easier to set it up, and with sunset only at 9:30 PM there was plenty of light to finish and setup the solar lighting, and realize that my organization strategies do not extend beyond carry-on baggage.
It got surprisingly chilly at night and the windbreaker/rain jacket proved handy. After exploring some of the resort area with a headlamp at last it was time to sleep. At once I discovered what it's like to sleep outdoors in 50 degree weather, and spent some time tussling with the sleeping bag like Pooh with his honey jar during the Great Flood when the water came almost to Piglet's window. Additionally, the staff members do not sleep, and much merry-making was made through the late hours of the night.
1 comment:
You write well, Osya! Several passages I reread ad laughed with pleasure. Keep it up!
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