5/13
Saunders Island
Due to fog, we are stranded here for another day. We're suppose to leave the Falklands tomorrow.
Best Case Scenario: Leave wicked early tomorrow to catch our plane at Mt. Pleasant
Medium Case Scenario: Leave Wednesday for where-ever. Maybe London.
Worst Case Scenario: Leave a week from tomorrow.
We've resorted to watching Spiderman 2 and 3. Not only are they horrible, they bring up too many bad memories of high school. The last thing I want to dwell on when I'm stuck on a remote island. The only thing keeping me watching is the fact I'm dying to watch a movie. Like MST3k or The Life Aquatic.
5/14
Departed Saunders by small fishing boat to Cove Hill located on mainland West Falkland. Hired a ride from Cove Hill to Port Howard.
5/15
This inn looks like a grandmother's wet dream. I was relieved when we got here when I found they had the entire James Bond collection on video and they had a leg of mutton in the oven waiting for us. We had that, baked beans, and red wine for dinner. Other than missing our flight and not being in any America, this is pretty ok.
Now the fun part. Today we are either taking a FIGAS plane back to Stanley or a ferry followed by a taxi. Hopefully the former and not the later. Either way we will end up in Stanley, back at the Lookout Lodge, tonight. We will most likely stay there until Saturday. Arrive back in NYC a week from tomorrow. I don't want to spend my birthday in Stanley but I shouldn't complain. Andy spent his stranded on Saunders. I just can't wait to get home. I'll have more control over my life I feel.
Picked up by a FIGAS plane back to Stanley with a pit stop in Chartes.
Back home in Room 57. Still sick as a dog from that horrible flight. It was a double whammy of air sickness and a panic attack. I'm dizzy just sitting up.
I'm now really upset I didn't fix my watch battery. I hate walking down two hallways to see what time it is.
I miss my friends a lot. It breaks my heart thinking I won't see them on my birthday. Next time I go on vacation I'm gonna go somewhere else like Disneyland or Maui or something.
5/18
The food is getting worse. I'm eating less and sleeping more. The need to get home grows stronger, most recently due to an e-mail from a professor scolding me about not getting back when I said I would.
We've been working for the past two days at the Falkland Islands Television studio. They have been lifting my spirits. There's only three employees- Liz, Paula and Mark. There's also Paula's husband Steven who works for Stanley Services who owns the station. They are new to video production so we've been happy to lend a hand. I even did a voice over for a segment on new books at the library. Too adorable.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
From the End of the World to Your Town Part I
Edited from the personal journal of TKS. The local time for both Chile and the Falkland Islands (excluding Saunders Island) is an hour ahead of Eastern Standard Time. Departed on 5/5/11 from JFK International New York, NY. Arrived in Santiago, Chile on the morning of the 6th.
5/6
Staying at the Hotel Orly. What a city. Very European and because of the fog and cold conditions, it reminds me of Boston. A tropical Newbury Street.
5/7
Departed Santiago, Chile for Punta Arenas, Chile.
Left early in the morning. Sun wasn’t even out yet which isn’t saying much because the sun finally came out around 8:30. Dreamt of learning Spanish and Napoleon.
It’s always hard collecting my thoughts on trips like these. Too caught up. I did escape Boston at the best possible time. I was deep in despair and now I am all kinds of excited about life.
Departed Punta Arena, Chile for Mt. Pleasant, Falkland Islands. Shuttled from Mt. Pleasant to the capital of Stanley.
Staying at the Lookout Lodge. This is less of the cozy/rustic accommodations I was expecting and is more, in fact, like a sparse summer camp. It’s either well before 9 pm or well after since I fell asleep right after our windy nighttime stroll around the town. I don’t have much energy to head back out to the Victory Pub. Also my room perpetually makes it sound like there’s a hurricane outside.
Where the hell am I? Why do my hands still smell like home?
5/8
Another weird series of dreams including the Sea Camps, the Mormon church, James Bond movies, and meat sauce. Most of it dealt with fear and uncertainty. There was also a party in this now reoccurring dream Cape bay-side motel.
Great Sunday morning here so far. They serve hot breakfast around 11. Thick slices of bacon, rice, cereal and instant coffee that isn’t too horrible. No newspaper, though. Then again if there was one, it would have to come on one of the few flights that arrive here each week. BBC and BFBS radio however. It’s bright outside and yet it’s awkwardly raining/hailing/snowing. Feels like home.
5/9
Last night went to the Globe Pub and got significantly trashed. I sang karaoke, got in a shirtless dance-off and was knocked down and piled upon twice. All in a night’s work for an International Idiot.
Today had a great lunch with Jamie [the other cameraman] at the Malvina House Hotel. Killer fish and chips. Discussed filmmaking, Hit and Run History, and the interview we just did for the Falkland Island Radio Service. Then a jaunty hike across godless terrain to the old Pembroke Lighthouse, the eastern most point in the country. The sheer beauty was worth the trek back in the rain.
Although exhausted, I had to keep walking around Stanley proper in order to acquire a pair of boots for our trip to Saunders Island. After an hour of searching for a 20 pound note and getting lost on the five freaking streets here, I got a pair of brown work boots at Pandora’s Box- an interesting store that sells shoes, baby items, toys, women’s underwear, and condoms.
5/10
Departed from Stanley Airport west to Saunders Island.
Sweet shit I just had the most amazing bath of my life that I think I’m going to throw up.
This house has no name. It is situated at the end of the Pole-Evans’ settlement. Horses, sheep, geese, dogs, cats. Haven’t seen cows yet but we have fresh milk so they’re somewhere.
The horses come right up to the windows and are breathtaking. Feeds into my wild side. Apparently, this whole island is what I dream of all day. This whole trip I’ve felt one part Hemmingway and one part Charlie Chaplin. Maybe two parts Chaplin.
We arrived here mid-morning on a twin-engine pond hopper. The clouds were high so we flew low. I was still miserable from the night before so I promptly opened the whiskey. We listened to ourselves constantly being played on the radio. Sparse meals filled us and we were grateful. I heard a cover of “Skinny Love” by a 14-year-old girl on the radio and cried.
Before I knew it, I was out like a light. The crew explored and visited penguins while I dreamt of Fenway Park, Harry Nilsson, concerts, forgotten friends from elementary school and pro wrestling.
My head is heavy and dizzy. I think of the Academy and it tears me up inside. I don’t exactly know where I’m gonna end up when I get home. I just hope wherever I end, someone is holding me.
5/11
Took a ride on a Defender across the island, bound for the Neck- a beach filled with penguins.
Drunk. Homesick. Disgruntled. Tired. Saw a shitton of penguins.
5/12
Went down to Brett’s Harbor on the nicest day of this entire trip. Completely still, only a soft breeze. Sunny. Mild like Cape Cod in late spring. Got the closest I could get to sheep. I shouldn’t complain because I got to pet one back in Stanley. I was content just to sit on the shore and make tapes. As happy as I am, I’m still kinda homesick.
5/6
Staying at the Hotel Orly. What a city. Very European and because of the fog and cold conditions, it reminds me of Boston. A tropical Newbury Street.
5/7
Departed Santiago, Chile for Punta Arenas, Chile.
Left early in the morning. Sun wasn’t even out yet which isn’t saying much because the sun finally came out around 8:30. Dreamt of learning Spanish and Napoleon.
It’s always hard collecting my thoughts on trips like these. Too caught up. I did escape Boston at the best possible time. I was deep in despair and now I am all kinds of excited about life.
Departed Punta Arena, Chile for Mt. Pleasant, Falkland Islands. Shuttled from Mt. Pleasant to the capital of Stanley.
Staying at the Lookout Lodge. This is less of the cozy/rustic accommodations I was expecting and is more, in fact, like a sparse summer camp. It’s either well before 9 pm or well after since I fell asleep right after our windy nighttime stroll around the town. I don’t have much energy to head back out to the Victory Pub. Also my room perpetually makes it sound like there’s a hurricane outside.
Where the hell am I? Why do my hands still smell like home?
5/8
Another weird series of dreams including the Sea Camps, the Mormon church, James Bond movies, and meat sauce. Most of it dealt with fear and uncertainty. There was also a party in this now reoccurring dream Cape bay-side motel.
Great Sunday morning here so far. They serve hot breakfast around 11. Thick slices of bacon, rice, cereal and instant coffee that isn’t too horrible. No newspaper, though. Then again if there was one, it would have to come on one of the few flights that arrive here each week. BBC and BFBS radio however. It’s bright outside and yet it’s awkwardly raining/hailing/snowing. Feels like home.
5/9
Last night went to the Globe Pub and got significantly trashed. I sang karaoke, got in a shirtless dance-off and was knocked down and piled upon twice. All in a night’s work for an International Idiot.
Today had a great lunch with Jamie [the other cameraman] at the Malvina House Hotel. Killer fish and chips. Discussed filmmaking, Hit and Run History, and the interview we just did for the Falkland Island Radio Service. Then a jaunty hike across godless terrain to the old Pembroke Lighthouse, the eastern most point in the country. The sheer beauty was worth the trek back in the rain.
Although exhausted, I had to keep walking around Stanley proper in order to acquire a pair of boots for our trip to Saunders Island. After an hour of searching for a 20 pound note and getting lost on the five freaking streets here, I got a pair of brown work boots at Pandora’s Box- an interesting store that sells shoes, baby items, toys, women’s underwear, and condoms.
5/10
Departed from Stanley Airport west to Saunders Island.
Sweet shit I just had the most amazing bath of my life that I think I’m going to throw up.
This house has no name. It is situated at the end of the Pole-Evans’ settlement. Horses, sheep, geese, dogs, cats. Haven’t seen cows yet but we have fresh milk so they’re somewhere.
The horses come right up to the windows and are breathtaking. Feeds into my wild side. Apparently, this whole island is what I dream of all day. This whole trip I’ve felt one part Hemmingway and one part Charlie Chaplin. Maybe two parts Chaplin.
We arrived here mid-morning on a twin-engine pond hopper. The clouds were high so we flew low. I was still miserable from the night before so I promptly opened the whiskey. We listened to ourselves constantly being played on the radio. Sparse meals filled us and we were grateful. I heard a cover of “Skinny Love” by a 14-year-old girl on the radio and cried.
Before I knew it, I was out like a light. The crew explored and visited penguins while I dreamt of Fenway Park, Harry Nilsson, concerts, forgotten friends from elementary school and pro wrestling.
My head is heavy and dizzy. I think of the Academy and it tears me up inside. I don’t exactly know where I’m gonna end up when I get home. I just hope wherever I end, someone is holding me.
5/11
Took a ride on a Defender across the island, bound for the Neck- a beach filled with penguins.
Drunk. Homesick. Disgruntled. Tired. Saw a shitton of penguins.
5/12
Went down to Brett’s Harbor on the nicest day of this entire trip. Completely still, only a soft breeze. Sunny. Mild like Cape Cod in late spring. Got the closest I could get to sheep. I shouldn’t complain because I got to pet one back in Stanley. I was content just to sit on the shore and make tapes. As happy as I am, I’m still kinda homesick.
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