Treading the Boards

The weather in Olde London Towne has actually been glorious for the past week and a half, and while most of the daylight hours are spent working, we do try to make the most of the weekends. This past Sunday Brianne and I went down to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre on the south bank of the Thames for their annual free-entry day in honour of the Bard's birthday. Times being what they are, we're always on the lookout for any activity with the word FREE in the title.

We met up around noon with our pals Clare and Jonathan at The Swan, a lovely restaurant we've blogged on before. It's a little bar and brasserie attached to the Globe, offering lovely light fare for theatre patrons and the public. Brianne and Jonathan went for the soup of the day which B always raves about, while I tried a new English traditional dish, a pork pie. Tasty all around, if not the most filling.

We queued up after lunch and entered the Globe Exhibit (something that would've been £8 each any other day, huzzah!). We made our way through halls depicting the history of the Theatre and of Shakespeare, touching on costuming, sets, props, daily life, and the endeavour to build the modern theatre in the first place. Interesting, but a bit dry, and I was glad we were getting it for free. At the end of the educational halls, we came upon an actor portraying the young Shakespeare himself, giving away little prizes for those who could give him a line-reading of his work. Clare and Brianne earned little Globe-themed buttons, a fun trinket.

We made our way into the central gathering area of the exhibit, decked out in bunting with many activities and demonstrations all around. There was an opera singer on one stage and a combat troupe in another corner (not as good, I felt, as our combatant friends back in Toronto).

We poked around in the gift shop for a while, laughing once again at the plush Plague Rat dolls. There was also a video booth area where they were trying to set a world record by having every patron recorded reading two lines of Sonnet 29. All four of us did our part in this attempt.

The highlight of the day came at the very end. We aspiring actors all signed up for a workshop which gave us the chance to recite lines of Shakespeare on the actual stage of the Globe in front of the rest of the patrons! Everyone was given the option of reading from pre-printed excerpts, but we were allowed to perform anything we had from memory. It was an awesome feeling to step forth onto the stage (like every other stage, it felt smaller when you're ON it) and let 'er rip. Brianne did a piece from The Comedy of Errors, while I did a portion of the prologue to Henry V. It was a wonderful thrill to cap the day, dreaming of how great it would be to make such a playful game a reality. One day . . .

When Did This Become A Beauty Contest?

I have a problem: I am not a visible minority. Nor, am I 'at least 5 foot 10 inches' or 'startlingly beautiful.' What does that even mean? Luckily I still have work in theatre right now, but as I look around for future work (preferably Shakespeare in the summer and a large Panto for Christmas) all I can find on public posts are for the following.
1. Looking for Asian woman age range 50-70 to look confused and then happy.
2. For outdoor performance of Midsummer Nights Dream. Helena. Female age 20-30. Must be at least 5 foot 10
3. For Music Video or Promo videoor Feature Film. Gorgeous, Startlingly beautiful girls needed. Modelesque\
4. (My favourite) For television series. Any age range female. Must be ugly or crone like. No pretty girls please.

Damn, if only I wasn't in the mid-range of looks. Here I am, stuck at the absurd height of five foot four and with failry average looks. If only I had been born slightly uglier - I would have the theatre job market set right now. Hmm, I wonder - what if I were to go in and black out some of my teeth, wear a bit of a fat suit and put lots of pimples on - would that help? There's nothing I can do about the height. I tried putting on my tallest pair of heels and even then I barely stand at five foot seven.

As for the startingly beautifyl looks - I tried cutting out a magazine ad and taping it to my face, but I don't think that's what they had in mind with their ad.

The real issue hear is - what if someone who was able to make the works come off the page and was perfect in every single way except for their height; does it really matter? Do people worry about this style of casting when they are hiring Kate Winslet or Angela Lansbury? I can just imagine that casting conversation.

1: Sir, we have Angela Lansbury here for you to see, we thought she would be perfect for the job.
2: Why did you think that?
1: Well, you said you wanted an older actress with lots of umbridge, someone who had a background in song and dance and is comfortable on camera. Someone people would recognize and respect.
2. That's all well and good, but she's too short. Is it possible to dig up Gloria Swanson? I always liked her look....

Supercalifradgalisticexpi...Oh, I Give Up!

As a little treat, Andrew and I went to see Mary Poppins playing in Cardiff. Now, you may ask, 'Why Cardiff?" Well, cause that is where it was playing. It was a simple 3 hour bus ride from London (with the appropriate amount of pick n' mix to snack upon) and then a short treck out to our Bed and Breakfast. Here's the thing: there was a large and very important match going on, so most of the best places were booked up. According to the booking info we should have been at a lovely three star B&B. It was however, barely passable as a one star. Andrew may still cringe at this, but I try and laugh it off as it was only one night. The place was clean but the linen was very thin. The springs on one of our twin beds (yes, some double rooms have twin beds) stuck through the mattress and there were lip stains on the glasses in the bathroom. Definately one of the worst B&B's I have ever been to and anyone who rated it otherwise must have been severely drunk or high.

Luckily it was a lovely day so we went on a little walk around Cardiff. We went to the Red Dragon centre right near the Millenium Theatre where the show would be. There was a bowling alley, a Dr. Who exhibition and several restaurants. We decided on the one that was advertising 2 for 1 fajitas as it had been FOREVER since we had had some. Sitting down to our meal we are greated by a distinctly North American accent. The young man is originally from the U.S but has lived in the U.K for a long time and is wondering what on earth we are doing in Cardiff. Chatting ensues along with the most lovely fajitas I have seen. Bliss. On to walking around the pier and then into the theatre. Cool theatre. One of the best I have ever been into and the seats were perfect. Everything was built with a strong incline so that no matter where you sat you didn't have to worry about some really tall guy sitting in front of you and blocking your view. Right cracking good show, with some amazing special effects and set pieces. I missed the full story line of the Disney film as well as some of the songs that were cut (I love to laugh, sister suffragette) but all in all a good show. Also very cool was that everything was written out in both english and welsh.

The next day we went bowling and I lost amazingly to Andrew. (Several of my balls went into the gutter and I ended up having the gutter ramp put up as by gum i was going to hit some pins! ) Then a quick look around the outside of Cardiff Castle (no time to look around) and onto our bus to go back home. Andrew and I napped most of the way after an awful sleep in the B&B and swearing that we would investigate their star system before booking elsewhere...

Happy Easter!!

Castle in the Rain

Our dear friend Matt hasn't had as much opportunity us to venture beyond the confines of Olde London Towne, and so we were pleased to take a day-trip with him out to Leeds Castle . . . which, of course, is in the county of Kent just an hour south-east of London and NOT in the city of Leeds, UK. That's a mistake you can only make once, because your significant other will have murdered you after schlepping to the wrong place. When we left Victoria Coach Station, the driver made a joke about Brianne fussing over Matt making sure he had his ticket in order, saying "It's not every day you find a mother like that."

Leeds Castle is known as a lady's castle because of it's delicate beauty and fine views. The reputation is well-deserved, it's a lovely place, despite the drizzle that hovered over us all day. The grounds are impeccable and quite expansive, being one of the few tourist castles not to have had it's sizable land encroached upon. There are a great many birds that live amongst the grounds such as ducks, geese, and swans. The black swans are an iconic symbol of the castle itself. We were so pleased to find the little fuzzy one.

In addition to the wild local birds on the grounds, there is also an aviary of tropical birds such as parrots, toucans, and macaws. They also keep a range of birds of prey like owls and vultures. We saw a rather up-close exhibition of these birds, as it was too rainy at the time to have them flying about.

We braved the hedge maze, one of the best I've ever seen. After we all got a bit separated and lost, Matt made it to the centre first and alternately taunted us and guided us to his location. The exit of the maze goes through and underground grotto of mood-lighting, sculptures and sound effects.We also revisited our childhood silliness on the kid's jungle gym. They sure know how to construct them here. A lovely trip despite the rain.

If I Were David Starkey

My little video clip that Andrew and I made in the Isle of Sheppey just as we were wrapping up our ancestral search. I didn't have a script or time to rehearse, but I did ask him to have a second take.

A Wild Night Out In Sheerness

I preface by saying what a wonderful trip it was out to the Isle of Sheppey, what a great thrill it was to delve family roots and search for evidence of the Tucker clan in this corner of the globe. I would recommend our bed-and-breakfast to anyone visiting Sheerness. The only problem is . . . there's really not a whole lot out in Sheerness to go and see. At least there wasn't at this time of year. I imagine that the beach is a popular distination for the residents of the county of Kent in the summertime, but in the pseudo-spring it's a bit too chill to be a real thrill.

Nevertheless, Brianne and I had the will and the drive to give Sheerness a chance for an evening on the town. After our immense trudge all the way the hill to Minster and all the way back down to our digs in Halfway, we rested our weary bones at the B&B before deciding that what we really wanted to do was head back into Sheerness -- which we assumed was the city centre hub of activity because of all it's shops and attractions, whereas Halfway was essentially just an intersection -- and find a decent restaurant to sit down in and then go BOWLING! There's an arcade complex next to the beach which was advertised in it's windows as open from "10 'til close," and we thought a couple frames of bowling would be the perfect essoteric activity for our weekend.

We managed to find out when the bus left the Halfway intersection for Sheerness centre and hopped on, getting in to Sheerness just about dusk. From wandering about the now nearly deserted main streets we discovered two things: 1) The bowling alley was already CLOSED, apparently since about 5pm (on a SATURDAY?!) because it didn't have any official bookings.
2) There is a dearth of sit-down restaurants in town; everything is take-away, and we didn't want that. I guess either no one can afford rent on a space for seats, or they all try to take advantage of beach-going tourists who want to take kebabs and tandoori back to the surf.

So we were stymied. The reasons for coming into town had evaporated. The night was not without it's own "diversion," though. We witnessed a rather harrowing domestic disturbance -- a guy and girl having an absolute bloody-murder screaming fit punctuated with the guy grabbing the girl and shoving her into walls along the street. We were shocked, but continued to observe them from a safe distance after a local shopkeeper had alerted the police, just in case anything really bad went down. We lost sight of them after a time and decided it was time to get out of there. Managed to find out from a bas driver that there were no more buses heading back our way! This was actually just funny to us at this point, and we laughed at the fact that we just had to walk about 30 minutes to get back to Halfway after all of this. On the way out of Sheerness, we just happened to pass the police station -- out in front of which were the fight couple having a tearful make-up session in the presence of a cop! Un-frickin'-believable.

After this whole adventure, we discovered that Halfway seemed to be "The Place" for a sit-down meal, as the Chinese restaurant on the corner was a hive of activity. We had a great meal, picked up night-cap from the corner store, and flopped on the bed back at the B&B to watch the movie The Fifth Element until our eyes wouldn't stay open anymore.

All in all, a grand excursion. I can't wait for our next trip out, which will take us to Leeds Castle this Saturday. We're going with out Aussie flatmate Matt, and I hope it will be fun, despite the fact that the weather reports are a bit foreboding.

Chasing Roots

It’s a magical journey in the simplest of ways to return to a place that you have never been – but where your family once lived. Especially when that place is a town on a different continent and the family that lived there goes back almost 150 years. Yes, I suppose there are a great deal of families that can trace their heritage much further back in time, but for us Canadians going back that far can prove difficult. And so our journey began leaving for Kent on a gloomy Saturday morning from the big bustle that is Victoria station in London. I doubt my ancestors ever had to put up with such noise and populace. It was an hour and a half long journey to get to our connection to get out to the Isle of Sheppey. The journey takes you through the countryside and has a quick stop in Rochester (right in view of the lovely castle in the town centre). Then there is a quick transfer of trains – from ours that had 8 carriages at least to a much smaller and less luxurious one that had 2. The Isle of Sheppey is surrounded by water but it looks to be not much wider than the Ottawa River. Indeed, the Thames at times seems choppier than the waters that connect the Isle to the mainland. Hop off at the final stop and you are in the town of Sheerness, with only a five minute walk to the coastline of the sea. Beautiful. By this time the sun had decided to peer its head out and decided it might have a day out and about. We took a taxi to our Bed and Breakfast which was located at an intersection called Halfway House. My guess is that this intersection was called such as it is almost exactly halfway between the town of Sheerness and that of Minster. It was also a five minute walk away from the cemetery where we had found the names of Francis and Elisabeth Tucker listed. (Yeah for the internet!) Nice clean Bed and Breakfasts always make a difference – and ours was especially nice and appreciated. Almost immediately we set down our bags and made our way to the cemetery. After speaking with one of the men that tends the property, we realised that we only needed to search one section of the cemetery as it was all relatively chronological in its arrangement. The cemetery had opened in 1850 and Francis had passed away in 1871 – that was only 20 years of ground to cover as apposed to the entire place. Andrew and I decided to start at the beginning, splitting ourselves to search a different side of the path. I would be on the right with Andrew on the left, each of us meeting up after completing a section to compare notes. I noted that some plots that were side by side varied in dates from 1860 to 1950 – most likely the plot having been bought and paid for long before being filled. Most graves were marked by a standard headstone set upright and the area around it with a border of stone or marble. In some cases the names and dates were very clear to read which made my job very easy as I need only have a glance and then pass by them. Others had the names worn off in some areas from either weather or the mass amounts of ivy that was growing all over the place. In these cases I would have to balance myself around the headstone, trying not to topple anything to get a closer look at the names or dates, or if there was no headstone at all or it had been buried under earth or toppled or broken then I would have to get on my hands and knees and scrap away at the growth in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the name. The day had become sunny and I had already taken off my extra sweater, so I did not mind at all the idea of searching for ours in this quiet and beautiful cemetery, but after an hour my eyes were tired and needed a rest. So Andrew and I met up and grabbed some snacks to munch on the grass. We had covered about a quarter of the section that we had set out to look over. Certain names we had seen copious amounts of: Boyds, Woods, Tayler.

After a little break we split up again and the search continued. At about forty minutes into it I was under a tree, yanking at some ivy vines that were covering a rather large headstone. A little bird of some variety must have been nesting there because as I pulled the vines apart it fly out at me from the underbush and scared the living daylights out of me. I screamed. And probably swore as well. I am not used to things flying out at me from the ground in a graveyard. At the same time my phone began to ring. It was Andrew on the other side of the graveyard – he had found them. I ran over and he asked if I had been screaming because my phone was ringing – I explained that it was pure coincidence that the two events had happened on top of the other.

This entire time we had thought we would be lucky if there was even a headstone to mark the resting place of my ancestors – boy were we in for a surprise. There, in amongst the simple headstones was the final resting place of Francis, Elizabeth and Charles Tucker. Rather than me describing it I have included a picture of it below. The one on the left with the iron rail around it is the one for Francis, Elisabeth and Charles. The one on the right with an obelisk is for Hannah, Edward and their son Frederick Tucker.

Across the path from them was another large marking – one for Hannah Tucker and her husband and their son. I have no idea of what relation they may have been, but considering the dates and the size of the two memorials, we think there must have been some sort of relation.
We cleaned off what we could and decided to return the following day with some flowers and something to make a rubbing with. For the afternoon we decided to travel up to Minster to see if the family home was still standing. It wasn’t, but the house that would have been their neighbours was still standing, so we took a picture of that instead. Heading to Minster was about 3 miles up hill (in both directions!) and held a great view of the where we had just come from but admittedly there was not much to the town. (A Chinese takeaway, a launderette and a post office.) So back down the hill we went.
I will stop here so that Andrew may have his say of what our adventures were that evening but I will sum up with the remainder of the following morning. We went to pick up flowers and some wax paper and crayons to make a rubbing, spent a bit of time tidying up as best we could around the memorials and took some pictures. We made the rubbing and then set out leisurely for home, having accomplished what we had set out to do. What a great feeling that is.