I was thinking how perfect it would be, a lovely summer's day scootering across Wellington to an audition for the new world choir I have been anxious to try out for, then perhaps a leisurely coffee and lunch somewhere, and later a movie. Sounds great aye, but it was not to be. Perhaps I didn't prepare myself properly for the day!
First mistake was a quick misreading of road signs which, in notoriously badly signed W, could lead one into trouble. It led me on to the Motorway of No Return, miles up north on the way to Porirua.
Finally I managed to illegally cross the road to escape the north flow and retake the traffic south, back to Wadestown in Wellington, where I was supposed to end up. The idea of auditioning was getting less and less attractive, so on taking yet another risky turn, and asking two unassuming pedestrians where I was, and getting vague replies, I managed to recognise some landscape and decided to forego the audition which I already was unsure of, and visit my friend B in the neighborhood. After more enquiries, as she was in a hiddend cul-de-sac too, I found her, and we had a chat about singing. She was very solicitous and diagnosed a possible polyp on my vocal chords, something which she herself had experienced, and she kindly gave me the card of her voice specialist. Thanking her, I left, popped by the St Luke's Church, venue of the world choir, found no-one much there, and justified my non- attendance. I would write them an email later, explaining my absence, I said to myself.
So on to visit the local St Paul's historic church, now defunct, but a tourist destination. The photos describe it better than words. Amazing wooden construction, all original and with a great atmosphere. The tourists had just left when I arrived so I had a few nice quiet moments. Around the corner was the Narional Library and Archives, with the lovely Home Cafe. I dropped in to have a late brunch and read the Saturday papers. It is such a modern and delightful space, with Wifi access, nice people and an Art Gallery as well. A great Saturday morning ro replace my lost audition, I thought.
Browsing through the entertainment section I read of the French movie which won the Palme D'Or at Cannes last year, 'Blue is the warmest Colour'. It looked very interesting and I decided to catch the one showing at the Brooklyn Lighthouse on the hill on the other side of the city. I just had time to make it, so I hurriedly jumped on to my scooter and whizzed through the city feeling a precarious set of glasses in my jacket pocket.
Yes, you got it, after a most brave and OTT sexy movie, (between two women btw), I emerged a bit dazed from the cinema and searched in my jacket for my very necessary glasses case. It was not there! Merde, I thought, in my appropriate French, they've fallen out on the road in my haste, how bloody stupid of me. To make it short, a quick return to Cafe Home, another search on the route to cinema, no glasses anywhere. I really deserve this I thought, when will I ever learn? ...As Bob Dylan sang, or was it The Seekers, Judith Durham was a a Kiwi after all.
So there was was my non-perfect Saturday, hopefully another lesson learned, but an expensive one, as the replacement here in Wellington won't be at all cheap. Was the movie worth it? Well if I've learned a lesson I suppose it was. The movie itself, the tale of an adolescent getting in touch with her sexuality, was amazingly accurate I felt, with well earned awards to both Tunisian director and the two lead actresses, who performed the lesbian sexual feats with great reality and enthusiasm, bordering on the pornographic, but just not getting there. Although I heard the US couldn't quite swallow (sorry!) the X rating enough to include it in the Oscars. Europe, however, embraced it fully, and it won awards all over the place. Certainly a movie worth seeing, for the non-squeamish sexually, I mean. Four Stars!
Amazing ceiling at St Paul's
The Nave
Looking back...
Home Cafe at the National Library
Waiting for coffee..
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