Hay-On-Wye is sleepy, mossy, thatched, and perfect for splashing through on a chilly day. There are over thirty second-hand bookshops in the tiny village, one of which is inside a Norman castle. We, like hundreds of other from around the world, were drawn there by the Hay Festival. The festival spans over ten days and hosts hundreds of speakers who may be promoting a new book, debating a popular topic, or just lecturing on a cause dear to them. Stephen Fry is a yearly guest!
We had to get up around six in the stupid morning to get to our first event on time. We did catch our train, but it was raining and the train got stopped, so we had to journey by bus, a journey dripping with endless transfers and confused drivers.
So there we were, slowly rolling our way across the Heart of England (I just re-read that, and I've misrepresented the tone of our trip's first leg. We were having so much fun. We drove the rest of the bus crazy trying to harmonize "Ain True Love" from Cold Mountain, which has a really difficult harmony part. And our picnic was really yummy). The countryside is so green right now, it's unbelievable. I have tinted sunglasses, and usually they make my surroundings more colorful, but here? Nope. Can't outdo old Mama Earth in her glory.
Blah blah blah, Hay-On-Wye. So we're there now, we make it in time, we love it, it's full of FULL of full of old books. I bought some of you all really awesome presents there*! The festival was about a ten minute walk outside the village (did you guys know about the many distinctions between towns, villages, and cities? Because everyone here does, and they're happy to correct you). The organizers had built a makeshift... hamlet? out of enormous white tents, with open-air passages in between and large garden and lawn space in the middle. Very Grecian, she said pretentiously. We saw two presentations - one was by an author called Oliver Bullough on his new book, the title of which I forget (why am I not just googling it? Seriously, it's so easy... aaaaaaaah, fine, for YOU guys muttermuttermutter IT IS AS FOLLOWS: Just Send Me Word, A True Story of Love and Survival in the Gulag) and the other was a debate between a scientist and a journalist on the role science should be playing in informing the public about global warming/climate change; also, what terminology should be used when discussing it.
The Gulag one was really touching. I'm not ashamed to tattle on Vicky and say that she got a little misty (WHO ME NEVER I AM MADE OF IRON). The book archives the correspondence of Svetlana and Lev, two physicists who met at Moscow University and were growing into friends UNTIL! Lev was accused of being a spy and imprisoned in the Gulag! Listen, guys, calm down. He tracked down Svetlana through sneaky letters to his aunt inquiring about her and they finally started writing directly to one another, continuing to do so for the sixteen years of his imprisonment. The letters are definitely love letters, but since they're both scientists, the way they express it is really quirky and practical. Svetlana was incredible. She kept sending him really elaborate packages, but instead of the typical early romance chocolates and books or whatever, she sent underwear and wool socks. And eventually, herself. She befriended a Soviet officer and visited Lev five times before his release. How does it end? You'll have to read for yourself! Svetlana sounded like Abby (cousin Abby to you DeKalbians); fiercely loyal, very resourceful, smart as hell, full of love.
The debate was aaaaaaah! I don't know who I sided with! Vick loved the really passionate journalist, who was like, "PEOPLE HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW" but British so "PEEP'W HAHV UH ROIT T'NEHW" but the scientist just kept re-iterating that it's unfair to make scientists milk more out of the data than is there, because the job of science is simply to present available information and not to emotionalize it. He made the more valid arguments, but he got screwed in terms of presentation - the journalist was a much better public speaker, more attractive, and seated in the center of the three people onstage, so even his lighting was better. The scientist? Reeeeally monotonous voice. Really, they were sort of debating different things. VERY eloquently. With LOTS of rhetoric.
Dinner at pub, train, guys do cocaine in train bathroom, walk home in pouring rain at midnight, sleep! Wake up! TODAY! The Jubilee!!!! Everyone's been going BONKERS about the Queen's Diamond Jubilee, celebrating her 60-year reign. Preparation has been happening since I arrived three weeks ago. Vick says that since the country's in a recession, the government and media are trying to give them something to get excited about with this and the Olympics. Anyway, maybe you heard about it, but they had this massive flotilla organized with something like a thousand boats flanking the Queen's, and music and fireworks, but it absolutely poured today. Warwick was planning an outdoor barbeque in the Town Centre, which they had to cancel. The proceedings as we saw them on TV were sweetly pathetic. Everyone was miserable, clearly. It's so fitting - part of the hype for the Jubilee has been in the form of red and blue posters saying, "Keep Calm and Carry On," (parodied on t-shirts and mugs with cheeky variations like "Keep Calm and Party On" and "Sod Calm And Get Angry") and that's exactly what everyone did, from crowd to Queen. They just stood there, patiently, in the rain, until the whole thing was over and they could go home.
Not sure what next weekend will bring! Send me news from home, my loves. I'm a little homesick this week.
*Awesomeness of presents is subjective
We had to get up around six in the stupid morning to get to our first event on time. We did catch our train, but it was raining and the train got stopped, so we had to journey by bus, a journey dripping with endless transfers and confused drivers.
So there we were, slowly rolling our way across the Heart of England (I just re-read that, and I've misrepresented the tone of our trip's first leg. We were having so much fun. We drove the rest of the bus crazy trying to harmonize "Ain True Love" from Cold Mountain, which has a really difficult harmony part. And our picnic was really yummy). The countryside is so green right now, it's unbelievable. I have tinted sunglasses, and usually they make my surroundings more colorful, but here? Nope. Can't outdo old Mama Earth in her glory.
Blah blah blah, Hay-On-Wye. So we're there now, we make it in time, we love it, it's full of FULL of full of old books. I bought some of you all really awesome presents there*! The festival was about a ten minute walk outside the village (did you guys know about the many distinctions between towns, villages, and cities? Because everyone here does, and they're happy to correct you). The organizers had built a makeshift... hamlet? out of enormous white tents, with open-air passages in between and large garden and lawn space in the middle. Very Grecian, she said pretentiously. We saw two presentations - one was by an author called Oliver Bullough on his new book, the title of which I forget (why am I not just googling it? Seriously, it's so easy... aaaaaaaah, fine, for YOU guys muttermuttermutter IT IS AS FOLLOWS: Just Send Me Word, A True Story of Love and Survival in the Gulag) and the other was a debate between a scientist and a journalist on the role science should be playing in informing the public about global warming/climate change; also, what terminology should be used when discussing it.
The Gulag one was really touching. I'm not ashamed to tattle on Vicky and say that she got a little misty (WHO ME NEVER I AM MADE OF IRON). The book archives the correspondence of Svetlana and Lev, two physicists who met at Moscow University and were growing into friends UNTIL! Lev was accused of being a spy and imprisoned in the Gulag! Listen, guys, calm down. He tracked down Svetlana through sneaky letters to his aunt inquiring about her and they finally started writing directly to one another, continuing to do so for the sixteen years of his imprisonment. The letters are definitely love letters, but since they're both scientists, the way they express it is really quirky and practical. Svetlana was incredible. She kept sending him really elaborate packages, but instead of the typical early romance chocolates and books or whatever, she sent underwear and wool socks. And eventually, herself. She befriended a Soviet officer and visited Lev five times before his release. How does it end? You'll have to read for yourself! Svetlana sounded like Abby (cousin Abby to you DeKalbians); fiercely loyal, very resourceful, smart as hell, full of love.
The debate was aaaaaaah! I don't know who I sided with! Vick loved the really passionate journalist, who was like, "PEOPLE HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW" but British so "PEEP'W HAHV UH ROIT T'NEHW" but the scientist just kept re-iterating that it's unfair to make scientists milk more out of the data than is there, because the job of science is simply to present available information and not to emotionalize it. He made the more valid arguments, but he got screwed in terms of presentation - the journalist was a much better public speaker, more attractive, and seated in the center of the three people onstage, so even his lighting was better. The scientist? Reeeeally monotonous voice. Really, they were sort of debating different things. VERY eloquently. With LOTS of rhetoric.
Dinner at pub, train, guys do cocaine in train bathroom, walk home in pouring rain at midnight, sleep! Wake up! TODAY! The Jubilee!!!! Everyone's been going BONKERS about the Queen's Diamond Jubilee, celebrating her 60-year reign. Preparation has been happening since I arrived three weeks ago. Vick says that since the country's in a recession, the government and media are trying to give them something to get excited about with this and the Olympics. Anyway, maybe you heard about it, but they had this massive flotilla organized with something like a thousand boats flanking the Queen's, and music and fireworks, but it absolutely poured today. Warwick was planning an outdoor barbeque in the Town Centre, which they had to cancel. The proceedings as we saw them on TV were sweetly pathetic. Everyone was miserable, clearly. It's so fitting - part of the hype for the Jubilee has been in the form of red and blue posters saying, "Keep Calm and Carry On," (parodied on t-shirts and mugs with cheeky variations like "Keep Calm and Party On" and "Sod Calm And Get Angry") and that's exactly what everyone did, from crowd to Queen. They just stood there, patiently, in the rain, until the whole thing was over and they could go home.
Not sure what next weekend will bring! Send me news from home, my loves. I'm a little homesick this week.
*Awesomeness of presents is subjective
Love that description of Abby.
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