Catching Up: Rugby on the French Riviera

Fun fact about me (or sometimes not so fun, depending on their results): I've been a Scotland rugby supporter since the late 1990s, long before I ever visited and fell in love with Scotland, or got engaged and then un-engaged to one of its citizens, or made Edinburgh my second home. And as part of that fandom, I've gone to watch Scotland (along with a couple other teams) in every men's Rugby World Cup since 2011.

So for RWC 2023 in France, I followed the same routine as every previous tournament and booked tickets to a few games over a couple weeks, strategically placed to allow me to travel around a bunch of different parts of the country. But because I had to do all this ticket planning 1.5 - 2 years in advance, by the time the tournament came around, I'd realized that my travel stamina had greatly reduced during lockdown... I can now only stand 7-8 days on the road, max. After that, no matter where I am, or what I'm doing, or how attractive I find the guys in the sporting event I'm watching, I'm perpetually cranky. I don't want to be anywhere in the world but at home with my cats. So I decided to nix the fortnight of games and concentrate my trip on a part of France I hadn't been to before, sold all the tickets I'd bought except Scotland v Tonga in Nice, and set out to enjoy several days on the French Riviera.

Nice

With a sore back from 20+ hours of travel, a 9pm arrival at the hotel the night before, and a forecast including thunderstorms and apocalyptic rain, my first full day in Nice was mostly spent in the hotel, in bed, watching a bunch of Golden Girls episodes for about the 745th time. Ah, well... the middle aged traveler's heart wants what the middle aged traveler's heart wants. Luckily I mustered a little youthful vigor for the next two days, and spent them both out exploring the town. The first day, I just took a wander out to see what was near the hotel with no agenda, and ended up walking in circles, passing by the path that would have taken me back multiple times, completely losing my sense of direction, for hours. Welp. At least I got outdoors.

The second day, I made a real plan and went downtown on a tram. The trams and downtown streets were pretty easy to navigate, so I didn't get lost this time, but also didn't stay there long because it was sunny and sweaty out, and I didn't find anything that was all that appealing to me. I saw a big church and did some random shopping, but mostly just meandered around wondering why Nice is such a sought after luxury destination that sites kept offering me private jets as an option when I looked for flights. Never seen that before! I mean, downtown Nice was fine. It was like any other generic western European city, reminded me a bit of Milan, but with palm trees... that grew there naturally and didn't cause a giant controversy when placed there by an American corporation. Maybe the problem is that I'm much more of a city person than a beach person, and cities aren't really the point on the Riviera. Or given my other travel experiences, maybe I'm just not the right audience for... well, France.

But never mind that! Day four in Nice was rugby day! I'd purposely chosen a hotel away from downtown because it was easy to catch a quick 15 minute tram to the game, but that didn't make it a less busy or annoyingly crowded experience. I enjoyed singing Flower of Scotland, and was surprised to see the Tongans do a haka-like war dance before the game, but loved it nonetheless. I looked it up later, and found out it's called the Sipi Tau, and the current version was written in 1994.

Anyway. Scotland won 45-17 despite their elite ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, even in games where they're the favourite. Tonga's a fun team to watch. And I'm not a sports reporter, so that's pretty much all you're gonna get.

Side note: It occurred to me at some point on this day of rugby that I probably don't understand as much French as I think I do. I'm too out of practice speaking it to put a sentence together, but I can still understand a fair bit when it's spoken (unless it's in a Montréal accent - qu'est-ce que c'est?!), and I get even more when I'm reading and have time to process. So when in France, I always believe that I'm catching enough to know what's going on around me, but realistically... I probably have no idea.

Oh, also, I got asked for directions twice on my first day out wandering in Nice... when I was completely lost and had no business giving anyone directions. This has always happened to me, everywhere I go. The more things change, etc...

Monte Carlo

I used my last full day on the Riviera to take a brief trip over to Monte Carlo, since Monaco was right next door and all. It was much prettier than Nice, and waaaaaaaaaaaay snazzier, but I struggled to find things to occupy the short time I spent there. I'm not much of a gambler, so skipped the famous (or infamous?) casino scene, and I'm not a millionaire, so all the store fronts I passed featuring luxury goods and sports cars were regrettably out of my price range. A Lambo wouldn't fit in my luggage anyway. 

I'm normally happy to just wander and enjoy the scenery, but on the particular (very hot) day I chose to visit, Monte Carlo was hosting a big yacht show that closed off and blocked much of the waterfront. So this photo is a good example of pretty much all the scenery I got to take in. It did make me realize why fancy expensive flights to Nice are such a thing, though -- it's the closest airport to Monaco, which is where all the fancy people actually want to go. 

But as only a wannabe member of the Fancy People Club, after a couple hours in Monte Carlo, not buying a yacht, I had to hop on the hot, crowded train back to Nice, and fly home commercial the day after that. No vie fabuleuse for moi, just la vie avec les chats. 

And honestly? I'm not that mad about it.

Where We Left Off: Adventures in Checked Baggage

Picking up where we left off in my last pre-break post from Riga airport...

I ended that snowy Saturday in March 2023 huddled in my rented flat in Edinburgh, wearing every stitch of dirty clothes I had on me, because the place was colder than a jilted polar bear's shoulder, and my luggage was somewhere in Germany.

It all started with the snow bucketing down in Riga, which meant my plane took off over an hour later than scheduled, set to land in Frankfurt at the exact time my connecting flight was taking off. So I paid too much for too slow in-flight wifi to try to get a new booking set before we landed. But because my next plane was also slightly delayed, the airline would only allow me to change my flight after I failed to get off the crowded plane and run from gate A11 to B30 in the 8 minutes I was expected to have for transfer. 

Turned out I had more like 15 minutes, and Bill Nye-level* speedwalking skills, so I just made it on to the plane before the boarding door closed. 

But unfortunately my checked luggage didn't move as quickly as I did.

When I landed, I had a text from the airline that my bag had been rebooked on the first flight in the morning, and I should talk to the staff at my destination to have them deliver it to me upon its arrival. But Edinburgh airport isn't all that big or busy, and the place was practically a ghost town at 8pm on a Saturday. There was nobody working in the baggage hall where my suitcase didn't arrive, no staff at the luggage help desk, no one there representing the airline. So after spending about an hour alternately wandering around looking for anyone wearing a vest from Menzies (the luggage handling company - no luck), and calling the phone number listed for baggage help (which just rang and rang 63 times, every time I tried), I gave up. 

Luckily Edinburgh's my second home and I could stock up on all the sundries and accoutrements I'd need to live there for a few days within the allotted time of a game show shopping spree. But not at 9-10pm on a Saturday night. So I grabbed a couple essentials from airport shops, and headed out to the aforementioned ice-cold flat, to complain out loud to no one for a couple hours as I waited for the radiators to kick in so I could finally get some sleep. 

Meanwhile, Lufthansa was really great with providing me details about the flight my bag was on and when it was arriving, which was useful, since at this point my only option was to go back and try to collect it myself. So the next morning, I did enough shopping to get me through the day, then headed back to the airport, arriving right as the plane with my luggage was landing. If all went to plan, I could grab it quickly and still get to Scotland's Six Nations rugby game that afternoon, which was what had brought me to Embra in the first place.

But what's that saying about human plans and laughing deities? Yeah...

When I arrived, I found a Menzies guy right away, who was really helpful, but told me that even though the bags would be off the plane in 10 minutes, they were so busy and understaffed that it might be an hour or two before anyone would have a chance to get away and bring my bag out to me. So I could either leave and make it to the game that Scotland was likely to lose to Ireland anyway, and spend my evening back at the airport on a wild luggage goose chase, or wait and probably not make it to Murrayfield. I decided to stay put.

There's not much to do or many places to sit in EDI airport, so I drank some coffee, ambled in circles (getting in my steps, yo), and just kind of hung around near the exit of the baggage hall for what felt like 97 hours, until I finally saw the same Menzies guy come out the door pushing a cart overloaded with bags, including mine. I followed him, and when he saw and recognized me, he stopped to get me my case back. 

My bag was on the bottom of the cart, so as he was in the process of unloading to get to it, an older English man in a business suit walked past all the people who were waiting, stepped between me and the baggage guy like I didn't even exist, and started shouting about nobody being at the desk to help him with his lost luggage. Menzies Dude was very apologetic, explained that they had staffing issues, and that he wasn't the person who could get more staff anyway. So English Male Karen (what are they called? Nigel? Colin? I'm going with Colin) yelled the same things a few more times, along with some red-faced demands to see the manager. But there wasn't any management working ('cause duh, it's Scotland on a Sunday!), which set him off even further, and he continued his high-decibel bellyaching for at least 5 more minutes, repeating his list of entitled complaints while all the bystanders stared in disbelief and Baggage Man just looked tired. 

Eventually Colin was satisfied that he'd done enough shrieking, turned, and walked away, with no resolution. Total tantrum, complete embarrassment, accomplished absolutely nothing. Typical Colin behaviour.

When he finally left, I got my bag and thanked the baggage guy profusely, because he really had been super nice and helpful, and should not have had to listen to that jerk's tirade. There's not enough money in the world to pay what people in service industries deserve for putting up with his kind of nonsense.

Anyway. With all the delay, I didn't make it to the game, but I did watch all but the first few minutes on the BBC... Didn't miss much, Scotland lost. I wasn't surprised.

*Not the Science Guy, the Almost Live recurring character, for anyone not familiar with 1990s local Seattle pop culture... which is probably everyone other than me.

Bon Voyage?

I'm currently watching giant snowflakes blow sideways past the window of an airport lounge in Latvia, awaiting my flight to Edinburgh. I started my current travels in London a week ago, cancelled a side trip to Lithuania to stay there longer, and have just spent 3 frozen days in Riga, where I saw my beloved popstar Robbie Williams again. 

But I purposely haven't published anything about any of it because... I don't know, y'all... Maybe the blog is over. Or maybe I'm gonna switch to a substack?

This blog has never had a ton of readers, but it's still been useful to me, because it's been a pretty comprehensive, and easily accessible, travel diary. It is much better at retaining the details of past adventures than my middle aged memory. But when the pandemic put me on a nearly two year forced travel break, my habits got broken. Now I only bother to write about my trips maybe a quarter of the time, and it's rarely in real time. Plus, ever since I left Twitter, I don't get much traffic when I do post stuff, because that was the source of most of the clicks. And I don't have a replacement for that. 

I don't want to lose my own set of travelogues, but it's hard to motivate myself to polish it up for public consumption when there's no public consuming it. So I'm thinking of modernizing, and while it won't fix the nobody reads it excuse to skip writing, at least switching to Substack would make me feel like I'm in the 21st century. And maybe change would be motivation?

So yeah, this may be goodbye to the blog and hello to the newsletter. Or maybe I will just let inertia win and stay here... 

I'll decide soon, but now... I've got a flight to catch. 

21 or 22 (Books and Records) for '21-'22

It's been quite a while since I wrote one of these end-of-the-year-list blogs, so I figured it was time. But also, because everything since March 2020 has blurred together to feel like it's been either 2 weeks or 87 years, or both at the same time, I had to cover more than just 2022.

So here they are, the books and music from the last 2 years that got a thumbs up from me:

Books*

Side Note before I start: To be considered for the list, the book had to have both been published and read by me in '21-'22. I read 124 books over the last two years, many of which were from 2020 or earlier, and bought innumerable new books that I probably will love, but haven't gotten around to reading yet (my to-read pile covers 4 shelves). So there's a bit of luck of the draw built in, and I'll probably read something next month that I wish I'd included, but them's the breaks!

1 - Broken (in the Best Possible Way) by Jenny Lawson 

I love Jenny, and everything she writes. She also picked some of my other faves recently by way of her Fantastic Strangelings Book Club

2 - Broken Horses by Brandi Carlile 

I'm too old to call myself a Brandi stan, but...

3 - The Witch's Heart by Genevieve Gornichec 

A novel telling norse myths from a completely different perspective, loved it

4 - The Final Revival of Opal & Nev by Dawnie Walton 

Excellent novel for music nerds like me

 5 - The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot by Marianne Cronin 

All I can say is 😭😭... But in a good way

6 - The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson 

Love me a multi-generational novel 

7 - Not "A Nation of Immigrants": Settler Colonialism, White Supremacy, and a History of Erasure and Exclusion by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz 

I remain a sociologist and history fan at heart. All of Roxanne's books are both super informative and engaging

 8 - The Ugly Cry by Danielle Henderson 

Best memoir I read this year

 9 - Olga Dies Dreaming by Xóchitl González 

A novel about two siblings in NY that sucked me right in

Records

10 - Ani DiFranco - Revolutionary Love

11 - Juliana Hatfield - Blood

12 - Lil Nas X - MONTERO

One of the greatest pop records ever, but you already know that

13 - dvsn & Ty Dolla $ign - Cheers to the Best Memories

Honorable mention to dvsn's 2022 offering, Working on my Karma, but this one edged it out for the list. Also A Muse in Her Feelings from 2020 remains on high rotation for me

14 - The Halluci Nation - One More Saturday Night

I absolutely love everything from The Halluci Nation (formerly known as A Tribe Called Red). The combination of EDM, Native traditional music, and activism may not be for everyone, but it is absolutely for me.

15 - Admiral Fallow - The Idea of You

16 - Frank Turner - FTHC

I think this may be Frank's rockingest, punkest, and most emotionally raw album ever. I know that sounds odd, but the combination is incredible

17 - Lizzo - Special

So what if this is on EVERYONE's 2022 list? It's an undeniably great album.

18 - Jann Arden - Descendant

19 - Mark Owen - Land of Dreams

Another wonderful (and slightly off-kilter) offering from my second favourite Take That member.

20 - Robbie Williams - XXV

Speaking of favourite Take That members... XXV is Rob's 25th anniversary celebration of his solo career, featuring re-recordings of all his hits with a full orchestra, plus one new song (or more on the deluxe version). So it's not groundbreaking, but it's really good. And any year Rob releases an album is a year that Rob makes my top albums list.

21 / 22 - Brandi Carlile - In These Silent Days / In The Canyon Haze

Not sure if this counts as one or two... The Brandi Carlile Band's epic lockdown album In These Silent Days came out in 2021, and then In The Canyon Haze followed in 2022 with all the same songs, but new, sonically different, recordings. Maybe it's two albums, or maybe the combo makes up one deluxe version? I don't know, but any year Brandi releases an album is a year that she makes my top albums list, sometimes twice.

 

*I'm not going to take the time to add links for all these. If you're reading this, you clearly have access to the internet, so look it up your own self.

Robbie Williams Live in Munich... Again

I only seem to come to Munich for music. My first time here was back in 2013, for my second ever Robbie Williams show, and the last visit was 3 years later for Frightened Rabbit and Paws. This trip much more closely resembled that first one, in that it was also planned for a Robbie show, happened in August, and both times the night before the gig included big thunderstorms. Nobody asked me to marry them this time, though, so it's not exactly deja vu.

Anyway. When Robbie Williams - One Show & One Night Only -- a giant outdoor show for 100,000 people -- was announced, I woke up in the middle of the night to book my Platinum section ticket in the first minutes of the first pre-sale, and hoped Covid calmed its fool self down enough for me to go back to Munich. Since I've seen the city a couple times before, and the show was a bit away from the center of town, I prioritized the gig and booked a hotel that (on the map) was right across the street from the venue: Messe München, which other fans described as like a fairground. So while I figured the actual walk to the concert wouldn't be the 2 minutes that Maps quoted me, I guessed it couldn't be much longer than that, given that I could see the place from my window. 

Per the ticket, the show was supposed to start at 8pm and end at 10:30. But there were 2 openers, and Rob always goes for 1.5 - 2 hours, so I figured it was probably more like a 6:00 start. Since my busted back and knees rebel if I make them stand for more than 3 or 4 hours, and the only opener I'd heard of was Lufthaus (who I love, but they just DJ on stage, and I mean... I could listen to dance records at home), I thought I'd leave just before 6:00 and probably catch 1 1/2 openers with my maybe 10 minutes walk.

Nope.

At the appointed time, I walked down a pathway right outside my hotel door, that was marked for Messe, so I assumed it was just on the other side of the road. After 30 minutes of following the crowds all the way across a much-bigger-than-a-fairground area, past building after building, I finally saw an entrance to the concert venue of this behemoth place. But it was the West Entrance, and my ticket said Ost (East). There was no other gate as far as I could see, and every person around me was going in West, so I just went on in and figured there'd be a way to go in the right entry to the actual concert section inside. No luck. Every sign was West, West, West.

So I gave up looking, bought a t-shirt, got all my wristbands, and walked into my section right about 7pm... as Lufthaus started their 3rd to last song, and the other opening act was long finished. The section was PACKED, almost all the way out to the edge where you couldn't even see the stage. So I thought, if everyone's coming in the West entrance, there's probably way more room on the other side. There's some space along the back barrier (between Platinum and Gold sections), so I'll just go through the crowd and pass on over. By the end of the song, I'd hit a point where there were only 4 or 5 more people in front of me, and then a barrier... guarding the catwalk coming down into the crowd (aka the B stage), which extended past the back fence into the Gold section. I couldn't cross over. So I sheepishly found the nearest open spot that would annoy the fewest of the nice people who arrived earlier than I did.. and inadvertently got myself my closest view of Rob since the tiny Las Vegas theatre, at least when he came down the catwalk. It was the first time I've actually had to turn my entire body to keep watching him move around during a big show, since the larger section at the end of the B stage was behind me. Here's to getting lost?

Side note: I ended up standing next to a mother / daughter pair, who were interviewed and then filmed by a couple of press people right before the show started and during Let Me Entertain You. My lack of German skills limited my ability to eavesdrop, but I gathered they were chosen because the mom was wearing a Robbie concert t-shirt and the daughter had a big sign that said MY MOM IS YOUR #1 BIGGEST FAN. OK, that's cute, but no. #1 BIGGEST FAN? Not a chance. I'm closer to #1 BIGGEST FAN than her, and I'm not anywhere near the top of that list. I mean, I'm not even the #1 Biggest American fan. Although maybe top 5? Gotta be at least top 10. But on the overall, world rankings, I couldn't possibly be higher than like #563 BIGGEST FAN, and this woman wasn't even in the same league as fans I run with. Fake news!

Ahem. Anyway.

The show was incredible as always. I never have the words to say how amazing a Robbie show is, because no matter the venue, or how large or small the crowd, dude knows how to fill the room (or arena, or giant stadium) with his presence. And despite there being 200,000 hands holding up phones in all directions at all times, I got some really good photos of the big man. It's not skill, I'm just lucky to have long arms and a phone that's smart enough to make a picture turn out decently even though I'm waving it wildly in the air with one hand.

Since all RW shows are similar in some ways, with most of the same set list, I best remember the differences. I was really excited that they started the encore with the new single Lost, which I love. I must listen to it a lot, because I realized last night that I already know almost all the words, even though it's only been out a couple of weeks. And it was fun to hear Tripping live, maybe for the first time ever (at least the first I remember). 

Less fun a difference to remember was Rob leaving for a verse or so during She's the One, then coming back to end it and explain that he'd had to go throw up. I get it, buddy, that song makes me feel that way too. (Kidding. Kind of. That song's fine, I just never loved it. And after more than 20 years, I'm beyond sick of hearing it all the time).

But in all seriousness, when he told the crowd what happened, I immediately flipped from fangirl loving Robbie the entertainment machine and never wanting him to leave the stage to being concerned about Rob the person. I just wanted to say, No more songs! It's okay, these people don't need to hear Angels. Just go take care of yourself! Also, despite dark clouds overhead and a weather alert for "heavy and prolonged rain" issued earlier in the day for exactly the hours of the concert, the first drops of the night fell at the end of She's the One, and started to really come down after it ended. But our boy's a pro, so he stayed to sing Angels in the rain, and take a bow with the band before exiting stage right, with the huge crowd singing his song back to him. 

Hopefully all was well with Mr Williams when things calmed down, and it was just the adrenaline of the night hitting him in the stomach -- having 100k people stare at you for 2 hours could make anyone's nerves jangly. Even the world's greatest entertainer.