And it was AMAZING. Completely satisfied my inner HP nerd. It’s basically a tour of selected sets across two sound stages and an outside lot. You stand in line (right next to the room under the stairs) and are shown into a little cinema where they talk about the show, and then you’re pretty much let loose. You can wander around at your own pace, and take as many photos as you want. I took far far too many.

This is going to sound stupid, but I was surprised at how many details I recognised. It’s surprising how many details your brain takes in! I was also surprised at how small things were. The Great Hall was quite long, but wasn’t as wide as I thought it was. They built it for durability, so there are heavy flagstones from York embedded in the ground, and the tables are SO skinny. I’m not quite sure how they fit people on both sides, and all the fancy meals we saw on the movies. Magic maybe??

The details were phenomenal, all the way through. I seriously couldn’t believe it, objects that might have had only a few seconds screen time were SUPER detailed, and must have had a ridiculous amount of care, time and effort made in their making. Things like the little boar lid pourers that I don’t even remember from the movie. The Hogwarts Crest carved out of stone behind the fireplace – in all the movies they have a fire blazing so you never see the crest! But it’s there, and it’s awesome.

There was a bit of a ‘smaller than I thought’ theme, too. The Gryffindor boys dormitory is tiny. Apparently the beds were built for the tiny 10 year old versions of the actors, and so are quite short. As the actors grew bigger, the beds didn’t. So by the time they were all fully grown in the last movie, they designed all the shots to look like the beds had grown with the boys. The actors are all curled up to fit, and it looks quite natural. Most bizarre!

Another one is the hallway in the Leaky Cauldron is mostly an optical illusion. They wanted it to look like it was fifty feet long without having to build a fifty foot long hallway. So it gets smaller at one end, and it does look longer than it is! Was a bit of a throwback to some of the illusions they had in lotr!

They shared some of their magic, too. Like how they floated the candles (on little wires), how the invisible cloak worked (the inside is lined a super bright green) and all the models of how they designed things before rockin it in cg. Where possible, they used mechanical little robots, rather than cg. Scabbers was a robot, the baby fawkes was, so was buckbeak. There’s a massive Buckbeak that bows in the second lot, and there’s a story about how a few important people from Asia (excuse my ignorance, I don’t know quite where they were from, I missed that part of the story) knew that you were meant to bow to the Hippogriff, so they bowed. Buckbeak bows back, as is custom, and then the fancy people bowed in return. It became an endless cycle, and one of the aides had to ask them to stop the Hippogriff from bowing, because it was their custom to return a bow with a bow and it would be never ending otherwise!

But seriously, loved it. Loved the Weaselys living room, and the potitions class, and all the random props from the Room of Requirement! Loved loved loved Diagon Alley, and Dumbledore’s Office, with all it’s super details sleeping portraits. Loved the Fat Lady portrait, and letters, and the Knightbus. The giant chess pieces, and the outside of Number 4 Privet Drive. Loved all the robotic insights, the Ministry sections, Umbridges office with kitten plates and the massive, massive and amazingly details model they made of the castle + the castle grounds. So. Very. Amazing!

You know what I didn’t love? Butterbeer.

They have a stand in the outside lot where they sell Butterbeer. Turns out Butterbeer is super sweet, tastes a bit like creaming soda, but with melted ice cream. I tried it, and turns out that actually? It tastes pretty gross. There’s the weird sensation of when it rolls across your tongue for the first time, you’re not sure whether to swallow it or spit it out. It’s sweet, and sickly, and pretty disgusting. But, I recognise that your taste buds might be different to mine, so you should try it out for yourself.

I was much more amused by the chocolate frogs in the gift store. Even more so by Berties Every Flavour Beans, which look just like Jelly Belly’s. According to the sign though, it did include some random flavours (grass, pepper, earwax, earthworm, rotten egg, dirt, soap, vomit, sausage etc etc) Fun, right?

It took as a few hours for us to get round (mostly because I wanted to delight in each fun thing, and I did, and it was awesome), but I had a great time! If you’re a Harry Potter fan, and happen to be out this way, hit it up. You won’t be disappointed.

At Snowbombing, it was someone shoving me out of the kitchen with a quite firm “You’re not in control here” that made me say fuck it. At that point I left organising all the people to the wolves and pretty much just went and partied by myself. Drinking all the jager and dancing all the dances made me feel much better about things. It was a good plan, because although I didn’t see at the time (I was quite put out and resentful, actually, that said Chef didn’t appreciate all the organising I’d done, and did so by pointing out my faults) turns out people like doing their own thing in their own time. They were all adults and perfectly capable of organising themselves.

Which is why I was surprised when a friend who came to Snowbombing asked for what weekends I have free. Apparently it’s a surprise, to say “thanks” for organising everything. Except, here is the thing. I HATE surprises. I hate not knowing. Even worse is that I got a few random hints. It’s a group thing, though some people I know will probably be coming. It’s on a Sunday, an afternoon/early evening thing. It’s got some cost involved, apparently. That’s it. My cousin Morf is coming, too. I thought I’d be able to scrounge a few details out of him at least, but he told me that if he gave anything away that I’d have an expectation that he didn’t really want to have responsibility for.

The Elly that likes to be things to be in her sphere of control is really really struggling with being okay about this. I asked for reassurance from Morf that I shouldn’t worry, and that it would all be fine, and he gave it to me in the exact same words that I used to ask. Goober. I’m also a bit too proud to be asking questions and making a fuss. I don’t really want people to know that I’m angsting as something as minor as this. A surprise is meant to be fun, right? I shouldn’t ask all my friends in subtle little ways whether their coming to this thing, and find out through them what ever this surprise is. Except that I did try. I gave up after asking the first friend, realising that if he was in on it, he probably wasn’t going to tell me he was.

In the end I figured I’ll be around friends, whoever they are, that’s enough. I don’t really need to worry about the details, and thinking about it only makes me anxious. Holding on to that one comforting thought, I’ll be with friends, reduced the anxiety so I could move on and not worry about it. It’s just under a week away. I’ll let you know how it goes.

It was pretty fun, actually. It was a day out of work, and was pretty interactive so yeah, I enjoyed it. We covered all sorts. The basics of DR ABC (Danger, Response, (Get Help) Airway, Breathing (call an ambulance) and Circulation). Basically, what to do if you come across someone whose fallen over and is unconscious (that’s the response bit, as in, there is none) and what to do if they are breathing (put them in the recovery position) or not breathing (CPR etc etc). It was pretty ridiculous, because apart from the CPR where they use Annie the Mannequin, the rest of it was done on your fellow course attendees. Pretty good way of getting all up close and personal with strangers, which was unexpected.

Also, turns out that CPR? Harder than I thought. To compress the heart (which is mostly under your sternum in the middle, not way off to the left like I thought. In Braveheart, when they put their hands over their hearts? Yeah, they missed) you have to push down 5-6 centimetres. That’s a lot more than I thought! It’s also really hard work, so I’m hoping that I fingers crossed, am never in a situation when I have to give CPR to someone. Also, apparently you’re not to worry if their bones start making cracking noises, because they might. It might also be an indication that you’re breaking their ribs, but as bones are on the bottom of your priority list, and breathing is that the top, it’s better to do CPR bad and break ribs than not do it.

The best bit I thought was the afternoon, when we covered blood + bandages (well more fun than the burns + seizure sections). There’s a whole list of things you’re meant to go ask as you’re bandaging someone up (AMPLE – Allergies, Medical History, Prescriptions, Last food/liquid, Event History) and that last one, Event History, is where you ask them how they hurt themselves. When you’re all hyped up on a Friday afternoon, you can come up with some pretty mad explanations. How’d I get this glass shard in my forehead? Well I’m a Pirate Captain, and some swashbangling boot-bucket from another ship stabbed me as I swiped his booty! Oh, this bite mark right here? I’m an underwater explorer and this great white didn’t like it when I was trying to explore his mouth. Yeah, you can see how ridiculous it got. Fun, though.

So yes, qualified to preserve lives! Like a boss!

I saw Troilus and Cressida. Except, that it had a twist. The Globe Theatre was doing 37 shows of Shakespeare’s works in 37 different languages by 37 international theatre companies. Woah buddy. I saw Troilus and Cressida in Maori, so it was actually “A Toroihi Raaua Ko Kaahira”. And colour me ridiculously proud to see Maori perform on the stage of Shakespeares Globe. Ti hei mauriora!

I think that’s important to note that I don’t speak Maori. I understood about of quarter of what was being said, but that was clearly more than a fair chunk of the crowd. A Toroihi Raaua Ko Kaahira was both a bit dramatic, but also had it’s hilarious moments. There were a few jokes that I got, and you could tell who else spoke Maori because they cracked up at the same time I did (one joke in particular was after Toroihi and Kaahira had consummated their marriage, and he was all proud, and Kaahira was slightly mocking. I heard the words ‘tane’ and ‘kauri’ and it wasn’t hard to put the rest of it together. I thought it was funny, anyway).

Still, they had scene summaries up so you knew what was going on, but mostly they weren’t necessary. The acting was phenomenal, and even if you didn’t understand the words, it wasn’t hard to see the body language. It was pretty easy follow, especially because we looked up the synopsis on wiki before the show started. It was also pretty amusing to see some familiar (aka, Shortland Street) faces. I have to say, up close on stage suited them much better than anything I’ve ever seen on Shortland Street.

The best bit, though? The best bit was how the whole crowd came together to show their pride at our Maori actors being brilliant. I was surrounded by kiwi accents, and all of them, all of them were expressing pride and amazement at the close of the show. There was a closing haka by the actors, and unsurprisingly there were two haka responses from the crowd. Haka’s are amazing. They are loud, and intimidating, and an immense show of respect, really. I got a little bit teary eyed and felt a little bit homesick. Mostly pride, though. Pride that people from my heritage, with all the sterotypes and colonisation history are here, in the heart of England, on one of the most historical and amazing stages, rocking their culture like nobodies business.

It. Was. Amazing.

So yeah, Number 89 Done!

Note: Our tickets, with their amazing seats (mid gallery, part way around to the left of the stage) was £25 + booking fee. Pretty sweet, aye? The Maori shows are all done, but they’re doing other languages right up until the 9th of June, 2012. If you’re in London, check it out. Seriously, affordable and amazing theatre shows in this amazing building – you won’t find better!

Chur!

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And oh man, was I ever treated to some amazing sets – Fat Boy Slim at an amazing street party (in the rain, with lazers. I partied in a dinosaur costume and it was ridiculous), Dizzie Rascal + Labrinth in a forrest (Dizzie had fireworks, yo! The set was amazing, he played Bonkers twice in the finale cause he didn’t want his set to end!), Example (rocked out to from the heights of some boys shoulders till security decided that it wasn’t safe enough. After that I rocked out barrier side, and oh Example – I hear he’s a bit of a bastard, but music wise he might be rival Frank for my London guy spot!), and of course the brilliant DJ Yoda. DJ Yoda actually blew my mind – I tried to find a clip of his amazing you-tube awesomeness that he played but apparently you need to see him in person. I was barrier side for SubFocus, and high fived their MC. I saw Norman Jay 1600 feet above sea level, in the Austrian Alps! I rocked out to MistaJam in an igloo. AN IGLOO! It. Was. Amazing.

And oh, oh oh oh the snow! It dumped down on our first day, and the third day, and everyday bar the last we were riding some form of fresh, amazing powder. We were out finding fresh tracks, riding off piste, sometimes it was bluebird, sometimes the skies opened up to give us more pow. And it was AMAZING! Best European snow I’ve been on yet.

Add in the costumes (I was an indian, the white rabit, a fox and a dinosaur), the fun times that comes with convincing ten of your mates that yes, they did want to come party with you in Austria, and you get a brilliantly good time. It. Was. Amazing. One of the more fun festivals I’ve ever been to.

I had a great time, a phenomenal time. I was with an amazing group of people who made things like dressing up and rocking out and drinking copious amounts of jager status quo. There was always someone keen to party with, always someone keen to go see this gig with, or ride with. They were a good crew (and there was only a tinsy bit of heckling that time when I didn’t get back till the sun was well up and I couldn’t get myself into the apartment…) and I was seriously glad we all went.

And, just because my drunken point-and-click photos really don’t show you how amazing it was, here are two photos stolen from the Snowbombing Feed (taken by the brilliant Dany North).

Fat Boy Slim at the Fat Boy Slim Street Party

Dizzie Rascal in the Eristoff Forest. See the guy in the indian headdress in the foreground? That’s our crew. At this point I’m pretty sure I’m dancing in a dinosaur costume up the front somewhere.

It really was as amazing as it looks.

Note: Snowbombing happens every year about April – you can book a few months before hand on their site. Costs vary depending on what your doing. Just the basics with no extra’s you’re looking at something like £500 (includes festival ticket + accommodation). For a week that includes the fest ticket, accommodation, both parties, lift tickets, gear for the week and lessons, and you’re looking at the £1000 mark). Doesn’t include flights or food (or all the fancy alcohol you’ll be drinking. No worries, because Jager is especially cheap in Austria…)

Which is why, when the night wound down I was surprised that I had to be someone else’s moral compass, and that annoys me a little. Should I be taking on someone else’s responsibilities, because they seem incapable of doing so by themselves? Correct answer is no. But I wanted to make the effort for my cousin, delight in his shiny new place, have a few drinks, light a few things on fire and generally have an okay time. I would have been content with the drunken handstands on the lawn. Instead the night refused to end there and I spent too many hours in the early morning talking about some very english boys battle axe of a girlfriend. Siiiiigh!

Still, other than the moral compass bit (I am an absolute fucking angel, by the way) it was good night. I got to ride in Z4 with the top down. There was tequila, and jager, and looking at the stars, and pouring bio-diesel on open flames to cause flame columns. There was feeding the dogs lasagna, and talks about sailing in September. I met some lovely english people who might let me come visit their ships at some point. My cousins new place is extremely shiny, and even though I made a fuss about going, I was glad I was there.

Note: Both images of the night stolen from the brilliant Ben Sanchez’s facebook photo feed. Because all the ones Drunk Elly took are blurry and not anywhere near as pretty.

This is what it looked like:

If you ever get a chance to hit up Sauze, do it. It’s brilliant.

Note: We did it with Neilson and thanks to some pretty sweet connections got a nice discount. Without discounts, you’re probably looking at a week with half board, flights, transfers and lift tickets for about £550 per person. Super easy, super amazing. Our rep Mark made everything so easy. There was loads of Neilson apre ski related stuff, a pub crawl on the first night, a ride to France day, the night ride etc etc. If you get the chance, do it.

We poured cheap vodka into our cans of red bull, found some fun tracks on our phones and had our own little party. On my friends doorstep, in the cold.

By the time my friends had come up the street with their circus, making a racket and dancing along, us two had mostly caught them up: the booze was running high + happy and I was already loud and a little bit obnoxious. It was to be a messy messy night. Sure enough the time came where the floor was blurring with the ceiling. I’d reached the point of too much booze, too many drugs, and the little voice in the back of my head was positively demanding that it was time to make the frozen walk home.

I don’t really remember much of the party, I remember there was Moet (I wrote my name + the date on the cork!), and some one tried to cook something deep fried in the oven (we’re a mix of classy hobos, really). I have vague memories of the walk home (and a friend trying to convince me that it was a good idea to meet him in town. I’m not sure my argument against was especially coherent). But of all the fun things I do remember, what I appreciate most is that private little party on the doorstep. Cold, but perfectly merry.

This is definitely what London is right now. A mix of the outrageously ridiculous and the sometimes but not very classy fun times.