Jamie's blog

I’m laying down on a grassy knoll that is perched on the top of a sea cliff just out of Pendine in Wales. I’ve taken the path along the coast for a quick stroll and saw this nice little spot just a few yards away.  There are gulls flying over above, the occasional chaff chaffing away.  I’m now facing the sky and listening to the waves thundering against the cliffs and sending spray up in the air, it is high tide and a storm has just passed, their barrage against the cliffs is relentless.  I have a deep sense of contentment that glows inside against the cold wind and light rain.  I am beginning to doze off into a gentle welcomed sleep, I am totally still now, arms splayed out and the waves singing to me, the birds beginning to take flight in my dreams, their song in the local dialect, they are speaking as if with real words.  And then their tone begins to change, it starts to become a little harsher, there is a commotion, a sudden distress.

“Oh, my god!” squawks the bird in a thick Welsh accent.  “Look over there!”  There is a shrill scream.  I am becoming very confused, beginning to wake and not sure why the birds are talking and screaming “It’s a body!”  The birds have turned into children, Suddenly I begin to realise I have fallen asleep, I begin to wake, but I was more asleep than I had realised and it takes some time.  “He’s dead!” says a Child’s young voice still very young, but old enough to go and explore by themselves.    My brain is now almost fully awake but my body is way behind.   I manage to move my head.  Another scream at the added shock of the corpse coming to life.  “I’m not dead!”  “Oh my God!” “I’m not dead, it’s OK, I’m not dead, just having a sleep”

“He’s not dead, he’s saying he’s not dead.”  There is then a pause of contemplation followed by a sudden tone of reprimand.  “Well, you could at least have answered when I shouted at you!”

“Sorry, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m not dead.”

And then with a parting shot “I thought I was going to have to resuscitate you!” And then on they went, their voices fading away into the distance.  It is good to know that the children of Wales are all abled to perform resuscitation when required.  I don’t think I disturbed them too much, I’m sure they see English corpses scattered all over the place.

But I welcomed this short sleep on the sea cliff.  As I said, I had a deep sense of contentment inside and its warmth had made me drowsy and seduced me into a sleep.  We had just done something rather marvellous on the beach just in the bay there.  It was once again an example of being in a special place whilst making something quite spectacular with some simply amazing people, especially those that had volunteered and were embracing the weather sheltering in only their tents.  We had together with those from Aardman and Ed and Will from Sumo Science began to make the largest……

I don’t think I should say yet. 

The Gulp Set

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Trapeze artist

I arrived in Finland with nobody understanding what I was saying.  ”Jamie, you are talking funny.”

I’d just been to a friends wedding in Denmark but other than that was straight out of Yorkshire and had not yet adapted to my foreign twang.  I spent four minutes trying to ask a new Russian collegue “How long has it taken you to get from Moscow?”  He couldn’t understand a word I was saying.

Then a Finnish friend interjected: “How many hours you travel from Moscow?”  He totally got it.  Kimmo who runs the event then gave me yet another lesson in English.  ”Jamie, when you want suger you just look at the person and say “Sugar.”  Forget all this “May I have and please business!  ”Sugar,” That’s all you need to say”

My time in Finland was spent making two lovely ladies flying on their trapeze.  I have to thank the girl in the yellow top for having available such a nice bum for me to copy just at the right moment.  Julie and Victoria are still there swining away.  I miss them dearly.

Jamie

My Girls

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One show sand drawing and Jamie Wardley

This was the task put to us on Tuesday afternoon by Louise at the One Show.  I decided that we could.

One of the biggest challenges was to find a team that was able to do it at such a short notice, but to their credit Andy Firth, James Haigh and Thomas Bolland wangled their other work commitments to come on board and make this drawing in sunny Blackpool.  We were also joined again by pandorA who hadn’t blessed us with her presence on a sand drawing since the RSPB gig last year.

I decided that we would make a portrait of Randy Newman, an American singer and songwriter  who was to be on the One Show the following day, he is very famous from the 70’s but now more well known for writing music scores for animation films such as Toy Story.  Mark who was the One Show Producer kept asking me over the phone, “So do you really think you will be able to finish it by 7pm?”  The poor lad had his doubts, “….and do you really think it will look like Randy Newman?”  There was a little strain in his voice as he struggled to comprehend that this was possible.  “We’ll make it by seven and I think it will look like him.”  I was quietly confident.

One Show Sand Drawing

The following morning we rushed to Blackpool to do a reconnaissance of the beach just before the sea came in.  We would do our measurements for the drawing whilst the beach was still exposed which would be key later in the day so that we could get straight down onto the beach and begin drawing once the tide went back out to make our 7pm deadline.  When you are viewing an image at an angle you have to stretch it in perspective so that it stands up and for this you need to make sure your measurements are correct. For the boffs out there this is called anamorphsis.

After two hours of driving we pulled up to the central pier at Blackpool.  The tide was already in.  We were unable to make our measurements. This was not a good start to the day.

A phone call from Mark: “So it will be finished by 7pm yeagh?”

“Yes.”

Patiently we waited for the tide to subside, waiting for the moment when the sea would reveal some sand and we would fly like rockets.  In the meantime the BBC camera crew of five turned up and we settled a few problems.  At 3pm the sea began to reveal a section of sand, it was time to make our preparations.  Seven o’clock here we come.

James has had enough

At 3:20 there was enough sand for us to do the measurements that we were supposed to do in the morning.  PandorA came by and did her thing.  I hope she is not embarrassed when I say that she is quite amazing.  Totally understated, you would not comprehend her genius if you saw her, but genius she is.  With ease she plotted the image and recorded all the measurements, we are privileged that she was able to join us.  The boys on the ground then began to prepare our gridding system whilst I went to the computer to print off the stretched design.

The printer wasn’t working.  Oh dear.

Oh, it’s not on. Just press the button Mr Wardley.

By 3:50 the grid and our design were all ready. Tom, Andy and I began to draw whilst James raked in the large areas and then finished the lines after we’d drawn them.  It’s an interesting sensation drawing in the sand, there are all the pressures of the camera crew, the incoming tide and the actual project itself, but drawing in the sand is a sensation of tranquillity as you drift off to the place where it is just you and the lines you draw.   I love it.

At 4:30 Mark came down onto the beach from the pier where the image was being viewed.  His whole demeanour had changed and he was beaming with delight, approaching me with a big grin on his face, “It is looking absolutely amazing!”  We were some way from finishing but this was very encouraging as we on the ground had not yet seen the image from above.

Tom Bolland puts the finishing touches to the Randy Newman Sand Drawing for the One Show

“Will you finish it by 7pm?”

“No……  we will finish it by five.”  This sand drawing went very well and we finished it with ease.  After cleaning the image we popped up onto the pier to have a peek at our creation and see what adjustments we had to make.  On looking at it we had to make none.  It worked fine just the way it was and yes I think it did look like dear old Randy Newman as did Randy when he saw it on the show later on.  Thank you Randy Newman for giving us such an interesting face to draw and good luck with your future musical creations!

Again, many thanks to Tom, Andy and James for coming out with me at such a short notice.

Jamie

If you would like to see the one show episode then click the iPlayer link below.  We are at the end of the show!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b010y5lr/The_One_Show_04_05_2011/

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Self Portrait

When I arrived in Rugen Germany a friend of mine Krists Zarins greeted me with a new excellent shovel already sharpened.  This may seem like a small feat, but a sharp fine small shovel is a sand carvers best tool and is pretty hard to find.

This was then added to by the fact that there was a pool just across from where I was living together with a Sauna.

And then just to round it off nicely we were working on a nature reserve and there were deer and hares all about the place.  And the food was great to as long as you weren’t a vegetarian.

It’s hard being a sand sculptor, but someone’s gotta do it.

Jamie

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The Super Lunar moon and the Light Trails. Photographed by Sarah Boocock

I find it is important to look to the future so that we can develop ourselves and project where we want to be in time to come.  But I often feel that this is at the expense of now.  When I look back in the past, I do not remember what I wanted to be and where I wanted to go, I remember what I was, what I was doing, and who I was doing it with.  I remember the moment that was once my present.

The system. Photographed by Thomas Wood

Every moment that we have is unique in itself even in the most subtlest form as it is always different and can never be attained again as the ingredients are never the same.  It may be as defined as twenty people drawing in the sand and the sky with lights under a Super Lunar Moon, or as undefined as a parents young child being another day older.  But these undefined moments are just as important and easy to neglect, they may seem mundane but I do not think they are as before you know it the ingredients that make this moment will no longer exist.

A ball of light in the sky and a drawing in the sand is fleeting, immediately epic and then gone.  But these subtle moments are also epic but deceptive as they are so prolonged.  A child may only be one day older today, but one day he will be a man, and one day that man will have fallen from the earth entirely.

Super Lunar moon and the Electric Brigade. Photographed by Joel Ingham.

The fountains. Photographed by Thomas Wood

These drawings are a representation of cherishing the moment in its most obvious form.  Each stream of light is a person on the beach, each photograph is a person behind a lens.  But when I look at these photographs I remember the laughter of my friends as they moved the lights around on four meter poles, my wet feet, the lighting of a candle to a friend that has departed, the embrace of a friend that had fallen from my consciousness only to return, the jokes that passed over the walkie talkies, the beauty of the night sky, the candle lighting brigade, the fireball that singed hair on legs, the hot dog that was cooked up for everyone before we left the beach, the full moon.

Time is the most precious thing that we have to share and give to each other as one day it will run out.  It expresses itself in the moment in grand and subtle ways.  Enjoy them.

Many thanks to Andy Moss for collaboration on design, and for the drawings themselves Tom bolland, Hannah Bolland, Richard Green, Henri, Thomas Wood, Tim Curtis, Becky Sayers, Jonny Sayers, Rae Owen, Mike Copleston, Ruth, Joel Ingham, Sarah Boocock, Chris Owen and Samantha Yates.

Jamie

The Super Lunar Moon and the cones of light. Photographed by Thomas Wood

Explosions of Light. Photographed by Thomas Wood

The super Lunar Moon and the domes of light. Photographed by Thomas Wood

The super lunar moon and the fire ball. Photographed by Joel Ingham

Fountains of light. Photographed by Joel Ingham

The Triangle. Photographed by Thomas Wood.

One stands still but eight are still moving. Photographed by Sarah Boocock

Waiting. Photographed by Thomas Wood

The four moons. Photographed by Joel Ingham

Super Lunar Moon. Photographed by Thomas Wood

Interaction and bounce. Photographed by Thomas Wood

Nest of Light. Photographed by Joel Ingham

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The snow castle and the moomins

The alarm goes off and I wake up with a start.  The light switch is above my head, I look over the way to where Sergey Tselebrovskiy my room mate is sleeping and say “Lights on.”  The light goes on and Sergey announces “Ghood Mhorning in his thick Russian accent which I am glad to say is beginning to have a hint of Yorkshire now and again.

Sergey Tselebrovskiy

On the first morning that we shared the room Sergey then rolled out of bed and proceeded to undertake some sort of exercise ritual right before my eyes, surprising enough to me as it is usually myself that is doing this, but not as soon as I have woken up.  Astonished I watched on in disbelief through my groggy eyes whilst Sergey began to roll his fingers, then wrists, shoulders, waist, knees ankles with unanticipated agility liveliness.  Not to be outdone I quickly joined in and found myself doing squats, 10 press ups and leg raises.  Since that first morning we have for the last two weeks performed this morning ritual together to wake up our ever more ailing bodies in the morning.  It is like performing the children song “Heads, Knees and toes,” even more so as Sergey is learning English and we say the name of the body part that we are exercising:  “Fingers, hands, elbows, shoulders, waist, knees, ankles,” again the squats the press ups and the leg raises.  All of this is of course done in true style as we are dressed only in our underpants. I feel if tickets were available we would have a very nice sideline.

Uldis Zarins making Wolverine, photograph by sandis

For two weeks now we have been making the hotel and I think it has all come together rather nicely.  I was a little perturbed by our schedule and all of what we had to do in the beginning, but it is a credit to the boys, the girl Sue McGrew, and the planning of Jukka Likealickalot that everything has gone very smoothly.  The theme this year was comics and we have had some fun recreating boyhood heroes even if Uldis from Latvia had pretty much never heard of any of them:  Who is this Joker person?   I have been able to play with my moonwalker or Polygon jib again which is a delight as I’ve been able to enjoy the fresh air and views from it which is a sharp contrast to spending all my time in a freezer as in England.  I must say though, I’m not sure the blizzards, driving wind and extreme temperatures are quite necessary, also, why the jib has to sway and occasionally stop leaving me stranded in the air I do not know.

Jamie carving the moomin with the moonwalker, photograph by Jukka

So we will finish shortly and I will prepare myself for the biggest challenge of all which is getting through the mens sauna party on the opening night alive; the Finnish like to drink.  Last year I was so thoroughly intoxicated that I almost fell asleep in the snow on the way home which is a sure way to meet your maker.  Luckily the chap that had spiked my drink with consent was there to wake me up.  How fortunate I am to have such good friends to take care of me.

Jamie

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Morning Light as the tunnels emerge

As I stepped out of the hotel the blast of cold hit me. The Finnish know how to insulate their homes.  There are no cold drafts seeping in through the windows and you can quite happily walk around in your shorts if you want.  You find yourself getting a false sense of security as usually the temperature in my house in Yorkshire is a sure indication of what it is like outside.  But not in these Lappish countries; do not be fooled I warm you!

I could tell it was going to be cold at breakfast as I saw the trees swaying in the wind through the window.  The temperature was much warmer than yesterday which was -24, but even though it was only -14 today it was with wind and yes the wind really does chill.  I felt it as soon as I stepped out.  I had left my balaclava at the Ice Hotel the previous day and so my face was exposed.  I have deliberately grown a ginger beard to protect me from the touch of Jack Frost but it has been to no avail.  Immediately his hand wiped over my face and left a minute film of ice that I could feel crack when I began to talk to Sergey. Sergey is an old Russian friend of mine and on this occasion my roommate.  He is perhaps one of the best ice sculptors in the world and is able to make sculptures from ice that you simply would not believe, what’s more his skill is matched my his kind gentle nature.  I just class myself as a student out here which suits me fine as learning is one of the virtues of life.  As Sergey and I chatted on our way to work Jack Frost began to pinch my ears, I pulled down my hat, still not satisfied he began to blow his cold breath into my eyes which began to water.  I put up my hood to shield myself.  I know from experience that if I am out too long icicles grow from my watering eyes and impair my already strained vision.

But today I was not to be outside as such.  We walked towards our haven which is the shelter of the Ice Hotel where we are working.  The hotel is embryonic at the moment and just a shell of what it will grow to be.  For now it belongs to us, a series of tunnels and domes that grow every day as the construction team use their big machines to make a myriad of passages reaching off in all directions to reconverge like a vast maze.  It is our job as sculptors to breathe life and identity into these tunnels by making sculptures and decoration, in return the hotel protects us from the blowing wind and snow outside.  I feel privileged that I am able to see it come alive even if the ice hotel does express its growing pains in my aching body, shifting tonnes of ice each day is by no means easy work; especially for someone with my bird arms.

Sue McGrew and Sandis Kondrats

It is however one of the joys of being a sculptor that you are able to be part of the journey where an inanimate object gradually evolves from being nothing to becoming something that is potentially wonderful.  And that the essence of the Ice Hotel, it is after all only snow and ice, yet people come from all around to see it.  They will drink and be merry, they may have a bite to eat in its restaurants and eat off tables made of ice, they may sleep in the rooms there, and they may even get married in the ice chapel that we are yet to make. But before that, today and for the days to come, the ice hotel is growing, and we are here to guide it and enjoy it coming to life.   Jack Frost may cheekily nip my cheeks from time to time, but I will forgive him as it is he after all that keeps it all together.

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I approached the check in desk at Manchester airport with trepidation.  My luggage allowance was 20 kilos with one bag and I had at least 40 kilos with two bags.  I have in the past been charged over £200 for such mistermeaners.

“May I have your passport?” said the chap behind the desk.  I then cracked a joke about how early he must have got up this morning and that I was up at 4:30 am.  “I was also up at that time” he replied, “What, every day?”  I looked upon him with empathy as he nodded; we were now best friends.  I think subconsciously I was trying to hypnotise him as I have been watching too much Derren Brown, we were building ‘rapport’ and he was not totally under my control.  I was tempted to throw in a few suggestive words there as well when I disclosed that I had a second bag with tools in.  He frowned “…..Errrr  One thing I will miss about the UK is that it is so LIGHT, AS it is so dark in Finland.  Luckily I have A warm Feather coat.” The scales did not agree: 20 kilos.

After glancing at the scale he then looked up and at me amiably and smiled. This is not the usual way that people at the check in desk ask you for £200   “Did you know that we have a relaxation lounge?”  I must have looked bemused.  “…..you can go there and escape for a while if you want. Also, you are on Fast Track so you can just pass everyone else and go straight through, no need to wait around.  Have a nice flight Mr Wardley.”  Derren Brown eat your heart out!

The plane was quite late in departing which was a little worrying as I had a connecting flight. I didn’t do the Fast Track thing as I just don’t think I’m quite ready for it yet, far too racy for me.  I also passed on the Relaxation Lounge, there was something a little fishy going on and I wasn’t sure I wanted to chance it just yet.  As I queued in the tunnel to go on the plane I looked at my ticket for my seat number.

1F

Mmm, there must be a mistake.  I had never sat on row one before.  I looked away and then back again.  I could cope with the F as that means I am by the window which is what I asked for.  But I didn’t understand this 1 business.  And then I saw it at the top of the ticket. “Business Class.”  I was for the first time in my life in the elite.

As I turned the corner my throne awaited me.  There were no other people of my status there that flight so I took all the glory myself.  My personal airhostess leaned towards me with a beaming smile:  “Financial Times?”  I have never had anyone offer me anything before in such a want to please way, and the words that came out of her mouth were ‘Financial Times’.  As she did the demonstration I then felt it my duty to watch her, she kept looking over me to make sure I fully understood everything and would occasionally crack a few jokes.  I think she was trying to hypnotise me.

During the flight she offered a silver plate with a blob of some description on it.  I took the lemon scented delight to be something marvellous to put in my mouth.  I took the plate from her and was about to indulge before she pulled back the plate and said “Err, it is for your hands!”  Ah, a hand towel. She then asked me if I wanted an antipasto before my meal and I floundered.   I don’t think it took her long to realise it was my first time.  But to her credit she was not discouraged and continued to hang upon my every whim like my own personal angel.  At one point she said with deep regret “I’m just going into the ‘tourist section’, but if you need me just press the button.”  I made a deliberate slow nod of understanding.

On landing I queued at the door and I and the airhostess had a brief little chit chat about how cold it was in Finland and how much it has snowed.  This became evident when she opened the door.  I gave her a look and didn’t know whether I should embrace with her but thought better of it.  It had been one of my best flights ever and I walked away with a bounce in my step.

Unfortunately, it was a very late best flight and I missed my connection to the north.  She had definitely hypnotised me.

Jamie

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Sitting on the fence on our flooded street

After the great flood and fog of Roermond in Holland had subsided we were able to get back to our nice cold tent and resume ice carving, but not after wading in the freezing water and doing a little game of knock a door run around the floating houses which doesn’t work so well when you are wading through knee deep water in your underpants.

Shaving Rex

Rex was waiting for Rodrego and I with his big menacing drooling head looking all handsome but without a body.  That was to be our task over the next days, lots of hacking at snow and then piling up like bricks and cementing them with water and slush.

In the meantime there was T-Rex’s friend Raptor waiting in his block of ice to be carved and given life.  Been a simple square block of ice, no matter how big doesn’t suit the style of a leaping dinosaur. He was to be screaming at Rex, not happy that he wasn’t going to share his food which was to be a rather unfortunate triceratops still alive but half eaten.  But you have to watch these velociraptors, they are so fast and athletic that even Rex may have problems.

To save time I started to carve Raptor whilst my partner in crime Rodrego Ferrari finished off Rex and gave him some cute little arms.  I had made a design where raptor was in mid-leap twisting towards Rex in a threatening manner.  The tail of this creature is much longer than his body and I was to raise it in the air in a confident and defiant gesture that was to illustrate his balance and grace.  The arc would frame Rex’s face nicely and also had the additional benefit of making our sculpture the highest one in the tent, just piping the transformer Optimus Prime by a foot much to the displeasure of its maker Michael de Kok; which means Michael the cook in English to clear up any ambiguities.

Dinner

Actually making the tail was a totally different matter of course, it looks so easy on paper.  It got a little embarrassing at the amount of scaffolding I had to keep asking for.  “Just a little more please,…….oh, could I have another set on this side,…….do you think we could perhaps have a third level?”  And then when I had to climb up it I must say I felt a little weak in the stomach, I think it was a combination of vertigo and the constant swaying.  It is a daunting feeling when you are five meters up in the air whilst sliding a narrow piece of ice that is almost my body weight onto another small pillar of ice. What’s more, because the tail was so delicate I had to carve in a downward motion which meant I could only look down for the entire day, the scaffolding swaying gently each time i carved the ice.

Placing the Tail

It pretty much took me over a day to make the tail, I could not use the chainsaw as it was so delicate so I had to carefully chisel away gently so that the tail would not sway and break.  After that it was cool running’s and Rodrego joined me for the final hurdle of finishing up, carving like crazy with ice chips flying everywhere.  It is still early days for Rodrego and ice sculpting and he made a comment on how beautiful the sound is of the chisel cutting through the ice and then the crystals falling to the ground was, each one a musical note.  It was indeed one of the things that most mesmerised me when I first started, I must remember not to forget the simple things.

Our pets

Rex and Raptor were eventually finished and we all gathered to celebrate the finishing of the project by banging on the floor with crowbars for two hours to remove patches of ice from the pathway so that nobody slipped.  After that inspired interlude we upped the game to celebrate with our traditional glass of champagne curtosy of our hosts sculpture events.  It is always a great pleasure and honour to share the company of so many talented and wonderful people for the short period of time that we spend together each year and I am very grateful for it.  I salute you my friends!

Jamie

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The boys waiting for the boat to pick them up

Myself and Roders have just been in the freezer tent in Holland making our 4 meter T-rex that is undecided on whether it should freeze or melt as the temperature is fluttering between -2 and +2 C.  As a consequence I as any Englishman of our humid Island can emphasise, was thoroughly damp and cold.  But I was not alone in this resplendent condition; there were 30 other carvers from over the world stood in our damp cloths whilst we waited for the special announcement.

“We have a little bit of a situation” said Huib our director, he is of a typical Dutch disposition with his tall height, blue eyes and fair hair.  But he was not standing tall this moment, he was slumped against the table whilst he addressed us, not defeated, but certainly fatigued. “As you know it has been raining hard,” it was this torrential rain that had been causing the freezer tent to be so warm. “It has been raining so hard that the roads to our houses are totally flooded.”  This was not a good thing to be telling 30 people who were hungry and rank with damp, desperately wanting to eat and shower.  “But although we cannot get there by car we can get there by boat.”  The adventure was about to begin.  “…..this has not happened for ten years.”

With the excitement of an adventure and boat ride we changed our cloths and hurried to the cars, driving down country roads to find our passage.  Awaiting us was a boat to take us to the restaurant on the mariner.  But it then dawned on us that our actual houses would be flooded.  Furthermore, my friend Ludo had left her car beside her house apparently now bathing in water.  I hate to say this Ludo, but I won a bet on the whether the authorities would take your car from the flooded area.  They did not and so I won.  Whilst we ate, Ludo managed to drive her car back from the houses onto dry land through the water, apparently not knowing where the road was as it was immersed.

on the boat

But I reluctantly confess that the Dutch are clever fellows even for a country that is even smaller than my own, rather unfortunate if you consider that they are all so big.  They are so clever in fact that we ate our tea with growing enthusiasm and excitement at what was to come with not even a hint of despair. They are used to water problems with all their dikes and irrigation systems, but they have not stopped there, they have even now built the ultimate defence against the risk of flood, in England we try to control the rivers with our clumsy sand bags, but no, in Holland they just build houses that can never get wet because they simply float.

The floating street, madina oolderhuuske

No, it is not a boat or a boat house, it is a floating house, a house that goes up and down in the water and is attached to a simple pole so that it doesn’t float away; that would be very confusing.  When you are in it you can occasionally feel it bobbing around, it has a concrete base, a chimney, a roof, windows, a front door and a balcony.  In fact, it is not just one or a couple of floating houses, but a whole street, with street lights and plants, playgrounds for kids to play in, and instead of having gnomes in the garden they have ducks of all different types; they seem to be having the last quack.  The only real problem with the floating house is actually getting to it.  But the Dutch come up trumps again and just throw another boat in the equation. But then this has not happened as aforementioned for 10 years and the boat driver is not so accustomed to driving his big boat down narrow watery streets, so you can forgive him for crashing it a couple of times along the way, especially in the ‘hurricane winds’ that are the cause of all the rain.

But we sculptors were not perturbed, quite merry after a few beverages and all ready to test our new sea legs, we rallied upon the boat and then searched for our houses in the dark, scrambling upon our balconies with a cheer from our brethren on the account of not falling in the water and drowning.  But now we are all safe in our floating houses, the rain cannot touch us here.

the flood and the floating house

…..two days later.  The water may not have got us, but the fog has.  We are now stranded in our floating houses as nobody will sail the boat in the fog that descended this morning.  We have one pack of muesli, three bananas and a bottle of single malt whiskey between the four of us.  Now the fun begins.

Rationing in the fog

Jamie

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