Wellington, Day Four, Pt 2

***My readers will remember that at this point in the narrative I am just arriving in the kitchen to make dinner. Alana has been there for a few minutes already slicing vegetables.***

Alana, true to form, was not just chopping a mountain of veggies, she was doing it while carrying on a conversation with two very tall men. I wandered in just in time to hear one of them ask “How big is your group.” “Just three of us,” and she saw me, “There is one of them now.”

Here we come to an interesting point. I don’t know why but when I meet new people, particularly men, I tend to curtsy. It’s nothing dramatic, just a quick bob and smile. I’m getting to be a strange duck in my old age.

Anyway, I bobbed a curtsy, one of the guys said “Hello ‘one’!” and I started chopping veggies. “My name is Alana, by the way. What are yours?” Now these men had incredibly thick accents and were from the Netherlands. They told us that we’d never be able to pronounce their names. “Try us!” we said. The first guy’s name was strange, but I managed it with relative ease. The second said “J-O-C-H-A-M. How do you think it’s pronounced?” I tilted my head to the side and got it perfectly on the first try. From the look on his face you would have thought that I had slapped his grandmother. “How do you know that?!” “I read alot.” By the time we’d all sorted out that reading would be less than helpful with pronunciation, their dinner was ready. We said goodbye and went about cooking our own.

Alana went and got Becca (who was still asleep) and then we all sat down and ate dinner.

After dinner we got dolled up. Tonight was cheap night at the Embassy Theatre, where Return of the King had it’s world premiere. Now, it is at this point that I must make a confession. I once promised my best friend that I would never wear skinny jeans. I lied. My outfit for this (gala) occasion consisted of black velvet flats, skinny jeans, a long gray tunic and an equally long black cardy. Sorry, Stacie.

When we got to the theatre we bought a (very full) coke and wandered over to the empty jazz bar. Who should be sitting there but Victoria and Amy, our Scottish friends. We chatted and then wandered towards the doors.

Oh! Another story out of order… The first thing we did when we got to the theatre was use the bathroom. This had to be the most beautiful bathroom I’ve ever seen. The entire theatre is gorgeous. Done in the 20’s style, with big mirrors and plush carpet, it has two swirling staircases leading down to street level. The bathroom had pedestal sinks and floor to ceiling doors on the stalls. All I could think was “Liv Tyler peed in this bathroom.” At which point I gave myself a mental shake and scolding for being a creepy stalker fan.

Anyway…

The movie before us was late getting out so I passed the time by making eye contact with one of the ushers who looked like Josh Groban’s little brother. (An interesting point… no-one makes eye contact in this country. I spent the entire week trying to make awkward eye contact with the passersby and it NEVER HAPPENED. Not once!)

The girls began comparing seats at which point I realized that I was sitting nowhere near them! The guy who’d sold us our tickets put us at opposite ends and one row apart from one another. Alana’s first comment? “Oh! We’ll need to get two cups for the coke, then!” A moment of silence ensued and then we all burst into uncontrollable laughter. Alana grabbed the coke and went right up to Josh Groban-usher to get it divided up. I went over to pick up my half (“I get the clean cup if I have to sit alone!”) and saw a piece of paper covered with doodles. “Yours?” I asked. He looked a little flustered. “No. I wish.” I smiled. “I work at a theatre back home and that’s exactly what I do.” He half smiled. “Well,” I picked up my coke and turned away, “thanks.” The smile came all the way out, then. “Cheers!”

By then it was time to actually go into the theatre.

We walked in, up a beautifully carpeted vom and around a corner. Then, you see it. It opens up into an enormous space with high ceilings, 20’s-style light fixtures and a curtained stage. (Curtains!) Our seats were in the platinum section. Translation…? Dark brown leather arm chairs.

I found my seat, waved at the girls and settled back. We watched La Vi en Rose, the story of Edith Piaf. The leading ladies’ performance was Oscar worthy, easily. It’ll be a gross injustice if she doesn’t win. I came home and wrote down three great quotes from the movie, two of which I will share with you.

“You are an immense talent.”  
“I’m wearing high heels.”

“Do you pray?”
“Yes, because I believe in Love.”

After the movie it was bed time. We were sleepy boots!