Even before I embarked on this trip, the phrase came again and again into my mind: 'Even the best made plans of mice and men oft go awry'. I can't remember who plagiarised who – but the phrase has been quoted, revised and quoted again many times over the last century. And as is often the case with such things, it has been reused so often with good reason. There's a lot of sense in that simple sentence.
Everyone I spoke to that had been on extended travels had warned me not to make plans, as they will always change. You cannot guess what places you will like and want to stay in for longer; or what places will disappoint. But even so – when people asked how I was intending to see Australia I would still give them a month-by-month breakdown of the next 12 months... and then add: “though that might change a little”
How much of an understatement was that!?
Rather than spend the first three months of our trip in New South Wales travelling the Gold Coast we have instead gone in the opposite direction, crossing three state-boundaries in as many days. We've hopped from state capital to state capital going from Sydney in New South Wales to Melbourne in Victoria to Perth in Western Australia.
The reasons for the drastic change in direction are many, but suffice it to say that they have certainly taught me not to make or rely on any plans beyond the end of the current week! We have generally made our travel arrangements one day in advance (or less) and travelling like this, every day subject to whim, is a lot more fulfilling and exciting than thinking ahead and looking at a 'big picture'
So next time someone gives me some advice like: 'don't make plans'; 'travel light'; or 'trust the hippies' I'm actually going to listen to them and assume there is a reason they think they know best.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Hostels
One thing I have quickly learnt here in Australia is not to have any expectations. If you have high hopes then they could be dashed by the smallest disappointment; and if you don't expect anything special then there's always room to be pleasantly surprised. Hostels are no exception to this rule, and this has already been proved time and time again.
You come to find certain sounds, sights, and smells unfortunately very familiar. The sound of someone coming into the dorm at 4am; the sound of someone else getting up and leaving the dorm 5am; the smell of a fridge with long abandoned food hidden in its depths; the site of long abandoned cups/clothes/linen gathering dust and new lifeforms from its hidden den – and of course combinations of all three senses: The sound/sight/ smell of someone bending over next to your bed and letting one off in your direction when you're still too asleep to recoil or retaliate. Yes – that actually happened (and I'll get the b-----d back if I get a chance.)
Staying in a dorm is not for me. For a few extra bucks I can get a room on my own – and as it's only ever somewhere to sleep, I don't feel like I'm missing out on any community spirit that might be happening elsewhere in the hostel. And if it means I don't need to listen to eight other guys snoring and farting all night I think it's money very well spent.
And when you come across a true 'gem' of a place you understand how apt that phrase can be. Shining through the mud and detritus of most other hostels you sometimes come across a gleaming retreat with a personal touch that makes all the difference. Somewhere, which straight away makes you feel at home; with people that you come to consider family; and an atmosphere which is contagious (in an altogether different way to other places) and comfortable. And when such a place is found, a value cannot be put upon staying there.
I've learnt that the sort of places worth staying in are small personally-run hostels and lodges where the manager and owner is on the premises most of the time. If that is the case, then hopefully they won't be prepared to live in squalor – and that will mean you won't have to either. In a smaller place, everyone can get to know each other pretty easily and the staff will know you as well. Small personal touches can make all the difference when all the normally-familiar faces are thousands of miles away.
Without a shadow of doubt, my favourite place I've stayed in is just such a place: The Flying Fox in Katoomba, The Blue Mountains, NSW. The setting helps tremendously – waking up in the morning and being able to look down in to the valleys of misty-blue eucalyptus, exotic birds and animals, and glowing sunshine. But everything about the hostel itself is just as pleasant – from the log fires at night; hours of conversation and drinking of wine with the owner every evening; the sense of community everyone who stays there experiences. (And of course it is very clean, well-priced, and comfortable.) I'll be spending Christmas there later this year... it helps to book somewhere early... and I know there will be a fantastic celebration with much food, booze, and probably the odd present or two changing hands. So if I don't call anyone this year – you now know why. I'll be having way too much fun to remember!
You come to find certain sounds, sights, and smells unfortunately very familiar. The sound of someone coming into the dorm at 4am; the sound of someone else getting up and leaving the dorm 5am; the smell of a fridge with long abandoned food hidden in its depths; the site of long abandoned cups/clothes/linen gathering dust and new lifeforms from its hidden den – and of course combinations of all three senses: The sound/sight/ smell of someone bending over next to your bed and letting one off in your direction when you're still too asleep to recoil or retaliate. Yes – that actually happened (and I'll get the b-----d back if I get a chance.)
Staying in a dorm is not for me. For a few extra bucks I can get a room on my own – and as it's only ever somewhere to sleep, I don't feel like I'm missing out on any community spirit that might be happening elsewhere in the hostel. And if it means I don't need to listen to eight other guys snoring and farting all night I think it's money very well spent.
And when you come across a true 'gem' of a place you understand how apt that phrase can be. Shining through the mud and detritus of most other hostels you sometimes come across a gleaming retreat with a personal touch that makes all the difference. Somewhere, which straight away makes you feel at home; with people that you come to consider family; and an atmosphere which is contagious (in an altogether different way to other places) and comfortable. And when such a place is found, a value cannot be put upon staying there.
I've learnt that the sort of places worth staying in are small personally-run hostels and lodges where the manager and owner is on the premises most of the time. If that is the case, then hopefully they won't be prepared to live in squalor – and that will mean you won't have to either. In a smaller place, everyone can get to know each other pretty easily and the staff will know you as well. Small personal touches can make all the difference when all the normally-familiar faces are thousands of miles away.
Without a shadow of doubt, my favourite place I've stayed in is just such a place: The Flying Fox in Katoomba, The Blue Mountains, NSW. The setting helps tremendously – waking up in the morning and being able to look down in to the valleys of misty-blue eucalyptus, exotic birds and animals, and glowing sunshine. But everything about the hostel itself is just as pleasant – from the log fires at night; hours of conversation and drinking of wine with the owner every evening; the sense of community everyone who stays there experiences. (And of course it is very clean, well-priced, and comfortable.) I'll be spending Christmas there later this year... it helps to book somewhere early... and I know there will be a fantastic celebration with much food, booze, and probably the odd present or two changing hands. So if I don't call anyone this year – you now know why. I'll be having way too much fun to remember!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Animals in Oz
Today I saw my first hopping marsupial. And my second not too long after that! On the way down to the Jenolan Caves (where the most amazing calcite crystals can be seen) I saw a small, dark-furred, fluffy walabe hopping from the roadside up a little bank, before turning to stare at us as we drove past - not more than six feet away from us. And after spending the afternoon in the caves, I saw two large kangaroos in a field - apparently looking at something in the distance (I like to think they were admiring the sunset).
So now I really feel like I'm in Australia!
There's been a lot of interesting wildlife to see since we arrived. Some of it has been in the trees, some of it has been in the fields, and the best of all has been in freezer-compartments in the fish markets!
I went to Sydney Fish Market for a day last week, and there was plenty which appealed to me! As I walked through the main building's entrance, I grabbed a bunch of octopus on a skewer and went searching for some more tasties! After half an hour of walking between the vendors I had a pretty good idea of where the best bits were. I started with a half-dozen Sydney Rock Oysters. Little things with a beautiful flavor! I went on to try the Pacific Oysters - which were much bigger, stronger-tasting, but not actually as nice. The lobsters, king-prawns, and salmon and tuna sashimi I won't even begin to describe. Just the thought of them is making me dribble down my T-shirt all over again!
Other than the edible life here, there's plenty to catch the eye. Crimson Rosellas are pretty common up in the Blue Mountains, so we've seen a lot of them. And paraquettes, cockatoos... I even saw a lyre bird this afternoon... a lot like a peacock. Maybe even tastier!
Last week I saw my first marsupial - a collection of tiny possums up a tree waiting for their parents to bring them dinner! ANd not long after that, I saw another possum - with baby in the pouch - sitting out in the open in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. The pictures I got were amazing (available in my Sydney album: http://s238.photobucket.com/albums/ff134/rickginer/ then click the Sydney sub-album)
I've seen a few different lizards. A handful of different types - but mainly a large tree-gecko in the Botanical Gardens, a huge water dragon in the Blue Mountains - and a few fresh water skinks as well (little and very quick buggers) skitting across the path.
In the way of spiders, I have seen a funnel-web - one of the deadliest spiders ion the world. And a few huntsmen whcih will not do you any good either! Checking under toilet seats, behind cushions, and in shoes has become a sort of ritual that has been surprisingly easy to get into. Not surprising when you think of the consequences for not paying attention!
The list of unusual and amusing animals that have entertained me in the day and annoyed me throughout the night goes on and on! I could write for hours about the cigadas, flying foxes, ibis, crows, magpies (none of which are the same as I have been used to)...... but with the smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen, I can think of little else but what's next going in my stomach (which itself reminds me of a few more tasty animals I saw) but look at the pictures online - and if there's anything you want to know about send me a mail!
Much love,
R
So now I really feel like I'm in Australia!
There's been a lot of interesting wildlife to see since we arrived. Some of it has been in the trees, some of it has been in the fields, and the best of all has been in freezer-compartments in the fish markets!
I went to Sydney Fish Market for a day last week, and there was plenty which appealed to me! As I walked through the main building's entrance, I grabbed a bunch of octopus on a skewer and went searching for some more tasties! After half an hour of walking between the vendors I had a pretty good idea of where the best bits were. I started with a half-dozen Sydney Rock Oysters. Little things with a beautiful flavor! I went on to try the Pacific Oysters - which were much bigger, stronger-tasting, but not actually as nice. The lobsters, king-prawns, and salmon and tuna sashimi I won't even begin to describe. Just the thought of them is making me dribble down my T-shirt all over again!
Other than the edible life here, there's plenty to catch the eye. Crimson Rosellas are pretty common up in the Blue Mountains, so we've seen a lot of them. And paraquettes, cockatoos... I even saw a lyre bird this afternoon... a lot like a peacock. Maybe even tastier!
Last week I saw my first marsupial - a collection of tiny possums up a tree waiting for their parents to bring them dinner! ANd not long after that, I saw another possum - with baby in the pouch - sitting out in the open in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. The pictures I got were amazing (available in my Sydney album: http://s238.photobucket.com/albums/ff134/rickginer/ then click the Sydney sub-album)
I've seen a few different lizards. A handful of different types - but mainly a large tree-gecko in the Botanical Gardens, a huge water dragon in the Blue Mountains - and a few fresh water skinks as well (little and very quick buggers) skitting across the path.
In the way of spiders, I have seen a funnel-web - one of the deadliest spiders ion the world. And a few huntsmen whcih will not do you any good either! Checking under toilet seats, behind cushions, and in shoes has become a sort of ritual that has been surprisingly easy to get into. Not surprising when you think of the consequences for not paying attention!
The list of unusual and amusing animals that have entertained me in the day and annoyed me throughout the night goes on and on! I could write for hours about the cigadas, flying foxes, ibis, crows, magpies (none of which are the same as I have been used to)...... but with the smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen, I can think of little else but what's next going in my stomach (which itself reminds me of a few more tasty animals I saw) but look at the pictures online - and if there's anything you want to know about send me a mail!
Much love,
R
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
An afternoon with Clarence
Clarence is an aborignal tribesman born close to the Clarence River in Northern Australia. His totum is the Salamander which means he shares the same blood as it, it is like his brother, and to allow one to come to harm would make him physically ill. He is also the head of Aboriginal Studies at the Botanical Gardens in Sydeny. But beyod all that - he was our guide for one afternoon last week as we walked around the artificial 'bush' that is the Gardens.
The walk was scheduled to be a little over an hour, and should have cost $10. In reality, it lasted over 3 hours - cost nothing - and included some extra-curicular studies in the pub on the way home.
We learnt a great deal about the land, the people, and the spirituality that is so important to the aboriginals, and I don't intend to recount much of that here - but I will say that we had an amazing time, and came away buzzing with excitement at the thought of trying to live off Bush Tucker!
The aboriginals sem to find a use for nearly everything that grows or lives within their domain. Bark on trees which peels off in neat sheets can be used for bandages, to wrap and cook food in, to write on, or to make soft padding... fruits which can't be eaten can be ground down to make oil - or burned with a wick to make a candel. But most importantly - I learnt what is good for a headache, stomach upsets, keeping the flies away, and recovering from a hangover.
The bush awaits.... we're off into the Blue Mountains now for a few weeks of roughing-it, and camping in the wilderness. If I survive the first few nights of experimentation with the local flora and fauna expect a new blog soon!
The walk was scheduled to be a little over an hour, and should have cost $10. In reality, it lasted over 3 hours - cost nothing - and included some extra-curicular studies in the pub on the way home.
We learnt a great deal about the land, the people, and the spirituality that is so important to the aboriginals, and I don't intend to recount much of that here - but I will say that we had an amazing time, and came away buzzing with excitement at the thought of trying to live off Bush Tucker!
The aboriginals sem to find a use for nearly everything that grows or lives within their domain. Bark on trees which peels off in neat sheets can be used for bandages, to wrap and cook food in, to write on, or to make soft padding... fruits which can't be eaten can be ground down to make oil - or burned with a wick to make a candel. But most importantly - I learnt what is good for a headache, stomach upsets, keeping the flies away, and recovering from a hangover.
The bush awaits.... we're off into the Blue Mountains now for a few weeks of roughing-it, and camping in the wilderness. If I survive the first few nights of experimentation with the local flora and fauna expect a new blog soon!
A week in Sydney
I arrived in Sydney just a few minutes behind the girls. Siân and Rachel had gone the opposite way round the globe to get to Sydney, changing planes in San Francisco and Los Angeles - with no more than an hour in each airport between flights. I don't envy them at all (but I did take delight in telling them about my 12 hour stop-over in Hong Kong). It was about 7 in the morning, and it was already over 20 degrees outside the airport. Once we were clear of the terminal building, we were greeted by palm trees, sun, and the promise of a glorious few days in the unofficial capital of Australia.
It turned out to be the hottest day so far in what is only really the beginning of Spring in Australia. Temperatures in the heart of Sydney reached 35 degrees - which was paradise compared to the hottest day I can remember of my Scottish summer (an abismal 26 degrees with rain and wind). We headed straight for Sydeny Harbor, and the panoramic views of the Opera House and the Bridge were just as you've seen them in pictures. There were very few people out and about... a few tourists, an aborigine on the digeridoo (accompanied by the less than traditional drum & bass backing beat), and a few locals who had come to the water's edge to cool off. We dipped our toes in the the cool harbour waters and went off into the Botanical Gardens which make up a huge proportion of the city's centre.
At first glance, Sydney appears a lot like many British cities. The flora and fauna seem familiar, the cars are on the right (correct) side of the road, and there is a mixture of tower blocks and department stores which you would expect to find in any central business district. But looking closer, everything is startlingly different. The black-and-white birds in the trees are not magpies but piping shrikes. The white birds circling overhead are cockatoos and not seagulls. The birds around the ponds which seem to be geese from a distance are in fact ibis. And in amongst the nearly-familiar pines and spruces are an abundance of fig trees, palms, and exotic and strange plants which you would not believe should exist (more about them later)
Another sure way of knowing that we are not in Kansas anymore are the attitudes of everyone we meet. From the trucker who stops to comment on a tattoo and ends up spending 25 minutes telling us about his secret creek a few hundred miles north of Sydney (on our route up the coast) to the random strangers who hear our obviously perplexed and touristic questions to each other and feel obliged to interject with advice and wisdom that has made our time so far a lot more enjoyable, rewarding, and less stressful. Everyone is only too happy to help, whether that means driving us 2 hours into the mountains to find a good camping spot for us, or just giving us directions to the best local pub!
Oh - and Iron Maiden are coming here in February.
I think I'm going to like this place.
It turned out to be the hottest day so far in what is only really the beginning of Spring in Australia. Temperatures in the heart of Sydney reached 35 degrees - which was paradise compared to the hottest day I can remember of my Scottish summer (an abismal 26 degrees with rain and wind). We headed straight for Sydeny Harbor, and the panoramic views of the Opera House and the Bridge were just as you've seen them in pictures. There were very few people out and about... a few tourists, an aborigine on the digeridoo (accompanied by the less than traditional drum & bass backing beat), and a few locals who had come to the water's edge to cool off. We dipped our toes in the the cool harbour waters and went off into the Botanical Gardens which make up a huge proportion of the city's centre.
At first glance, Sydney appears a lot like many British cities. The flora and fauna seem familiar, the cars are on the right (correct) side of the road, and there is a mixture of tower blocks and department stores which you would expect to find in any central business district. But looking closer, everything is startlingly different. The black-and-white birds in the trees are not magpies but piping shrikes. The white birds circling overhead are cockatoos and not seagulls. The birds around the ponds which seem to be geese from a distance are in fact ibis. And in amongst the nearly-familiar pines and spruces are an abundance of fig trees, palms, and exotic and strange plants which you would not believe should exist (more about them later)
Another sure way of knowing that we are not in Kansas anymore are the attitudes of everyone we meet. From the trucker who stops to comment on a tattoo and ends up spending 25 minutes telling us about his secret creek a few hundred miles north of Sydney (on our route up the coast) to the random strangers who hear our obviously perplexed and touristic questions to each other and feel obliged to interject with advice and wisdom that has made our time so far a lot more enjoyable, rewarding, and less stressful. Everyone is only too happy to help, whether that means driving us 2 hours into the mountains to find a good camping spot for us, or just giving us directions to the best local pub!
Oh - and Iron Maiden are coming here in February.
I think I'm going to like this place.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
A day in Hong Kong
In order to break up a horrifically long journey to the other side of the world, I had a 12 hour stop in Hong Kong. With the build-up to Australia, my trip to HK was slightly dwarfed (what's 12 hours when you're planning a year-long trip?) and so I arrived without any plans at all. Without knowing a thinking about the place (I'm embarrassed to say I didn't know what the exchange rate was - and worse: I wasn't even sure what the currency was!) But I was determined not to that that spoil my day. I was going to experience Hong Kong! To learn as much as I could, see all that was on offer - and eat as much as I could squeeze into my belly. And I think I experienced Hong Kong as it really is: A bustling hive of people running around seemingly with purpose but actually in a state of perpetual confusion.
It took me an hour to find my way out of Hong Kong central station. I managed to leave it without too much of a problem, but all the streets, bridges, tunnels, and walkways seemed to lead me round in a huge circle and back into the place. But when I finally found a bus that didn't seem adverse to letting me on with the huge monetary denomination which was the only note the bank had dispensed to me - I was off to see the country!
I started in a typical Hong Kong market, wandering up and down alleyways marveling at how cheap everything was.. it was only 9 in the morning, but already approaching 30 degrees, so I didn't manage long in the busy hive of bargains. It was off to the beach where I sweated my way along the cove in hunt of a few Chinese monuments. And when I found them I was pleased I had made the effort. Ten-meter tall Budhas, deities, and other mighty statues guarded the coastline, and if it weren't for my semi-naked dripping body and the other tourists - I'm sure it would have been a deeply spiritual place.
I left the Island of Hong Kong around midday to go to Kowloon where I had read there is a restaurant in which the best Peking Duck in all the world is found - thinking with my stomach as usual. And it was awesome! There was so much food, and the people in the restaurant were incredibly friendly. The wine waiter made me promise to comeback and bring Siân with me., and tel him all about our travels.
After the food, I started to plod back to the airport via a huge park. I was tired and sore after an intense day of sight-seeing, eating, and the horrible 11 hour flight from the UK. I casually crossed the street to view an advert for a massage, which was a very tempting prospect and before I realised it I was lying half naked, face down in a darkened room waiting for my little Chinese girlie to come and work me over. Unfortunately SHE never came. But HE was very good at his job. I got one hell of a workout! I can't go into the details, as this blog should really be family-friendly, but once I got over the fact that a man was rubbing oil into my buttocks (though not exclusively) I actually started to feel really good. All over. The two-hour session cost about 15 quid. A bargain. I think.
It made the flight onwards to Sydney much more comfortable. Though I didn't sleep. In fact, I arrived in Australia having had six hours sleep in four nights. But that's creeping into the realms of the next post.
Stay tuned.....
Rick.
It took me an hour to find my way out of Hong Kong central station. I managed to leave it without too much of a problem, but all the streets, bridges, tunnels, and walkways seemed to lead me round in a huge circle and back into the place. But when I finally found a bus that didn't seem adverse to letting me on with the huge monetary denomination which was the only note the bank had dispensed to me - I was off to see the country!
I started in a typical Hong Kong market, wandering up and down alleyways marveling at how cheap everything was.. it was only 9 in the morning, but already approaching 30 degrees, so I didn't manage long in the busy hive of bargains. It was off to the beach where I sweated my way along the cove in hunt of a few Chinese monuments. And when I found them I was pleased I had made the effort. Ten-meter tall Budhas, deities, and other mighty statues guarded the coastline, and if it weren't for my semi-naked dripping body and the other tourists - I'm sure it would have been a deeply spiritual place.
I left the Island of Hong Kong around midday to go to Kowloon where I had read there is a restaurant in which the best Peking Duck in all the world is found - thinking with my stomach as usual. And it was awesome! There was so much food, and the people in the restaurant were incredibly friendly. The wine waiter made me promise to comeback and bring Siân with me., and tel him all about our travels.
After the food, I started to plod back to the airport via a huge park. I was tired and sore after an intense day of sight-seeing, eating, and the horrible 11 hour flight from the UK. I casually crossed the street to view an advert for a massage, which was a very tempting prospect and before I realised it I was lying half naked, face down in a darkened room waiting for my little Chinese girlie to come and work me over. Unfortunately SHE never came. But HE was very good at his job. I got one hell of a workout! I can't go into the details, as this blog should really be family-friendly, but once I got over the fact that a man was rubbing oil into my buttocks (though not exclusively) I actually started to feel really good. All over. The two-hour session cost about 15 quid. A bargain. I think.
It made the flight onwards to Sydney much more comfortable. Though I didn't sleep. In fact, I arrived in Australia having had six hours sleep in four nights. But that's creeping into the realms of the next post.
Stay tuned.....
Rick.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Making the most
With the sands of time not showing any signs of relenting their persistent trickling away, I have started to realise exactly how little time I have. The list of things I have yet to accomplish or enjoy whilst I am still in Scotland is an intimidating and embarrassingly large one, and one I am sure I'll not be able to address in its entirety. I'm going to have a good bash at it over the next three weeks though!
The most recent thing I was able to strike from the list was a trip to Loch Lomond. A place I have heard in song since primary school, and I thought it would be nice to explore those bonny, bonny banks whilst I am still close by. I didn't quite realise the size of that loch though…. 23 miles long, and up to 5 miles wide! Those bonny banks are going to remain largely unexplored by me for a little while longer, but there's a small stretch in the middle which I now know intimately. Well, as intimately as you can come to know a stretch of countryside in half an hour.
A weekend of excess and not enough sleeping has left my body aching and exhausted but it is a small inconvenience for the complete rejuvenation my soul has undergone!
And next on the list (apart from enjoying another week of the Fringe Festival with continued and unadulterated boozing) is a trip to Loch Ness next weekend. It'll be really nice to get back up into the Highlands for a little while and as we move through the more wild lands of Scotland I'm hoping to see a few more herds of deer in the passing forests and a couple of lone buzzards guarding the skies. And a few less swarms of midgies would be nice... but I think to hope that might be a bit daft!
Knowing that you're going to be leaving a place you love makes you think about the specific things that make you happy and realise that there's a lot to miss. I'm going to miss the smell of the brewery in Edinburgh as I go past it in the morning – that smell of warm Weetabix which remains one of the most homely smells of the city. I'm going to miss the restaurants I love and the people that make them such a pleasure to visit, and the bars I collapse in and the people that put me in a taxi home.
And when I'm in Australia there's even more that will make me look back with fondness on my time in the UK, and maybe create a pang of yearning in the pit of my stomach: cooking mighty feasts with the best ingredients; drinking good British ales in traditional British bars; playing my music at window-shaking volumes; electric guitars hanging and sitting on every surface in the room.
And there's bound to be some things that I have never thought about before: being on the same continent, that same piece of rock, as nearly all of my friends and family; the familiarity of knowing which direction the water will circle down the plughole; knowing that the if I were to get in a fight with a spider I'm certainly going to win…
So for the moment, I'm going to bask in all of these things. Over-indulgence of these simple pleasures whilst they are available is the order of the day. So expect to see me in my favourite bar with my favourite pint; or listening to my favourite band on my favourite sound system – maybe playing along on my favourite guitar through my favourite amp, and with my favourite friends around me.
...Whilst pointing and laughing at every little spider I see cowering in the shadows.
"On soft grey mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gently pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king."
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