Marathon.

Do you know the feeling when you run and you are already tired and gasping for breath? Of course you do. Hundreds, no, thousands of needles are piercing your lungs; your body begs you to stop. But you don't stop. It hurts, but it will hurt even more if you do. Thousands of knives will readily cut into your muscles the moment you halt. And as if that is not enough, you'll have to face the breath of the cold December wind  all by yourself: he is busy saying goodbye to someone else. So you go on. Your feet wearily bounce off the pavement, with only your shoes to keep them from going faster. Suddenly you feel you have stopped. You seem to have run into something. Something pretty. You don't really see it; your shoes hurt and you are not paying attention. Reality check: you paid so much for those shoes. You tie the strings around your wrists. Tight and blue, so the blood cannot escape. This is the moment when your body catches up with your soul; your tired, naked skull ricochets against the wall and bounces off your bare feet. You chant words you don't understand. But it is too late.

And then you realise that climbing the second storey of the bus was perhaps a bit too adventurous. But you know you will survive. You always do.

To Faversham and back (with 13 pictures)

Today I went to a place called Faversham to give a concert in Faversham Assembly rooms with Camino and Daniel. I knew little, to say none at all about the destination.

The place itself turned out to be outside London and in order to get there we had to leave really early in the morning, at the crack of dawn, as one of my Performance practices lecturers used to say. In his case, however, the term was used to describing much later an hour and was intended sarcastically. Quite on the contrary, we were geniunely sleepy and freezing. It turned out that we were to go beyond the "end of the map" for us (which was Dartford) and as if this was not enough, we even passed a place bearing the cheerful name "Grave's End". We even saw some sea.

The first thing that caught my eye in Faversham was this birdy thing:

Awesome, isn't it? Not sure what is its practical use, but that makes it even more awesome.

We were welcomed very nicely and were offered coffee, which I was the only one from our trio to gladly accept; my embarrasment didn't last long though, as it was very much needed. The hall was very nice and not at all as cold as one might have expected; and the piano was well tuned. To my surprise, the hall was packed. First Camino and I played a movement from Anton Garcia Abril's Sonata for violin and piano. Then she and Daniel played a number of very short and very folky Bartok violin duos. It was great to see the audience respond to the music; to me, the little friendly laughter at the end of short pieces is among the nicest things one can hear.
After that I played Vladimir Djambazov's 33:8. It is so much fun to play. I will never forget one occasion when I nearly got thrown out of a hall for attempting to break the inventory, because of trying out a moment when you have to tap the rhythm on the wooden part of the piano.
We continued with pieces for two violins and piano by Moshkovski and Shostakovich. It was our first concert together, but it went well.
The audience was just lovely and it was a pleasure playing for them. I remembered one very cool lady who had about fifteen piercings and at least two tattoos. (She came to talk to us afterwards.)

After the concert we had a delicious (and free) lunch in the pub next door, which I didn't take photo of because pictures of lunches are being taken too often anyway, even without my contribution. Instead, here is a spicy thing from the bathroom:

[click on the image to read, and make sure you: 1. don't read it aloud to your five-year-old sibling/very traditional auntie 2. read it until the end, the end is important!]

Camino and Dani had to rush back to town for a rehearsal once we finished our meal so they went to catch the train. I, on the other hand,  felt like a stroll in the town before heading back, so we parted ways.

* * *
I went down the street and two minutes later I walked into the main street and into this cool bench:

It was not long before I got in the first shop. (It was called Goodness Gracious... and I thought it was an unusual name).

It was prop heaven. They had everything starting from clothes, funny hats, pictures and jewelry, glasses in all shapes (and apparently the glasses from the 30s are different to those in the 60s) and ending in boxes full of strange toys for £0.50 each. here was a nice Scottish piano that visitors are welcome to play. Needless to say, yours faithfully couldn't keep her paws off it. There was an open book of Chopin's Walzers so I played a couple of them.
I had a chat with the shopkeeper, Michelle -she was a really lovely lady. She told me she only just got the place and doesn't know what will happen with it in the future. She also told me that next Saturday they are going to put the piano on the street so people can play it; and invited me to come and play.

It is a lovely place, with Michelle, and the Patsy Cline recording, and a really nice and friendly Mily (she didn't bark once at the visitors!) If you ever are around, make sure to check it out. This is how it looks from the outside:

* * *
It was a market day, and the streets were covered with forests of miniature potted Christmas trees, organic vegetables, antiques and stalls with homemade cakes. There were some carols too; nice to see a place where all the premature Christmassy stuff is actually not annoying!

I spotted a large toy Garfield in one of the charity shops and am very to have him now. :D Also played with his real-life counterpart with half-orange half-black face:

I liked Faversham with its clocks, charity shops, old houses, narrow passages, and smiling people. I think I will come back. Maybe even next Saturday. Why don't you come too?

                                         the end! =)