Day 14
In the City of Sealand which is built atop an island fortress which nature has built for herself off the east coast, would have in times of old been an impregnable castle. Nowadays not only is it accessible by boat but the east coast mainland railway has a spur line which ends right inside the core of the island.
There are no cars on the island and everything is transported either by people power or by motorbike. As we wander around the city, you might like to look upwards to see metal beams with chains and pulleys; for all furniture if it isn't flat packed, has to be hauled up and then brought inside through the windows. It might sound daft but there are some narrow houses where the entire front wall is on hinges and can open up like a door, expressly for this purpose.
The island which also boasts its own underground railway, albeit one with only four stops and one train and only goes around anticlockwise, has been the site of conflict; but not necessarily one with weapons of timber and steel.
No man is an island or an isthmus. Some come from Bermuda and some believe in Christmas. On an island fortress which essentially has no resources of its own, the only viable industries are services and entertainment.
Sealand is known for its grand shopping arcades; which as someone who basically doesn't really have all that much which might interest me that I can buy, are completely pointless. I do like walking through steel arched spaces and I do like the Tiffany Lamp effect of the coloured panels in the ceiling but as with most arcades, there really isn't anything for me here.
This helps to illustrate why I probably am not as bothered by the Coronacrisis as everyone else. I don't exactly miss not going out to go shopping or going to restaurants because it's not like I did a whole heap of that before the lockdown. I think that I might have done these sorts of things maybe once a quarter at most; so a lockdown of ninety days is perhaps not as punishing for me. It is not the absence of excitement as much as the absence of quiet rolling community that I find annoying.
I already recoil in horror whenever I have to pay double digits for a meal and I find the idea that people pay more than twenty dollars a week to get coffee, maddening. Already my usual journey to work takes me past cafés with sandwich boards where prices for two bits of toast and coffee might cost $12.
No, the reason that we have come to this fortress in the sea is not because of the shopping or the restaurants but rather the theatre which is on the eastern side of the island (I am reliably informed that there is no western side of the island).
Once we pass through the alley where luthiers hawk guitars, banjos, violins, and octobasses, we step through the doors of a velveted foyer and into a completely blackened theatre. I assure you that this is absolutely normal and that there is no need to see the stage at all.
This is The Theatre Of The Mind, which has several touring companies which have been provided by BBC Radio 4, NPR; as well as other organisations. I also note that it has been sponsored by several companies such as:
- Footo: the wonder boot exploder
- Patriot brand cigarettes
- Workjuice Coffee
- Half A Glass Of Water
- Luigi's Pizza: pay for it with snakes
- One long sort of a bent thing with a lump on the end
- Existential Dread
and many others.
In the Theatre Of The Mind I have heard crime dramas, surreal comedies, detective stories, tales of adventure, live sport, drama, tragedies, historical pieces, and loads of lectures on everything from science, religion, philosophy, architecture, the arts etc.
I think that most people can remember where they were when such and such happened. I have heard loads of audio which happened long before I was a thing to have anything happening to. One of the most vivid nights that I ever remember, was when I was asked to keep watch over a toilet block to make sure that people didn't run amok¹ and being in the heat of a summer night in Sydney, I heard the featured game on the BBC World Service where Liverpool came from 1-nil down to 2-1 up against Sheffield Wednesday (Barnes 42' McManaman 60')
More than watching television, it is the sounds of radio, which I hold dearer. Various summers have their own soundtracks where a song might be heard over and over but hearing Glenn McGrath score 61 only happens once.
You could watch a production of Anna Karenina on television but because the radio version does not have to worry about costume design, set design and location, the money can be better spent to make it better. How would you overcome the staging limitations of putting on a production of Peer Gynt? The eponymous Rita in 'Educating Rita' is far more correct with her answer of "Do it on the radio" than she will ever know.
What has been playing recently in the theatre? BBC Radio 4 has been running a series called '13 Minutes To The Moon'² and it is well worth a listen.
The Theatre Of The Mind is probably one of the most cherished places in all of the land but if that's essentially someone else's voice in here, then what do I think of my own? That's the subject of another day's journey.
¹this is a long story for another time.
²link: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/w13xttx2/episodes/downloads
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