I gave that little push to try something I wouldn't typically do. So on Thursday I took a bus down to the theatre and bought myself tickets to Swan Lake.
Honestly though, I was second guessing myself on the way there. My first sign of affirmation was only at the box office. The ticketing guy charged me the student price of circle seats for a spot in the stall. Oh yeah. That's €35 I saved right there. The Singaporean in me was very pleased.
To no one's surprise the theatre was eventually filled with many old women and little girls. There were a couple of men too I guess, but no where enough to disperse the smell of powder and perfume.
I found it strange too that they allow food in the theatres here. They even had guys walk around with those Superbowl hotdog tray things selling ice-cream. Apparently they only stop you from binging in alcohol. I didn't really understand why.
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| Old woman treats herself to a magnum |
Swan Lake turned out to be quite watchable. I nearly fell asleep only once or twice.
Okay it wasn't even that bad. I was tired. But it was interesting to watch a wordless storytelling form. The dancers were really good at communicating their feelings and relationships through dance, gestures, and facial expressions. The only sounds that came from their mouths were these weird grunts.
I really liked how the image a swan was interpreted into dance. You really couldn't mistake the dancers for anything else. They were able to capture the power, majesty, and grace of swans in their movements.
Actually perhaps one reason why I found it really watchable was because it seemed quite contemporary a ballet. The whole styling and theme of the ballet didn't seem very stiff and classical.
It was only when I got home and wikied it that I realised I had watched a reinterpretation of Swan Lake, by Matthew Bourne.
After the ballet I took a little walk around town. It was a nice day out.
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| The sun setting over Liffey |
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| The sun still taking its time |
Then it was Friday. Friday, Friday. I went for a Russian Sauna with the Russian Society.
The sauna was nice. It was out in the middle of nowhere called Drogheda, some 50km north of Dublin.
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| Welcome to the house of sauna |
We arrived at about sevenish in the evening. Then we had spits on a barbeque going. That was yum.
I wasn't sure what was going on half the time though. Eventually we made it to the sauna, though it was quite late when we started.
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| Sauna outside |
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| Sauna inside |
The sauna itself was regular? Like most saunas you'd find in at gym. I think the sauna is a cultural thing for the Russians though. One guy described it as a hobby.
Inside, they'd get the temperature up to ninety degrees... Then they have this bundle of dried leaves on branches, which they soak in hot water then beat themselves/ each other with. I promise you it isn't as cruel as it sounds.
When you're just able to melt into the bench, you run outside and jump into the pool. Traditionally in Russia they jump into the snow, but we clearly didn't have any snow.
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| What you don't see is the three degrees Celsius |
After that icy shock of death you head back to the sauna. Repeat.
I think I sound insane typing this out but this was really enjoyable. The Russians said it was good for blood circulation and stuff, but it was also nice in a social sense. I'd imagine it's a significant bonding activity in Russia.
I only felt the health effects a bit more this morning, when I woke up with that slight, pleasant sore of having exercised.
Anyway, after the saunas it got a little crazy at the house. That's as much as I'll describe. I managed to get a few decent conversations. Then rest of the night was spent in attempt to sleep.
Notwithstanding, I think it was a really good experience. I am happy.
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