Return to Minneapolis

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Bill Bryson, Brit's Pub, Charles Dickens, Dodge Charger, Downton Abbey, Ebenezer Scrooge, Hertz Car Rental, Highclere Castle, Notes from a Big Country, Philadelphia, Steve McQueen, The Minneapolis Club

Friday would be another day of travel, as I made my way back from the East coast to the Midwest once more, and to my final destination of this part of the tour: Minneapolis.

Having had a coffee and completed Wordle, I opened the curtains to find that the skies were grey and depositing copious amounts of rain onto the ground, as the storm that had been promised for days made its way up from the south.

I had my breakfast in the lobby of the hotel, and then returned to my room to re-pack my case, which thanks to my diligence the day before was an easy job, just stuffing pairs of socks into my top hot and wrapping the thick scarf around the outside, so that it didn’t get crushed, and slipping it back into the space from which it had been lifted 24 hours before. I once again packed both of my costumes into the little roller bag and was ready to get on the road once more.

Before I set out on my journey, I spent some time connecting my phone to the car’s audio system, and was delighted to discover that on this model of Malibu my phone’s display would be shown on the large screen, meaning that navigation into Philadelphia would be much easier than it had been two days before when I had been trying to prop my phone up near to the gear shift, and hoping it wouldn’t fall onto the floor every time I took a curve. I was accompanied on my journey by the first practice session from the Brazilian Grand Prix, and also the audio book that I am currently listing to, Bill Bryson’s ‘Notes From a Big Country’. The journey took me onto I295, and along the route were ‘witty’ signs displayed on overhead gantries, designed presumably to attract the notice of drivers who had become blind to more traditional warnings: ‘SLOW DOWN. THIS AINT THUNDER ROAD’, ‘DONT BOOZE AND CRUISE’ and ‘BE A DEER, LOOK AFTER WILDLIFE’. All very laudable, but what if I had been looking up at the sign and chuckling to myself just as a deer ran out in front of me, meaning I didn’t have time to react?

After thirty minutes or so I was arriving on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and through the murk I could just about see the shadowy outline of the city skyline, bringing to mind Charles Dickens’ description in A Christmas Carol, ‘…and the houses opposite were mere phantoms.’ I skirted the spectral city and was soon pulling up at the Hertz Car Rental drop off. The wait for a shuttle bus was a long one, and by the time it arrived there was a quite a crowd wanting to board. A large crowd at the car rental office inevitably means a large crowd in the terminal, and I was glad that I had left plenty of time, for I was resigned to standing in line for a long time at security. Actually, my flight was departing from Terminal F, a much smaller satellite terminal, where the tiny planes that don’t require jetways depart from, so the queues were not too long. It was 12.15 when I cleared security and as the flight would be over three hours, I thought it would be good to get some lunch, so sat down to a burger and fries, before finding gate F14 (at least I hoped that was the gate number and not the plane we would be flying in) and sitting down with my fellow passengers until we were called to board. It was a very full flight, and we were all packed into to our little sardine can. As we taxied to the runway the rain lashed down ever harder outside and the captain warned us that it would be bumpy ride until we reached our cruising altitude above the clouds – and he was right. Once the wheels left the ground we bumped and tipped and dropped and soared in a way to remind a nervous passenger, and even a less nervous one, how very fragile an aircraft is when faced with the might of nature.

Being back on an American Airlines flight I was hoping that I may be able to find Ford v Ferrari again on the entertainment system so that I could finish it, but the choices had changed, or perhaps are just different on the smaller planes, so instead I watched the sheer tosh that is the second Downton Abbey film. It really is very silly, but it was lovely to see Highclere Castle, and to know that I will be performing there again in little over a month’s time.

Eventually we began our descent into Minneapolis/St Paul airport and touched down in a region I know very well and feel very at home in. Over two years I performed in the play ‘To Begin With’ in Minneapolis and lived in two apartment blocks throughout the rehearsal periods and the runs, meaning that I walked to grocery stores, strolled in the parks, went to the Art Museum, had Sunday breakfast in a little diner, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. One year Liz stayed with me, and on another occasion my brother Ian came and took some amazing production photographs of me playing Charles Dickens, complete with a specially made wig, (the wig was for me, by the way, not for Ian!) They were happy days, and it was great to be back.

I found my way to the Hertz garage and discovered that on this occasion I was allowed to choose my car from ‘The President’s Circle’ aisle, rather that the Gold member’s one, and this gave me a fantastic choice – I could have selected another convertible Mustang, like the one I had driven in September, but a convertible in a Minnesota November didn’t seem suitable, and in the end I decided to channel my inner Steve McQueen and slipped into the driver’s seat of a black Dodge Charger, which trembled and shook as I started the large engine.

The drive into the centre if the city took about 30 minutes, and the traffic was heavy, but there were occasions when I could accelerate hard, and the beast just leaped forward with a magnificent surge of acceleration which brought a big smile to my face.

My destination was the very exclusive Minneapolis Club in the heart of the city, where I will be performing on Saturday and Sunday. A few years ago, I performed in The Aster Cafe in the city, which was owned by a fine Pickwickian named Jeff Arundel, and Jeff is now the Managing Director of the club and was keen to have me preform in the sumptuous wood panelled elegance of the old building (the club was formed in 1907). Not only would I be performing at the club, but I was fortunate enough to be staying there as well. I gently guided the Charger into the club’s parking garage, and in no time was checked in and taking the elevator to the 4th floor. The Elevator itself, and I use the American term because it seemed such an American style, was tiny, with just room for my cases and me, and had a large rotary handle that, in former days, an attendant would have operated on behalf of the members and their guests.

When I had settled into my room, which was spacious and very well appointed, I drew a bath and luxuriated using some of the hand-made soap that had been given me back in Kansas City, and just felt a little bit spoiled and pampered. At seven o’clock I went out to dinner. Rather than availing myself of the club’s restaurant, I wanted to return to a regular haunt during my ‘To Begin With’ years, and that was to Brit’s Pub. I found walked the few blocks through the city and was delighted to discover that my navigational skills had not deserted me. Brit’s was bustling and busy, but I was shown to a seat in the upstairs room, and admired the portraits of the Queen, Churchill, various football teams and numerous Union Jacks, flags of St George, the Welsh and Scottish flags and plenty of other memorabilia. As a nod to home, I chose a Shepherd’s Pie, which was delicious.

It wasn’t late when I walked back to the club, perhaps 8.30, and the city’s buildings looked magnificent lit up against the night sky. It was cold, but not truly Minneapolis-cold. When I was here before it was February, and the temperatures were so far below zero as to make my beard freeze!

In the dark of the night, the old building nestled beneath the surrounding skyscrapers, bringing to mind another passage from A Christmas Carol, when Dickens describes Scrooge’s home: ‘He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again.’

I returned to my room and spent the rest of the evening watching television, before falling asleep. On Saturday I have the larger part of the day to myself, so will have the opportunity to indulge in some more nostalgia in Minneapolis.

A Long Day Off

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Applebees, Boeing 737, Charles Dickens, Charlotte NC, Ebenezer Scrooge, Ford V Ferrari, Hertz Car Rental, Hilton Garden Inn, Old Forge NY, Philadelphia, Stanley Tucci, The Damned United, Wilson Arizona

Wednesday marked my first day off since I arrived in America, although it would be fully taken up with travelling from the Midwest to the East coast. I woke very early, I mean VERY early for some reason, but used the morning to get back to Wordle, which I had not played for a few days, and had a very satisfying result of three, and then got to work on writing my blog post.

My flight was not actually until 1.50, so I had plenty of time throughout the morning to get packed and ready. Over the last few days of performing I had amassed a very large amount of laundry, so after breakfast I went to the hotel’s front desk to get enough quarters to pay for two loads of washing and drying. The lady at the desk looked in her cash register and when we had finished the transaction, the Element Hotel, Mid Town Crossing, had only 75c of quarters left, whilst I had a jingling, jangling bag of booty.

When I had flown from Heathrow a week before my large suitcase had been perilously close to the weight limit, so I decided to try and back both of my costumes (the frockcoats and trousers are made from quite thick material and therefore are heavy) into my carry-on roller case, and sure enough I managed to squeeze them all in. I watched TV (avoiding anything political, as it was the day of the Midterm elections and passions were running hot) until the cycles of washing and drying were complete. I carefully folded all 10 of my costume shirts and packed the main case, which was still heavy (note to self, be more careful when packing for the second leg of my trip later this month) and closed everything up.

I checked out at around 11.15, meaning I had plenty of time to fill my car with petrol, get to the car rental return and into the terminal and still allow the recommended 2-hour window before my departure. Before I left, I remembered to leave the radio microphone pack, that I had inadvertently ‘stolen’ from the Westside High School the day before, in an envelope at reception.

The drive to Eppley Field Airport is a very short one, and I relished it for I had greatly enjoyed my time in the Venza and will miss it. I stopped at a gas station on the way to fill up, and had the usual battle in working out how to open the filler cap in an unfamiliar car. After sitting at the pump for a while looking through the owner’s manual, I finally found a little button low down on the left, about the level of my shin – there would certainly be no possibility of accidentally opening it, which is why, I presume, it is so carefully hidden away.

When I put my credit card into the pump it came up with a message that they couldn’t currently process remote card payments and I would have to go into the shop and pay there before filling the tank (this is one of the biggest differences between America and Britain that I come across: in England a driver is trusted enough to be permitted to pay for their fuel after they have filled their tank, rather than having to prepay). At the counter I had to guess how much fuel I was going to need, and I had no idea. Gas prices have been fluctuating wildly across the globe in recent months, and I wasn’t really sure if they are very expensive or back to normal in America at the moment. I also knew that the Venza would need half a tank, but what did that mean? I made a very random guess of $20, and the girl assured me that if I didn’t reach that amount, then the balance would be returned to the card. When the pump clunked to a stop, I had actually put a little over $17 in, so my estimate had been a pretty good one.

At the Enterprise rental car drop-off, I bade farewell to my trusty steed, that had actually spent most of its time with me stationary in parking lots, thanks to the generosity of Kimberly in Missouri and Frank in Nebraska, and I hauled my luggage to the terminal where I grabbed a bite of lunch, before clearing security and waiting at my gate. It was obviously going to be a very busy flight, and sure enough an announcement was made asking if anyone would like to check their carry-on baggage to free up space in the cabin. I did so, and immediately regretted it, as all of my costumes where in that bag – metaphoric eggs in a metaphoric basket, indeed.

When we were called to board, I had a wave of happy nostalgia come over me, as the plane was a Boeing 737. OK, I know this sounds silly, and one aeroplane cabin looks very like another, but when I started touring back in the 1990s the 737 was the staple workhorse of every airline, and I spent so much time in them, quite often flying in costume. Over the years Airbus have supplied many of the carriers, but today I could wallow in memories. One remarkable development in air travel over recent years is the ability to access an airlines database of movies on your phone or tablet, and as I settled into my seat, I perused the choices on offer before selecting ‘The Damned United’, the story of English football manager Brian Clough’s disastrous period in charge of the Leeds United soccer team in 1974 – he only lasted in the post for 44 days, coincidentally the same time that our last Prime Minister survived in her job before being forced to retire. Brian Clough would go on to great success later in his career, winning the European Cup twice with Nottingham Forest: somehow, I don’t foresee such heady heights for Liz Truss, certainly not in Europe…

My journey from Omaha to Philadelphia was made via Charlotte, North Carolina, which seemed to be a somewhat circuitous route, but when you are blasting through the air at 35,000 feet, geography does not mean much. The view out of the window was truly beautiful as we made our way over either the Nantahala or Pisgah National Forest, a setting sun casting a rich golden glow over the gentle wooded contours below and creating shadows that gave the terrain the look of the swelling waves on an ocean

My film finished as we approached Charlotte, and I spent the rest of the flight watching a travel programme featuring Stanley Tucci exploring the culinary delights of Rome. During this time the purser on the flight announced the wonderful rewards that would come my way if I signed up for a certain credit card, after which the cabin crew made their way up the aisle with leaflets complete with an application form – does anybody, has anybody, ever taken one of those forms on a flight, and applied? It seems a very archaic method of marketing, and I would be fascinated to know if it actually bears fruit for the financial institution involved, or for the airline.

We landed at Charlotte airport a little early, and there was a crazy rush to get off, as obviously some other passengers had a very tight connection time. I was able to relax and hold back as I had an hour in hand, and thanks to the America Airlines app I could see that my departure gate was in the same terminal as we were arriving at, which gave me a great sense of peace. I ambled off the plane and made my way from gate B5 to B 15 where there was a huge crowd waiting to board, Actually the large group was made up of passengers for three flights, one to Richmond, Virginia, one for Philly (mine) and one for Vegas. I made sure that I was in the correct mass of humanity, lest I should be erroneously whisked away to Nevada. I might have fun there, but my luggage would be in Philadelphia – to paraphrase the famous saying, ‘what arrives in Philadelphia stays in Philadelphia’.

The next flight, which would take me back North again was very busy, and the boarding process took a long time. As I stood in the aisle waiting to get back to seat A24, the captain came over the intercom in a somewhat agitate fashion ‘ ‘Hey guys, lets hurry this process up, we have a hurricane coming up from the South and we need to get this thing outta here and out run it! I think he fancied himself as starring in a 2nd World War adventure movie, although passengers did begin to take their seats with a renewed sense of urgency.

For my second movie choice I watched Ford Vs Ferrari, but the flight was not long enough to finish it, which was a shame. Philadelphia airport was its usual bustling self. I waited at baggage carousel 12, where a screen told me that the luggage from the Charlotte flight would be delivered, but for a long while nothing came, until I noticed a passenger that I recognised pulling his luggage from a different location. I asked him if he had indeed been on the Charlotte flight, and he replied that yes and the baggage was on carousel 10. I made my way there and looked at the screen, which told me that bags from flights arriving from Phoenix, Las Vegas, Dallas and Los Angeles would be delivered there: no mention of Charlotte, but sure enough there were my two cases making their languid way round and round. I collected them, and walked back up to carousel 12 and told the scattering of miserable folk who were forlornly still waiting for their bags that maybe they should try number 10 instead, and off they ran with a renewed sense of hope.

To get to the car rental garages at Philly you have to wait outside baggage reclaim next to a road, and wave down a courtesy bus for your particular company. Unfortunately, as I arrived at the curb, I saw a Hertz bus disappearing around the corner and so had to wait for quite a while, until another one appeared.

Over the last few years Bob Byers had set me up as Gold member with Hertz which gives me the great privilege of avoiding the lines at the counter and just going straight to a certain area of the garage and choosing my own car. Usually, I go for an SUV, but on this occasion, I spied a rather sleek looking Cheverolet Malibu, and loaded my bags into that and set off for the 40-minute drive to my hotel in the township of Mount Holly. It was almost 9 o’clock when I arrived, so I diverted to an Applebee’s restaurant which was near to the hotel, and had a supper of fish and chips. My accent attracted some attention and soon people were asking where I was from and on my reply of England, one guy said ‘Yep, I thought so! I thought either England or Australia, but you weren’t rude enough to come from Australia, so I figured it must be England!’ The conversation then turned to what I was doing here, and when it was discovered that I performed A Christmas Carol people started suggesting other towns where I should perform, most specifically one in Williams Arizona and another in Old Forge New York, both of which feature railroad journeys after the fashion of The Polar Express. The New York venue is in the heart of the Adirondack mountains, which feature as the setting of the James Bond novel, The Spy Who Loved Me, so it would be fun to go there.

When my dinner was finished, I made the short drive to my hotel, another Hilton Garden Inn, and soon was in my room. I unpacked my squashed-up costumes, so that some of the creases would have a chance to hang out overnight, and then gratefully let sleep take me after what had been a very long day off.

A Transition Day and a Pleasant Surprise

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Byers' Choice, Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Philadelphia

Sunday 8 November was a transition day during which I relocated from Omaha to Philadelphia – no shows, no appearances, no work.

After such a successful day’s performing on Saturday (indeed, I would go so far as to say that it was one of the best day’s performing that I can remember), I found it very difficult to get to sleep when I returned to the Element. My head was buzzing and the adrenaline still flowing late into the evening. I sat up eating Mario’s beautiful food and watched one of the later Harry Potter movies (I’m not sure which – possibly The Order of the Phoenix), before I drifted to sleep. Unfortunately I was awake again at 1, and then again at 3, which was extremely frustrating. To add to my woes the clocks went back an hour, so when I woke for a third time at 5am, it was actually only 4! (The clocks went back a week ago in England, so I’d already been through this once)

There was not much to be done – no lines to rehearse or costumes to collate, so I read for a little before getting up and starting to pack my cases ready for my flight out of Omaha, which wasn’t due to leave until 1.30 pm. When I dressed I made sure that I put on some of my brightest and most colourful socks (from the perfectly named Happy Socks company), so that when I removed my boots at the airport later that day I may bring a smile to the TSA agents and my fellow passengers.

At around 7.30 I had breakfast and then returned to the room where I watched a little more Harry Potter (one of the channels was running a Potter weekend, showing all the films back to back over and over again).

As 11 am was check-out time, I left room 615 and went to the lobby where I boarded the hotel shuttle bus, driven by the effervescent Ray, who regaled me with tales of other guests and passengers, some of whom had dared to criticise his driving style…..I kept quiet. The drive to Ebbley Airfield is only about twenty minutes, and soon I was pulling my cases into the small airport. At the baggage drop counter the lady not only took my large blue suitcase (which I was relieved to discover came in under weight for domestic travel), but also suggested that I checked my smaller roller case as well, as the planes I would be flying on were small and were fully booked meaning that overhead bin space would be limited. Usually I keep the small case with me at all times, as it has a costume in it, meaning I can go on stage even if the large case is lost, but as on this occasion I had no performances scheduled for a couple of days I decided to trust Delta Airlines and therefore gave myself an easier journey through the airport.

The line at security was long and I was glad that I didn’t have my roller case, as a little metal cleat holding the shoulder shoulder strap of my leather satchel (a gift from Liz l, embossed with my initials) had broken meaning that I was having to carry it under my arm, rather than slung casually and rakishly over my shoulder. Sadly my bright socks didn’t garner any attention or raise any smiles – but I tried!

Ebbley Airport is not a large hub so there was no long walk to my gate where I settled down and waited. I had a small salad for my lunch and read some more of my book, and watched people until we were called to board. The flight was indeed very busy but everyone dutifully observed the mask rule in our little sealed petri dish. The first flight lasted only an hour and took me into the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St Paul – a conurbation that is very well known to me, having performed in the area many times. As we flew in I could even recognise the apartment block where Liz and I had lived when I performed ‘To Begin With’ a few years ago.

The layover at Minneapolis was only a short one, so I had to make good progress through the airport from concourse C to F. I had time, though, to stop at a store and purchase myself a new water bottle (having left mine at home in the UK), and a small metal carabiner which was the perfect item to effect a repair to my bag.

I arrived at gate F1 just as boarding was commencing and once again the flight was packed to capacity. I would be flying to Philadelphia and this plane was larger and more modern, boasting seat back video entertainment. I scrolled through all of the choices available to me and in the end decided to re watch the movie version of Downton Abbey – it was very strange to know that I will be performing A Christmas Carol in that very house in just a few weeks time. The film is all a bit silly, but fun nonetheless.

Outside the window a most beautiful transition from day into night was occurring, with a red and gold sunset shrinking from a bright midnight blue in the centre of which Venus shone brightly next to a slim crescent moon.

Having admired the scene I turned my attention back to the film. Here is a very curious trivia fact about the film of Downton Abbey – did you know that the running time is exactly the same length as a flight from Minneapolis/St Paul to Philadelphia? You didn’t? Well, you do now! The closing credits were rolling just as our wheels touched down on Pennsylvanian soil.

As I walked through the airport I discovered why all American passengers are so diligent at wearing their masks, a recorded announcement reminded us of the fines imposed for violation – $1,500 for the first ‘offence’ and $3,000 for a second or subsequent infringement. That’s steep.

At baggage claim I was met by Bob Byers for the first time on this year’s trip – Bob and his wife Pam have managed my American trips for many years and are very good friends, as well as colleagues. This year’s trip had of course been planned around the Pandemic and it was inevitable that some venues would fall by the wayside and that was the case with a contract out in California, which should have occupied these few days. Unfortunately the venue in question didn’t feel that it could provide a suitably safe environment for their staff and audiences and regretfully cancelled the booking. This left Pam with a rather large hole to fill, but the Broad Street United Methodist Church in Burlington New Jersey leapt at the chance of having me back, hence my journeying to the East. Bob and Pam have an apartment in Philadelphia and had very kindly offered it to me as a base during these days. Burlington is not far from Phily, so I could easily drive there on the show day (using Bob’s car – more of which on another blog post), and I could play tourist on my free days.

When Bob and I arrived at the Condo, right in the very heart of the City, Pam was waiting for us and had cooked a delicious dinner – much needed – and we all sat and chatted and caught up with each other’s news.

There was a lovely surprise waiting for me too, for on the kitchen counter lay a copy of ‘Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biography of a Rail Crash.’ My book! My very first book! And it looked like a book, it felt like a book: it was real! Dickens and Staplehurst was actually published on October 28th, but the publisher had not yet sent me a copy, so this was the very first time that I had actually seen it. I felt a surge of pride holding the volume in my hand.

Now, like any author, the writing of the book is only half the job – I have to sell copies too, so here is the commercial: When I perform ‘The Signalman’ I have always introduced the piece by talking about Dickens’s involvement in the great Staplehurst rail crash that took place on 9th June, 1865. Dickens was truly fortunate to survive and wrote many letters detailing the shock he suffered in assisting with the rescue effort – 10 people were killed and many more seriously injured. I have always been fascinated by the many stories behind the accident – how did it happen, how could it have been averted, who was involved and what was learned? And a couple of years ago I started to dig more deeply and researched more diligently, and now the results of that research are available to all.

Copies of the book are available via a link on my website geralddickens.com, or if you would like a personalised signed copy you can order them direct from me by sending me an email to gerald@geralddickens.com.

Back in the apartment Bob and Pam made sure that I had everything I needed, said their goodbyes, and drove to their main home in Bucks County.

I lay in bed thinking that I could now add ‘author’ to ‘actor, director and producer’ in my publicity materials and with that happy thought I drifted off to sleep