A visit to Switzerland

I've read two or three Agatha Christie books, and of course they were ok. But I absolutely loved the tv series Poirot, based on her books. My favourite episode was called The Labours of Hercules, which I believe is the name of a work of art.

The scenery, Series 13 Episode 04 was lavish. The hotel where it was filmed was lavish. The story line was excellent, the acting faultless and I haven't finished watching it yet. But oh the scenery, and a funicular, and my long time readers will know I do like a good funicular. 

If you are still reading my blog, thanks to the person who pointed out Daily Motion to me to find older films and tv series, and there I found a not so good copy of the episode. I am not paying, so I cannot complain. The stills I took are far from illustrating the lavishness of the series, but you'll get your idea. The name of the uploader is oddly called Deaddogsdam.

Ok, here we go. A bit of research work will be needed.

The journey to the resort begins with the funicular. To appraise those who don't know, funiculars are rail vehicles that can climb steep hills by the weight of a connected descending car. Power is still needed but not much.

Ready to board below the mountain resort.  

 

A passing loop, before the car enters a tunnel. Spoiler alert, there is an avalanche whereby the tunnel is filled with snow, making the funicular inoperable. 

 

The view from the car looking upwards. The interior of the vehicle is a prop built in Pinewood Studios, London. Hey, and aren't we worried about AI?

The car creaked, squeaked and groaned as it carried its passengers to the ascent destination.

Perfectly safe.

Here's the hotel on the horizon.

Exiting the funicular. 

The hotel was for very swank guests. 

What wondrous views. 

The denouement: While the setting was Switzerland, it wasn't actually. Le funiculaire de Saint-Hilaire du Touvet is in France and was built to service a sanatorium, which is used as the hotel. Who knows where the hotel interior scenes were filmed. 

A filum

For some reason tonight I wanted to watch a disaster movie. Clearly not Towering Inferno, which I did see when it was released, before I lived in a tower, and I've seen Poseidon. Perhaps I should have watched Snakes on a Plane, or rewatched the original Jaws. This is possibly to avoid hearing anymore about our own Australian disaster of a couple of days ago. I feel emotionally drained. 

I consulted the oracle, aka Google, for a good disaster film, and I chose 2012. What a load of crap. I so want the featured family to die, and soon. The noise and loudness of the film is horrible, and I've turned it right down to a level where I cannot really hear the inane dialogue, but still it is loud. 

Better that I again watched Shelley die on a ship.

I'm in a bit of a mood tonight. Can you tell?

Just call me Tippi

Yes, my Tippi Hendren moment. I stepped onto the balcony, checking left to see if next door's window was open. It wasn't until I sat down that I notice this cockatoo sitting on the balcony railing. Blog fodder! But it will fly away if I go inside to get my phone. It didn't. I moved close to it and it didn't move.

Then there were three.

Two more arrived.

Then another two.

But wait. There are more, with one visible above. 

I fled inside, but I remember that didn't do Tippi much good.

The problem is that birds around here, aside from the Indian mynah birds I target with a spray jet to deter them from nesting, have lost their fear of humans. Just yesterday I was sitting outside at the cafe opposite having my afternoon double espresso, when a mudlark landed on my table. I shoed it away but I had to get my hand very close to it. It soon bounced back and I shoed it away again, and then again. There wasn't anything obvious on the table for it to eat. This is quite recent bird behaviour. I know someone in the apartment building next door was feeding cockatoos on her balcony. She stopped as she discovered how pushy they could be. I think the cockatoos have learnt that if there is a human on a balcony, there could be food for them. 

The Vandals, as EC calls them, smashed up the plant pots at the apartment next to neighbour HH. The owners are overseas and HH called their son, who came and cleaned up the mess. Many years ago, they smashed up one of our balcony pots. They will just pull away at a plant, the pot moves and falls off whatever it was sitting on. 

I may be in a film

Daddy was a cop on the east side of Chicago.

Back in the USA, back in the bad old days.

Sorry about the photos. They could have been a lot better. 

There was a warning that if you were near these cars, you could be included in a film. I saw the camera swing directly in my direction and some excitement on the set. Ah, no, that is the back of the camera, not the front. Their loss. 

A filum

It's been a while since I've watched a film. The last at a theatre was of course with Ray. 

I've watched Good Luck to You, Leo Grande,  and I really enjoyed it. It isn't a film that I would have been happy to pay full price to see at the cinema, but for free (thanks Anon), well worth my while. 

The Irish accented of exotic heritage actor Daryl McCormack was smoking hot and had great acting skills. I don't need to mention Emma Thompson's acting skills.  

It isn't a film I will forget. Sex among older people or what they may just think about in a sexual manner is interesting. Regrets at missed opportunities it seems from the film? 

Aside from the acting, the Leo character was just such a charmer with a beautiful Irish accent. I've since watched a couple of interviews of Daryl, and he seems so nice as a real (publicly performing) person.

Daryl is 188cm tall, 6'2" and has a very nice body and if you've seen the film, he was not behind the back door when gifting was handed out. 

I tried the same site for another film I had noted, Supernova. It's a film about an older gay couple, one who seems to have dementia. It is slow and ponderous but I will watch it to the end. It is free on YouTube. 

I hired a male sex worker for my 70th birthday. It didn’t go as planned

I am not 70, so it is not about me. It was a column written in our newspaper The Age. You can perhaps read it here.

The story is about a 70 year old single but sexually experienced woman who paid an extraordinary amount of money to hire a sex worker, something like AU$1300 for 3 hours, plus a few hundred for a hotel, for her 70th birthday present to herself. It wouldn't be much of a story if it all went well, would it. 

Older women and sex is something that enters my curious mind, curious in both senses. In my opinion she overegged the blancmange. She was trying to buy an emotional experience resulting in sex. She spoke to the bloke before hand more than once. She found they had things in common. She liked the sound of him and liked his looks. She was concerned about how he would react to her 70 year old body, and she should not be. It is a commercial arrangement. She made great preparations at the hotel before his arrival. While it remained all very polite and civilised, she realised it wasn't working and asked him to leave, which he did. 

The next day she called him and asked for a refund, which he did. She took no blame and decided it was his lack of professionalism. Maybe, maybe not. 

But honestly, why did she do it in such a hard and expensive manner? She lived alone so I kind of get why she wouldn't want a sex worker in her home. Why wouldn't she be content with a quick fuck with a hot rent guy for an hour in a motel room? If it was a gay man, it might be over in 30 minutes. I suppose it was a birthday present to herself and she wanted to go the whole hog a romantic experience. I don't think that is something that is you can buy.

The author mentioned a film with a similar theme. I have not heard of the film but it sounds interesting, Good Luck To You, Leo Grande. It stars Emma Thompson, so that is one positive, the second being the male actor Daryl McCormack, is quite attractive. Have you heard of it or seen it? I want to see the film and from my investigations, the easiest way is using YouTube for the cost of $5.

Ravin' about ravens

I feel a little like Tippi Hendren when I step out onto the balcony in the evening. Ravens are madly flying around, in pairs or small groups. They are gathering together and then dispersing before gathering again. As I am typing this in my peripheral vision I can see them flying in all directions. They are landing en masse nearby before, very late for birds, finding somewhere to roost. 

The native Australian raven is only found in southern Australia, not really above the latitude of Adelaide. They are larger than crows found in northern Australia but seem otherwise very similar. They are clever and resourceful birds and have varied diet and are rather fond of road kill. In spite of their large size and threatening black appearance, they are not a risk to humans. I've seen Indian Mynah birds chase them off, as I have seen wattle birds do the same. Some local councils have raven proof bins and others don't. Ravens have learnt of the delights to be found in rubbish bins and will pull everything out and make a terrible mess in their search for easy food.

We've lived here for twenty years now. We were initially bereft of birds but since either Melbourne's environment has improved and is more attractive to a huge variety of birds we now see, good, or a declining country environment is driving birds to city environs, bad, is an unknown. This is a lush year in my state and there is surely no reason for birds to visit the city for easy food, yet visiting they are doing. 

I won't post the worst clip from The Birds, but here is Tippi Hendren in a build up scene. She is now 92 years old.

Even at 8.30pm, nearly dark, the ravens are still flying close by the balcony with their mournful calls. I am scared. Update, 9.10pm they are still flying around and have not roosted. Update 10.10, small flocks were still flying around but then finally settled somewhere nearby. I can still hear them calling. Will they be lined up on my balcony railing in the morning? Should I take Tippi's fears onboard? I'm afraid.  I need I a comforting cuddle. 

Swedish Death Cleaning

It is an ongoing process. I need to be rid of cassette tapes, but there are treasures there. I've discarded most of my 'questionable' video collection on 8 and 16 MB USB sticks, consolidated to a couple of 32/64 and 100MB sticks. Much has just been deleted. No need to save special moments nowadays. They are there at the click of a button.

Some years ago R mentioned we needed to buy a new sound system to replace our 1990s sound system. I again put my foot down with a hard hand and said no. Firstly, we haven't used it for years. Secondly, it has a cassette player. As the unit wasn't used, apathy played its part.

I've made a start, by checking if the cassette player still works. Amazingly after not being used for perhaps fifteen years, it does still work. I have heaps of cassette tapes that I need to check before discarding. I will record some using my phone. Prominent on one cassette case is the word Jew. This refers to my audio recording from tv of a film called The Lucky Star. 

Bits

What happened to spring? There is normally a month or so when we don't need heating or cooling, but not this year. Sunday morning past was cold and I had the heating on for my and the twin boys benefit. Monday no heating or cooling needed. By Tuesday we needed cooling and every day since. The cooling is not working hard but just making life a bit a more comfortable. Some may judge us by our heating and cooling but I don't care. We like to be comfortable and why shouldn't we be.

John Gray of Wales mentioned the movie Mrs Harris goes to Paris after seeing it, and so we did today at Como Cinema. Suspend your belief and just enjoy the film for what it is. As with all British films, the acting was first class. 

Seems it will be July next year now when we go to Fiji to celebrate Ex Sis in Law's sixtieth birthday. 

Tomorrow is food shopping day in South Melbourne and the fortnightly day when I do the sums, that is fill in the ledger and pay the bills. 

Saturday we will either tour the St Kilda Pride Centre and have an early dinner with our Hairdresser Friend or take Mother out. Mother can be changed to Sunday. It is not like she will get a better offer.