Joshua Zamrycki's Weblog

It is now 5:00pm on August 5 and I am in Barcelona. In five hours I have a flight out of here and headed to my greatest adventure to date. Here’s the scoop (mind you, plans rarely end up how they begin): I’m flying with my bicycle and a very small bag to London where I’ll stay for about 10 days. During that time, I’m meeting a few friends and cycling down to Brighton and back (gotta see that eclipse!). After that, I’m flying up to Edinburgh in Scotland for the annual Fringe Festival – the largest theater festival in the world. I’ll hang out there for about a week or so and then start the real trek. Towards the end of August, I’ll hop on my bike and head west towards Glasgow and then south to England. I’m cycling all along the west coast with a tent on my back and a fire in my eyes. This part of the journey will take about two weeks and have me cycling through England’s Lake District (breathtaking but with annoying mountains) and eventually to Liverpool where I intend to catch my flight back home to Barcelona on September 8. When all is said and done, I’ll have cycled about 500 miles! Having never done a bike trip of this magnitude, I don’t exactly know what I’m getting myself into. I do know that I have a thirst for adventure, a desire to achieve, and a shiny new bike helmet. If I make it back alive you know what my next email will be about. Wish me luck.

Gripping the handlebars of life,
Josh

Oh yeah, one more notable thing happened during Meg’s stay. I played in a beach volleyball tournament with three friends of mine. Now, when Robert said that the tourney was Saturday and Sunday, I figured, “Great! Two days of volleyball.” We arrived and Robert started setting up a tent on the beach in the designated “tournament tent area”. I thought, “That’s odd”. “Robert, why is everyone setting up tents for a volleyball tournament?” “Because it’s a two day tournament. So we’re camping.” “No, really. Why are you setting up that tent?” He then pointed to a sign that said “24 horas de volley playa”. Not only was the tourney for two days, it was two days straight without stopping! We started playing at noon on Saturday and had games all day, ALL NIGHT, and all the next day until noon on Sunday! We did very well considering. Out of over one hundred people, we made it all the way to the semi-finals and finally lost to the Catalunyan National Men’s Team (a very close game) taking sixth place overall and receiving medals. We were all pretty dead at the end of the day(s) and so we went home and took a much needed siesta. Sorry Meg.

Only three days after Jennifer left for the States, my second summer guest flew in. Meg, another friend from Binghamton and former sweetheart, took three whole weeks off of work to take in the culture and the beauty that is Spain. She arrived just as I was going crazy getting ready for an audition I had for Rent. Yes, Rent is coming to Spain next year and I went to the auditions. As many of you know (some better than others) I can dance fairly well, but my singing voice resembles that of an intoxicated 13 year old going through puberty. They wanted me to prepare two songs (one ballad and one rock’n'roll) and bring a headshot so I bought a Beatles backup tape, practiced Yesterday and Twist and Shout until both Meg and myself agreed I should be put to sleep, and went to the nearest metro station to get a few pictures taken from those little tourist booths. After my audition was over, the casting director said, “Thank you” but I think it was for me leaving and not coming. Oh well. This is a paragraph about Meg. Highlights? We explored Montserrat (Catalunya’s most famous and religiously significant mountain), went to the Barcelona Aquarium and saw weird fishes, went horseback riding (my first time), saw Something About Mary in Spanish (Algo Pasa Con Mary), and went swimming in the Olympic swimming pool at night (and in the rain). But the absolute highlight of those three weeks (at least for me) was our little adventure up to Figueres and Cadaqués near the Spain-France border. The plan was to go camping near the beaches in Cadaqués and then go inland to the Dalí museum in Figueres. Well, we arrived in Cadaqués and just started walking. The countryside was amazing with its rocky beaches, crystal clear waters, quaint fishing ports, and jagged cliffs along the Mediterranean Sea. I’m pretty sure we started along some sort of trail, but I made sure to veer as soon as the opportunity arose. We found this little path leading off in who knows what direction so we took it. I wanted to explore. We eventually found ourselves on the side of a beautiful cliff following a narrow and not always safe path. It started getting dark so, when we finally hit a dead end, we decided to set up camp right then and there along the cliff. I don’t think Meg was very happy about that (sorry Meg). Me, I loved it! Sure, the ground was hard and bumpy, the mosquitoes fierce, and night noises abundant, but we were far from the noises of civilization and that, along with the quick consumption of an entire bottle of Cava (Catalunyan champagne), helped me to fall asleep even with that damn rock sticking into my lower back. The next day was the Dalí museum and I know Meg and I both enjoyed that. I’m sure she had a great time during her stay, but I don’t know if she’ll be coming back any time soon.

July 5 saw the arrival of my first summer guest. Jennifer, a friend from university and fellow AIDS educator, flew in from Boston for a week’s stay in paradise with yours truly before beginning a demanding year at American University’s Law School in Washington D.C. I was thinking about surprising her with a trip to Pamplona to see the annual running of the bulls, but then realized that would cut her time in Barcelona down from a week to only a day and a half so I nixed the torros and I think it was for the best. We had a great time and some friends of mine who went to Pamplona said it was way overrated. Highlights from her trip? We got lost in the huge hedge maze at the Labyrinth Parc, took a night of Salsa lessons at Luz de Luna, explored the white beaches down in Sitges, and met up with Lluis, an old friend of hers who is from Barcelona, and he took us on a private tour of the Museum of Catalunyan History where he used to work. If you’re thinking about visiting Barcelona but can’t make up your mind, ask Jen – she’ll tell you who the host with the most is.

Now for some good news. I may have told some of you that, aside from theater, I’ve been dubbing some foreign movies into English. Nothing huge like Star Wars or Tarzan, but some very (ahem) interesting films to say the least. Well, the company I’m working with may be getting the contracts to start work on some cartoon projects! Soooo cool. The first one is an animated version of Don Quixote of La Mancha which, as you may have guessed, is from here in Spain. Apparently the director and producer that I work with not only like me but they trust me too (foolish Spaniards) because they’ve asked me to both help with the dubbing AND with the translation. Someone has already translated the dialogue into English (very poorly) and now it’s my job to adjust the lines so it’d be understood and appreciated in the US and so the dialogue matches the video. This is fantastic. Not only are cartoons more fun to work with than the other stuff, but they pay more too! The other project that’s in the works is an original cartoon series called Scruff that a Catalan animation company would like to create for release in the States. I hope I hope I hope I get to do one of the voices on this one. Scruff has a little jumpy friend who’s a flea that I think I’d be perfect for. So between all the new stuff and continuing with those old projects, it doesn’t look like I’ll have to teach English next year like I did this past year. I’ll keep you posted.

Remember that casting I went on in Zaragoza for the theater company that’s going to travel all around Spain next year? Well I finally heard from them and they offered me the job. Strange, though – it wasn’t actually the show I auditioned for. This company has two shows traveling around Spain – one is Henry Frog (the one I told you about). The other is Frankenstein. Well, they wanted me for Frank. There are only four actors in this show: Dr. Frankenstein, the monster, The Doc’s girlfriend, and then there’s me. I’d be playing Igor, a police officer, a hermit, a concerned friend, and a monk. That’s right – five parts! And the comic relief to boot. I told them I’d take the job and they were very happy. Then came the question: “Hey Josh, are you legal?” Ugghhh!! “No, not actually. But I’m working on it (sheepish grin).” “Ah, well that may be a problem.” And it turned out to be a big one. So much, in fact, that they said they couldn’t take the chance in hiring an illegal immigrant in case anything happened when I was driving the van cross country, hanging lights, or setting up the scenery. We were both upset because they very much wanted to have me part of the cast. So in the end, no Frankie for Joshie. Oh well, I’ve got tons of other stuff to fill my plate with.

The Dice, the show that I was both directing and acting in, has been cancelled and I’m pissed. No, I’m not really that upset anymore but I definitely was. I really liked the way everything was going. The show was impossible to perform when one person in a three man cast has both ego and commitment problems. Freddy is no longer my friend. He’s a jerk. None of you are allowed to talk to him anymore, OK? I have graciously chalked this one up to a learning experience and life goes on. That’s all I have to say about that.

My Barcelona theatrical debut in Ben Johnson’s Volpone has since passed and the Twelve x Twelve Theatre Company and myself made it a great success. We played to three nearly sold out audiences making enough money to cover all of our expenses as well as pay for a feast of a dinner for the entire cast and crew on closing night. I enjoyed the show immensely, but I think the best part of being part of this production was meeting a whole new group of really cool people. Before I joined this company, I had actually been trying to avoid meeting English speaking people (especially Americans) thinking my Spanish wouldn’t improve as quickly as it would if I was surrounded by Spaniards. This is definitely true. But what I’m giving up in language, I’m making up for in pure happiness. There is something special about a person who loves performing that I am very much attracted to. My “theater friends” at university defined a very special part of my life. God I love you crazy bastards. And even in Spain, I find myself attracted to the same lunacy that helps to make me feel whole. Granted, most of these new buddies are Brits, but nobody’s perfect. Anyway, after a very successful run, my director asked me if I would be interested in acting in his next production here in Barcelona. I said yes before I even knew what the project was. I now know and am very excited so say that we’re starting rehearsals at the end of September for an early December production of Aldus Huxley’s A Brave New World! I don’t think a stage version has ever been done before so James (my director) is taking the summer to write a physical theater adaptation. Cool. I can’t wait. And then, if Barcelona refuses to let go of my heart, our spring show will be A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You’re all invited!

Having successfully avoided being hospitalized for my first 10 months here in Spain, you can imagine my surprise when I suddenly found myself in the Barcelona Hospital not once but twice in the same week! The first one wasn’t all that serious (for me). I was awoken at an all-too-early 11am by a phone call from my friend Annie from Oregon. I translated her hysterics into something along the lines of “My friend visiting from the US is having an epileptic seizure, the ambulance is on the way, and I need someone to translate for me. How quick can you be here?” I told her eight minutes, groggily, yet quickly, hopped on my bicycle and arrived on the other side of town six minutes later just after the ambulance had gotten there. No one at Annie’s place could speak Spanish all that well so I played translator and explained everything to the men in white before they hopped into the ambulance and I got back on my bike. I actually beat the ambulance to the hospital and helped sort out the details while Annie’s friend was taken care of. He turned out fine – crises averted. Oh yeah, I mentioned a second visit, didn’t I? Well, the next day I was playing volleyball on the beach (surprise surprise) and I was up at the net for a block. I jumped. He jumped on the other side of the net. He hit the ball. I blocked the ball. I landed feet first (as usual). He landed on his knees. The whole thing wouldn’t have been that serious at all if one of his knees hadn’t landed on top of my foot (from eight feet in the air). I could have then simply walked off the minor pain – that is, if there hadn’t been a rock between my foot and his knee when it happened! Ouch. The next day my foot got horribly infected. Twenty four hours later it swelled to twice its normal size. Visions of amputations began to run through my head so I promptly went to the hospital (again). Not being a resident, they wanted me to pay for the visit. I quickly weighed the options of paying $70 or losing a foot. I told them to bill my dad in the US. They gave me all sorts of cool medication and told me I wasn’t allowed to go to the beach until it got better. NOOOO!!! I couldn’t wear shoes or socks for about three weeks and now, about a month after the “incident”, my left foot has two pretty (and probably permanent) pink marks on the top of it that look very much like the Spanish islands of Mallorca and Menorca. Memories.

Enjoying those Pagan Holidays (as we all know I do), my flat mates, friends and I all trekked to the top of Gaudi’s Parc Güell to celebrate the very first day of summer. Paolo and I rode our bikes to the park (an impressive feat that can only be appreciated when you know the altitude of the park), the 12 of us then prepared a picnic (which means a lot of wine) and quietly entered the park just around midnight, well after the park had officially closed. We proceeded to make our way up to The Three Crosses which is a gathering of three stone crucifixes at the very top of the park knowing this location provides one of the most spectacular views of the entire city because it’s on the side of Tibidabo, Barcelona’s highest mountain. We rang the summer in with style and the surprise firework display over the Mediterranean Sea capped things off nicely. The mass quantities of wine and sangria only made the 4am bicycle ride home that much more interesting.