A film crew is a like any other nomadic tribe: you eat together, drink together, sometimes sleep together and you move through the world in unison. But between hunts and gatherings is the vision quest, when you go walkabout, see who you are by seeing where you are.
I offer here some stories from travels I’ve taken apart from cameras and crew.
I offer here some stories from travels I’ve taken apart from cameras and crew.
MOHAMMED, MOSES AND THEGENERAL
by Rob Harris Tour operator Hassan Khattab checked his client list against the passengers disembarking Air Malta flight 710 at Cairo Airport, rounded up the dozen of us who were Holy Land Travel customers - along with one nattily dressed American who said he wasn’t a Holy Land traveler but would listen to Hassan’s sales pitch in exchange for a ride to Giza - and guided us through customs where not a single passenger’s bag was inspected. I had a four-day break from work on Gladiator in Malta and I wanted to see the Great Pyramids. Actually, I wanted to go home. I missed my wife, my kids and my dogs – in no particular order. But it was too long and too expensive a flight to Upstate New York. Holy Land travel offered an affordable package of airfare and hotel for around $800. So, here I was, far from anyone I knew, filling the gap in my heart with adventure and the gap in my knowledge of the Arab world with a first-time, first-hand experience. I sat up front with the driver, paying Hassan as little attention as possible. I wasn’t interested in the tour he was offering; I wanted to explore Egypt clumsily, aimlessly, organically. Maybe even a little dangerously. |
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THE REUNION
by Rob Harris The thing I remember most about Jody’s funeral was waiting at back of the gravesite crowd, avoiding familiar faces hovering near the widower. I hadn’t seen these guys in decades and this wasn’t a great place for a catch-up chat. I’d split from these boyhood friends, these middle-aged men with whom I’d come of age, over my early opposition to the Vietnam War. Most of them eventually came around to my political viewpoint but by then our paths had diverged too dramatically: me into the Age of Aquarius, them into a surf-centric clique that I was only a part of during those foolish teenage years when we all want to fit in. The other thing I remember from the funeral was how Dan contained his grief with trance-like stoicism through the service but finally broke at the burial. I knew how much Dan hated looking weak or emotional. The only safe emotion for him – for many men, I suppose, but certainly for Dan – was anger. Jody was in high school when they met. I think he fell in love with her because she knew when to let him rant and how to tamp out the fire. Without Jody, anger wasn’t a safe harbor anymore. I think his tears embarrassed him. When I found a private moment to pay my condolences to my old friend, he clung to me as tightly as I’ve ever been held. He told me about the Reunion next weekend. “You’ve gotta come.” Did I have a choice? click to read full story |
CHILE - A TEST OF FAITH
by Rob Harris My journalist girlfriend had accompanied me to film locations on three continents, in dozens of cities and backwaters during our two years together. Now it was my turn to tag along with her. Nicola’s professional skills were unquestionable. But my lovely mate wasn’t the most organized person on the planet - preferring to trust that the universe will provide, over actual planning. We’d travelled together many times but usually with a movie’s travel coordinator making the arrangements. Even then, the race to airports could look like a scene out of Fast and Furious. When she travelled alone, the question “where are you staying?” would often be answered with “I’ll figure it out when I get there.” With nothing tying me to any particular place for a time, I trusted in Nicola and the universe to get us to Northern Patagonia, by plane, car and ferry, to a destination that was only a forest on the Chilean map. Her assignment for The Ecologist magazine was to track down and bag an interview with one of the environmental world’s most dedicated and effective crusaders, living in one of the world’s more remote corners. In the early 1960s, Douglas Tompkins and his then wife, Susie, were ski bums bringing in a buck here and there to support their outdoor sporting activities in Northern California and around the world. A high school dropout with a big brain and a low boredom threshold, Douglas became an avid rock climber and, at age twenty, started hiring himself out as a mountaineer guide. Waiting for somebody slower to catch up – whether on a mountain or in conversation – didn’t suit his temperament. So, in 1964, he and Susie created their own business. It started on a shoestring but the outdoor-wear company they called The North Face was soon worth millions. He sold his shares to invest in a clothing company with Susie. Read full story |
