Teide

12-18-2008

I woke up at 6:30 this morning and took the 477 bus to Los Cristianos. After an hour of walking and wave watching there I took the 342 up La Teide, the highest mountain of the Canary Islands.

This island is extremely unique. Due to the differing altitudes as you climb/drive up the montain, there are differing micro-climates. There are completely different plants growing below the clouds, from where the clouds sit, to above the clouds where nothing grows. Once you get above the town of Vilafor, about a fifth of the way up the mountain, everything is part of the Parque Nacional del Teide.

I got off the bus above the clouds at a basecamp/hotel, Parador de Turismo. From there I hiked four hours, eight kilometers, along the sunny, windly, and beautifully serene Siete Cañadas route. While windy at times, every so often I would be surrounded by cliffs and rocks that completely blocked the wind. When they did, I heard a silence like I've never heard.

That eight kilometers led me to one of the other two basecamps on the mountain, El Portillo. From there, I had another four hours of bus journey to get back to Puerto de Santiago, but again. Worth it’s weight in credit crunch.

The Splendor of Tenerife

12-17-2008

Today I took another tour with Manfred. The first one rocked so hard, I couldn’t resist another. This tour went in the opposite direction of the first to the north east side of the island towards La Laguna. There were ocho of us in this little beat up mini-van this time, filled to capacity. I actually had to plead with Manfred to let me go along. But totally worth it.

This tour involved a bit more driving and stopping but we saw some amazing views as we drove high into the Monte de las Mercedes region. Every half an hour or so, we’d stop and take another breathtaking look at the island that lay beneath us.

We took a walk around a cave village, a town in which everyone builds their homes into the sides of the mountains around them. Since these villages are so far removed from the more civilized parts of the island, they are mostly self-sufficient. They farm on terraces built into the sides of the mountains and most homes ran solely on solar power until three years ago when the island government brought electricity and street lights to the village. Manfred was puzzled as to why they would do this, as the inhabitants of these little villages are mostly elderly and sleep early. The government even built a lovely community center six years ago that is rarely used. Manfred assumes they are trying to beautify the area to attract people to live there. Because with the average age of the inhabitants around 55, the area may die out soon.

I could see a huge market for people wanting to live there, perhaps even monthly time-shares. Many people I know from Point would jump at the opportunity to live in a secluded village and sustain themselves for a number of years. I’m going to look at investing in this place….

After another short drive, we ended up in another mountain village where we met with an old shop owner who supplied us with the most delicious goat cheese I’ve ever eaten, some bread, and vino rojo.

He had the most ecliptic collection of random alcohol bottles I’ve ever seen. His collection of extremely old products also made me giggle. Emmet, the Irish guy on the tour, bought some batteries from the shop keeper. Upon putting them in his camera, he quickly realized that they had lost all their charge. To support the old guy, I purchased a Kinder Bueno candy bar. The visit to this little mountain shop was definitely one of the highlights of the day.

From there we drove further up the Monte de las Mercedes and took a hike through the “magic forest.” The vegetation here was quite unique.

And we got some more incredible views.

Our last stop was one of the only white sand beach on Tenerife.

The sand was shipped over from the Sahara desert to create a lovely holiday stop for locals and tourists alike. I was hungry so ordered what looked like onion rings on a bun. A British guy walked up next to me and asked what I had ordered. I said, “clamarie, it looks like onion rings on a bun.” He replied, “yeah, that’s not onion rings, that’s squid.” And sure enough it was, but it was also delicious.

Once I got back to the guesthouse, I grabbed my backpack and Manfred gave me a ride down to the bus station in Puerto de la Cruz where I took a bus to Los Gigantes and met up with Rachel at our next amazing accommodation, Hi! Tamaimo Tropical.

While the place was incredible and had much to do, I have a long day of hiking ahead of me tomorrow. So sleep took priority.

Around Tenerife

12-16-2008

After doing some interneting at a café in La Orotava, we decided to find a beach that actually had some sun. That meant heading to the west coast towards Los Gigantes, which just so happen to be where our next stay was in Puerto de Santiago.

We arrived in Puerto de la Cruz, which is were we needed to catch the bus, but soon found out that the next bus to Santiago didn't leave for another 2 hours. So we spent some more time in la Cruz, walking along the surf side, and listening to the waves crashing against the shore. There were some amazing resorts and public pools. We tried to imagine what this place would look like in the summer, with more sun and figured it must be more lively.

Puerto de Santiago was lovely after we took our hour and a half bus ride there. But before too long, we headed back to La Orotava.

Masca Gorge

12-15-2008

Our guest house owner Manfred runs his own little tours. For €28, he packed four of us into his little red mini-van, drove to the northwestern side of the island, and took us on a guided tour of the Masca Gorge, probably the most beautiful area of this island.

We drove an hour to a tiny town where we met a hiking bus that took us to an even tinier town at the top of the Masca gorge. From there we hiked four hours through some absolutely breath-taking landscape. The pictures say more than I can.

We started in a rainy, misty, wet part of the gorge, but the further we hiked the dryer it got.

 

In the beginning stairs were cut into the rock to make for an easy start, but after those first 100 meters, it was rough, raw hiking. The way I like it.

Quite windy at times...

Through crevasses.

Manfred taught us about water canals that were dug in the gorge in the late 1800's to supply the surrounding villages with fresh water. 

And how their discarded tools were made into part of the trail.

As we broke into the sunlight, we were stalked by a cat who I named Senor Gato. He liked me because I fed him….and probably because I named him.

 

At the end of the gorge, was a picturesque beach, only accessible by boat or by taking the four-hour journey we just took. While a bit rocky, it was a welcome warm sight after the damp walk we just took.

It was a bit choppy, but that didn’t stop me from getting in the water. With the waves crashing against the rocky shore, walking in from the beach was not an option. I had to walk over this concrete walkway out to a round platform in the water. Manfred assured me it was safe and it more or less was. I’m always shocked at how strong currents are in the ocean. I thought I was going to get smashed upon that concrete platform a few times, but my strong swimming held out.

I dried off just in time to board our dolphin watching boat. It was really entertaining watching people attempt to board this bouncing boat as the captain carefully maneuvered the boat to keep it from drifting to far away or from crashing into the platform.

As we pulled away from the gorge a full spectrum rainbow bid us farewell.

 

We eventually pulled up to some fish nurseries where we were able to see some live dolphins pick off the fish that made it through the nets. A few even jumped out of the water for us, but mostly it was dorsal fins and blowholes. But I’d rather see that from dolphins in the wild, than a full body view of a dolphin in a tank.

After a little wait in the ocean side tourist area of Los Gigantes, we took a bus back to the little red mini-van where we drove back to La Orotava.

We walked into town that night and grabbed some dinner with Patrick and Arnita, the other two hikers on our tour today. I don’t know how I became the Spanish expert in our group of four but it was up to me to communicate with the waiter, which with Rachel was rough as she had specific wants. Poor Arnita had to have all her meals gluten free, but she had a small card with all her needs printed in Spanish, which helped a lot. The highlight from this place was the pumpkin soup, delectable.  

It's Also Winter in Tenerife

12-14-2008

We came here for the beaches and the sun, and neither really seemed to cooperate. A bus from La Orotava down the valley to Puerto de la Cruz was pretty cheap and not long so we decided this popular beach would be the way to go.

While the black sand on the beach was beautiful to walk through along the beach, the huge waves and rip-tide justified the red flag being raised which according to the signage around the beach meant “swimming and water activities are forbidden.”

We didn’t see this sign until after we ventured into the water.

Nothing dangerous though. We basically went in enough to say we went in. You could feel the strength of the rip-tide just standing in the knee deep water.  So we really didn’t dare venture too far into the rough seas. A few others dared the waters after us, but before too long the authorities arrived to rope off the beach. But hey, we got in.

Down the street from the beach we found a stadium with what looked like local futbol teams battling each other. Right next to the stadium was a small church with a public tower which we walked up to watch the game from.

Puerto de la Cruz entertained us for a few more hours as we walked. But we eventually took a bus up to La Laguna, a bus which we never actually got off due to crappy weather and took back to Puerto de la Cruz. We got to see some beautiful parts of the island though, through rain-dropped windows.

Upon our return to the guesthouse we decided to cook our dinner, which consisted of noodles, tomato sauce, and cheap wine. That is, until we invited a couple other guests to join us. Then Patrick from Germany brought in some delicious goat cheese and olives which helped to spice up the sauce. Carl, who stays free at the guesthouse and does odd jobs to keep it up, ate with us too. I felt bad not knowing German with Carl because his English was very limited and I hated leaving him out of conversations. All the more reason why I’m diving into German and Spanish when I get home. 

Settling in La Orotava

12-13-2008

The limo ride was the just the beginning of a long day of travel: limo, to plane, to bus, to taxi, then finally to 24 Calles Marques en La Orotava, Tenerife. We arrived at our guesthouse in the late afternoon. After that long day of travel, we just wanted to relax. So we walked around the typically quaint Spanish town and got to know our surroundings. We did a bit of grocery shopping so we could cook at the guesthouse and defray some eating out costs. 

We called it an early night as Rachel had not slept much the night before and I had to work on my final externship paper. 

This is the view from the roof of our little guest house, nestled right in the middle of 

La Orotava.

Leaving London in Style

12-13-2008 (early morning)

Yes, that is a Hummer Limo, and that’s how I got to the airport this morning. Sure I may have put more of a carbon footprint on the earth than I needed to this morning, but once in my life 

won't hurt.

Thursday, at the Bang Staff Christmas party, I was told I’d have a limo at my disposal. Throughout the day yesterday, I kept trying to call Peter, our advert director, to see if that was actually going to happen. However, with each call, I couldn’t get a hold of him. So towards the late afternoon, I was giving up hope.

Then just was we were finishing up our shisha (hookah), I got a call from Peter. He told me I’d be getting a call from the limo service shortly and that we’d work out the details.

So after a call at 6:00pm the previous day, this limo picked up Rachel and I at 3:00am right outside MTH on York Terrace East.

Despite the heat not exactly working and the driver almost getting in an accident, that was the best free limo ride in London that I’ve ever had.... and I have Peter Terry to thank for it!

Tying Loose Ends

12-12-2008

For my last day in London, today was rather uneventful. Partly because I forgot what wine hangovers do to me. Slept in till about 10am and still had a pulsating headache.

My boss reminded me last night at the party of my final task to perform for Bang Radio, one final blog. That’s what the remainder of my morning entailed. I thought it was quite sentimental if I do say so myself. I’ll spare you the link:

It’s my 99th day in London. Tomorrow, I fly back to the land of beer and cheese, my home state, Wisconsin. The past one hundred days have been an absolutely incredible experience. Much of that has to do with this amazing city.

Taking daily jogs in Regent’s Park, hopping on a bus down to the West End for a show, shopping for things I’d never find at home in Camden, seeing bands that I’d have to travel all over the states to see, taking in history and art at the many London museums, and of course the tourist sites of Big Ben, London Eye, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Trafalgar Square and the list goes on. This city has made my experience unforgettable.

As time went on, I got to know the city better than the average tourist. I was fortunate enough to discover Brent, specifically Harlesden. There’s an almost small town atmosphere in this neighborhood, even though it lies within this monster of a city. An atmosphere where people seem to care for each other and help out one another. The diversity in this area also makes it extremely special to London and to me. Where I’m from, there are a lot of the same people. But here, there’s a wide variety from all over the world sharing themselves with Brent, making it all the better. Brent has made my experience unforgettable.

Every weekday (well except for my touristy Friday’s off), I got off the Bakerloo Line at Willesden Junction or got off the 18 bus at Park Parade and walked down Harlesden High Street to BANG Radio. Here, I not only volunteered to assist the station in going where it needed to go, but I also took a lot from it as well. Not that I robbed the place when no one was looking, but I took away professional experiences from a community station that is making leaps and bounds in London. Being a part of a station as it goes through the many changes Life/BANG has over the past couple of months definitely taught me a thing or two… or 22. As much as I gained professional work experience, I also learned many “Life lessons” (pun intended). BANG Radio has made my experience unforgettable.

Most importantly though, I’ve come to know some wonderful people at BANG Radio. In the short 90 some days that I’ve worked with them, they’ve helped me develop as a professional audio engineer and also as a person. In their own unique way, every person at BANG Radio has taught me something. There’s no way I could every properly thank the whole team for the experience I’ve had there. So I guess this blog will have to do. Thank you all. The people at BANG Radio have made this experience unforgettable.

I hope this is only a short hiatus with London and not a final goodbye. Only time will tell. So until that time, cheers!

After the blog writing, I packed the remainder of what I had to pack. Then to ISH where I spent my last £2.30 on my lunch staple of a turkey and cranberry baguette and Sweet Chili Kettle chips (I’ve gotten complete hooked on these by the way). I said my goodbyes to Issac and Zorra, two of the café workers who brightened up my breakfast every morning.

I took my lunch to go and walked up to Camdentown where I told Chad and Kim I’d meeting them for one last hookah, or shisha as it is known here. With my bonus from work, I figured I’d treat mis amigos, but they were picky. Kim wanted strawberry shisha, Chad wanted mint. Being the amazing facilitator that I am, I compromised: strawberry shisha and mint tea to warm our souls on this typically damp London afternoon.

We walked about Camden for a while. This is definitely one part of London I’ll miss the most. Free spirits uniquely expressing themselves through art, clothing, and music, I can only imagine what this area of London must have been like during the swinging 60’s.

From Camden, I stopped by Harlesden to drop off some luggage at Gabriella’s place, as I’m storing it there while I’m in the Canary Island of Tenerife for the next week.

Upon returning to Westminster, I stopped by ISH bar to see who was around. Surprisingly, Issac, who is not a big drinker, was there and we had a chat and an email exchange over my last pint of ISH Carlsburg, which had become my beer of choice in London.

That one beer was enough for me since it was already 11:00pm and I had to be awake in 4 hours.

Out with a Bang

12-11-08

It was my last day at work. No tears fell really, but it was sad, and surprisingly not filled with much work, yet it was a long day. Following which, we had a long night ahead of us as well. Because tonight was the Bang Staff Christmas Party.

Perhaps it is coincidence that my last day just so happen to fall on the day of the staff Christmas party. I just think they wanted to send me off in style. They had a nice spread of a hors d’oeuvre’s style buffet and 30 free bottles of wine all compliments of the Holiday Inn. All of this supplied simply for displaying a banner on Bang Radio’s website.

Despite the long day at the office, everyone let the spirit of the season fill them with glee. Personally, I think the free wine was responsible for filling people with glee. I know I got drunk. Got drunk and ate more than my share of the amazing buffet complete with breaded shrimp, club sandwiches, buffalo wings, and delicious chocolate dessert balls.

Later in the night the sales director, Peter, called me up to the front of the room and presented me with a gift card of £50 and an ‘audio goodbye’ CD. Plus, Peter has promised me that he could get me a limo ride either out clubbing with my mates or to the airport. Either would be incredible.

Warhorsing

12-10-2008

Wednesdays I normally start my morning a bit later, as I don’t have to be into work till about 12-12:30. This week was a bit different since I had to queue around 8:45am at the National Theatre in order to get tickets to see Warhorse.

I had some lovely company though with Kat. You may remember her from the ISH karaoke and construction building freeze tag. She met me at ISH reception this morning at 8:00am with two coffees in hand. We hoped on a 435, got off at Trafalgar, and walked over the Thames to the National Theatre only to find a queue had already formed with still 45minutes till the box office opened.

The wait was worth it though. We got our tickets. I couldn’t be more pleased since that show was probably the best I’ve seen in London.

 

It’s about the 1914-18 war, except from the perspective of a horse named Joey. It begins with Joey as a foal and how he is bought by a drunken farmer, raised, and subsequently loved, by the farmer’s son.  As the war breaks out, Joey is sold to the army. His strength and good upbringing save his life though, as he is put to use as a general’s escort as opposed to infantry. The farmer’s son eventually misses Joey too much and joins the army in order to search for him. From there it turns into Saving Private Ryan, but with a horse. The show is incredibly moving and extremely unique. Mostly because of the puppets.

Joey is actually a life-sized wooden framed horse that three men operate throughout the show, one on each set of legs and another controlling the head. Their incredible skill in moving that horse makes the audience forget there are even puppeteers. The lifelike way in which they move that puppet is astounding.  Especially when there are two of these life-size horses on stage at once. 

The sets were minimal and interactive with the movements of the cast. There was a torn page from a book flown in at the stage top, which projected scenery and video in sketches, very tasteful and artistic.

And the music. Awesome. Mostly chorus and the small instrumental parts were carried out on stage. There was a narrator / inner monologue of Joey who was in every seen, in the same costume, but yet fitting the scene well as he sang the story in an English folk song style. All around, a brilliant show.

To rewind to earlier in the day, I got my hair cut before work today by a nice Brazilian man who spoke no English. I decided I did not have the patience for dreads as I know that in order to have them look the way I’d like it’d take 3 years…. just not patience enough. And while the Brazilian guy was very meticulous, I still hate the way it looks.

As Cold as Ice

12-9-2008

As mentioned two posts ago, time is running out. So tonight I had to take in a London site I can’t find anywhere else: The Absolute Ice Bar. After visiting it though, I came to find out that these bars exist in large cities all over the world. But I wanted to see the London one.

Basically, the ice bar is just what it sounds like, a bar made entirely of ice. The floor, pillars, walls, sculptures, tables, seats, chandelier, the bar itself, and yes, the glasses were all made of the purest ice imported from Sweden. Apparently, it lasts 6 months before they have to import more ice. In order to keep people comfortable and buying Absolute Vodka mixes for their entire 45 minute time slot, they supply each visitor with a parka / overcoat, making everyone at the bar look like Eskimos.

£12.50 entrée fee and that includes your first drink. Was the price worth it? Well, when am I ever going to be able to drink in a bar made entirely of ice again? Kimberly and I had an icy blast. I snuck my ice glass out and licked it the whole walk home up Regent’s street. The glass even lasted me as long as the ISH bar, where I ordered a shot of Sambukah in it before it completely melted. 

I'll Miss MTH 179

12-8-2008 

A little flat that looks out on to Regent's park in central London. 

It will be hard saying goodbye to this place. 

Even it is a touch small....

Running and Music

12-7-2008

Time is running out. I have a few options. Run around this city like a chicken with my head cut off, stop at the sites and snap a quick picture, and just get completely wiped out. Or I could take the little time I have and fill it with meaningful London experiences that I know I’ll enjoy and cherish. I chose the latter of the two. 

I got a little extra sleep this morning in preparation for an intense run up Primrose Hill. Why I waited till the last week in London to see this beauty of a park I’ll never know. It’s wonderful and much closer than I thought. Just on the other side of Regents. Since I was running, I didn’t have my camera and hence didn’t get a picture. But this is one of those moments I’m going to keep with me, locked in the synapses of my mind just like all my Regent’s Park runs.

Primrose hill before me. Scatters of people about the park, but not too many as it was a chilly morning. I took on the hill with full vigor. I passed a young woman jogger on the path up. I know the kind of damage getting passed can do to one’s running ego, so I felt a little like a douche. But that’s the way it is in life, sometimes you just get passed. I made it to the top. A crowd of people were there. I swear many of them were watching me. Made me feel like I’d just crossed a finish-line. It looked like it too, as a woman had flown out about 30 mini kites all on the same string and they were flying along the hilltop. A small dog was doing circles around his owner and came to give me a sniff as I began some stretching. I looked up and there was the city. Littered with construction cranes,  just barely visible through the haze. This is Primrose Hill.

I leisurely ran back to MTH, had a shower, and made my way to Westminster Abbey for my third Evening Sung there. This one was probably the best, as I got my way into the choir loft and truly felt the presence of this boisterous choir. These fine male musicians were only the beginning of the amazing music coming my way that evening.

Months ago, I snagged tickets to see Wisconsin brewed musician Justine Vernon, also known as Bon Iver. From the first time my ear holes were filled with his sound, I was taken away by his soulful, falsetto tones. He was tickled pink as he filled the Apollo Victoria Theatre with his music. According to him, this has been the largest venue he’s played in Europe. This theatre just so happened to also be the home of Wicked, where that show plays every night of the week except Sunday. Hence why Justin had to play beneath a giant metal dragon.

I have a new found respect for his song Wolves. He had the audience sing along to the repetitive chorus-like “what might have been lost” lyric. Once we’d all sung through that plenty of times, he encouraged everyone to scream. Scream with all the anger, hate, love, frustration, whatever they had inside them. Utter release. I bet the Wicked cast never got that kind of response from an audience. 

Portobello Glass Blowing

12-6-2008

I really enjoy the people I travel with. Everyone has their own unique interests and it seems everyone from the UWSP group is getting something different out of their time in London. For instance, Deb has been getting to know the London glass blowers association quite well as she took it upon herself to pursue training with them. I am lucky enough to be friends with Deb, because this friendship led to her taking Kim and I on a tour of their studios today.

 

It was actually their annual open house this entire week, but had it not been for Deb, I’d never known that. But beside the typical open house stuff, Deb also took the time to explain some of the process to us and introduce us to a some members of the team, who just so happen to be some of the most talented glass blowers in the world.

 

Watching them work made me appreciate every wine glass I’ve every drank out of and every vase I’ve ever put flowers into. The skill, speed, and fluidity with which these guys have to work brings awe to anyone watching them work their craft.

Once we had finished watching multiple artists make an ornate bowl, a wine glass, and a pitcher we decided there was plenty of daylight left to take in Portobello Road. This market specializes in antiques from old school binoculars to books and doll houses. My favorite vendor had a wall of antique beer signs which if I had a place in London, I’d purchase way too many of those. They also had the usual t-shirt shops and vendors that you’d find in Camden. From one of these guys, I got the greatest t-shirt known to man. Perhaps you'll see me wearing it around. I could post a picture of it here, but that just wouldn't be as fun.

 

Plus we saw my favorite busker again, puncture kit, only this time he was joined by a...let's say less talented musician, but they still entertained the crowd. 

And like any market, this place had loads of good eating:

 

Once we’d shopped till we were about to drop, we walked back to a bus that’d take us home. But we also came upon a house that Deb and Kim were certain belonged to Elton John. No one was 100% but we’re going to say it was.

Pub Crawl

12-5-2008

Against my better judgment, I went with Kim, Mike, Shannon, and Luke on a pub-crawl this evening. In the past, I’ve been rather disappointed with the amount of fun and free alcohol that one get’s out of a pub-crawl for the monetary value one has to put in. This one wasn’t too bad though, two pubs and three clubs.

Started at Belusey’s, a pop culture on the walls, music videos on 10 screens kind of a pub. Then moved on to the Roadhouse club, where motorcycles and 76 gasoline signs were the selected memorabilia of this surprising classy place. They also had a Starship Troopers pinball machine that I just had to play. I did my part for the federation, keeping in mind that the only good bug is a dead bug.

From there we went to familiar territory right down the street from the Coliseum where we get drinks before and after ENO performances. From there we heard probably the best house DJ in London at Verve. The dance floor was packed as this guy mixed everything, even the theme from Magnum P.I. with Feddie Le Grand's “Put Your Hands up for Detroit.”

The night ended at Zoo Bar, familiar by name, but I had yet to visit it. Upstairs was a hop’n club playing more pop hits. The basement, on the other hand, housed the real ravers. The contrast was interesting. But before too long, I’d had enough so Shannon and I took our leave and walked home from Soho.

Karaoke and Freeze Tag

12-4-2008 

Once all the tasks at Life were complete, I grabbed a waffle from the little shop outside of Baker Street Station, ate it on my way to MTH, and grabbed a pint of Crunch Nut cereal to fuel me for one last Thursday night of karaoke madness at ISH bar. I ended my career of ISH karaoke the same way I began it, with a dulcet yet intense rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” In my opinion, it’s a karaoke staple.

Over the past few months, Mike, Shannon, and I got know a couple girls from Virginia, Kat and Allie, a bubbly duo who also frequent the ISH bar. We’ve gotten to know them pretty well as we cheered each other on through karaoke renditions that were good, bad, and ugly.

In time, Mike, Allie, Kat and I decided ISH bar was getting to be a bit of a bore, so we journeyed out to Mike’s club, a.k.a the roof. Before long, that too wasn’t satisfying our excitement so we popped up a window to the adjacent building, which was under construction, and played some wicked games of freeze tag. It was a drunkenly exhausting good time. 

King of the Jungle

12-3-2008

I remember seeing the movie when I was a young’n, singing the songs, loving the characters. Then 10 years ago I remember hearing how Elton John went back at it to turn this loveable movie into a musical. I tucked that under my hat knowing that I’d get around to seeing to someday. Well today was the day I finally saw the stage adaptation of The Lion King.

From the end of “Circle of Life”, the opening number, when the audience roared with ecstasy to the songs reprise to cap the show off, it’s no wonder it’s been running for 10 years.

For the most part, it was the movie, verbatim. Same lines, songs, familiar characters, everything the world has come to know and love about the Lion King. But there were also many differences, good and bad. A few of the added songs didn’t really do much for me, particularly the one the hyenas sing…distorted electric guitar in the Lion King?

Other differences were all for the better, mostly the differences that made it a stage show, such as puppetry-like costumes. Incredible. The costumes used in this show are worth the tickets price themselves. The way the extras move like the animals they are portraying is inspiring. The dance numbers are also an added bonus that the stage lent to this inspiring tale. And I wish I would have purchased a program so I could have figured out the name of the little girl playing Nala. She’ll make it far.