HOLIDAY ADVENTURES of a TRIPOD
Jane-Belinda Smart
Experience has taught me that 'Joe Public' seems to recognise a camcorder
on a tripod as being professional, therefore it must be valuable and
consequently you are filming for television. Bearing in mind the sad
state our society has become for criminal activity, I do not go alone
to film in certain areas because on numerous occasions I've been approached
by person's unknown who've then asked me "what are you filming?" I have
learnt to smile politely and reply "A crime prevention programme." Quickly
returning to the eyepiece, leaving them to work out whether or not I'm
joking. On the whole, they either laugh, one such person replying, "I
don't mind if the coppers see me so long as the wife doesn't!" or they
say nothing and quickly disappear.
However, this experience left me unprepared for the adventures I
was to have on holiday through being seen in connection with a camcorder
and tripod.
My parents wanted to take our caravan abroad for six weeks, making
their way to Switzerland staying in Germany and Luxembourg on-route,
would I like to do all the driving and so take the opportunity of
filming out there? Naturally I jumped.
I should have picked up the signs there was going to be trouble ahead
when I couldn't find a quote in my little book, that supposedly teaches
us tourists how to ask in German anything from "I would like a cup
of tea please" to, "I've something in my ear", but did it have anything
to explain; "I am not here to film for a terrestrial broadcasting
company"? No. So while I was filming in a quiet little town, the sudden
shouts and screams of delight brought the sound of life out onto the
streets from the cafes as, via their television's, the whistle was
blown to end one of the world cup football match's. No problem, I
thought, a bit of audio dubbing would sort that out. Then along came
a car, horn beeping and men shouting in triumph holding a huge flag
of the winning team from the passenger window. They noticed the camcorder
on tripod and gave the horn and shouting the 5th symphony treatment.
No worries, I'm thinking, I'll keep that 'in the can' and turn the
volume down. The birds managed to make themselves heard again and
just as I'd manually focused on a japonica (flower) the sound of a
car horn grew nearer, only this time it wasn't alone, this time it
was followed by half a dozen others, their occupants were leaning
half way out of car windows, holding onto flags that were flowing
with the momentum and bringing new meaning to overacting to the camera
and 'go break a leg'. They circled the Rathaus (town hall) and carried
on passed us once more for an unexpected encore. Before they all had
time to come back with the cabaret, we decided to 'exit stage left'
and make for the car, thumbing the little book's pages as we went
looking for "football ok, prefer tiddlywinks".
The second adventure in Germany led me to getting 'man handled' by
an old lady who was trying to throw me out of an even older looking
Church. This 'dear, sweet, little old lady' was convinced that
I was going to set up tripod and camcorder into working together to
film in this church she was so vigilantly guarding, though against
what, heaven only knows. Even after showing her the two were disconnected,
the lens cap was firmly on and that I was trying to locate my parents
on their tourist's walkabout, she then tried to alleviate me of my
equipment and deposit them on the floor - where we stood, in order
that I should come back for them later!
Well the thing is; I try not to be a pessimist, but to leave this
valuable equipment on a Church floor unattended? Now had more of the
visitors of this Church been kneeling, heads bowed with their hands
clasped together or singing in unison from the same page of the same
hymn book, but as it was they were walking around wearing 'kiss me
quick' T-shirts, and with a body language of what can only be described
as, 'casing the joint'. I exaggerate a little but basically your average
tourist.
I have to confess that all this happened in a short time, my temper
rose to equal hers, though interestingly enough our voices remained
a whisper and I finished up by informing her that this was in fact
'God's House' and not hers! I believe in my 'hurt bewilderment' of
being 'man handled' that I even had the courtesy of informing her
that God's son, Jesus, loves me too! Of course, any innocent bystander
listening to this palaver would have concluded the obvious flaw in
our heated discussion, that is to say that neither one of us could
speak each other's language!
Just when I thought I was safely out of the woods with this filming
lark and having learnt to keep camcorder well out of sight in rucksack
when visiting Church's, getting sympathetic looks instead by the tripod
being mistaken for some sort of 'state of art' zimmer frame, I get
myself into trouble again, only this time in a large, on the outskirts
of Calais, hypermarket.
Picture this; rucksack on back holding camcorder, tripod in shopping
trolley. Why? Because tripod is heavy to carry and if I leave it in
the estate car it will get 'nicked' so, if I take it with me, I get
accused of 'nicking' my own tripod instead!
Why anyone stealing a tripod would hide it in the shopping trolley,
take the whole lot to the check out till and then proceed to pay for
everything within the trolley apart from 'said' stolen tripod beats
me but according to the 'nice young girl' at the till, I wasn't just
dodgy, but prime suspect number one and so security was called to
the till in the shape of a tall guy built for a rugby team's fall
back wearing a very smart uniform.
Thankfully he speaks better English than I speak French and asks
me to follow him to the security desk along with trolley and 'exhibit
number one', the tripod. Well we must have looked a picture because
he led the way, glancing at me over his shoulder convinced perhaps
that I was about to hijack the trolley as a getaway vehicle, though
bent over the trolley handle, like without it I'd fall over, I followed
with a face that said "I hate shopping and I didn't want to come here
in the first place!"
Well it would seem, bearing in mind that that their main sale items
seemed to be that of food, wine and other 'booze', they also sold
the same make of tripod in the store and I should in fact have somehow
known this before entering so that I could have got a ticket from
the security desk to verify that I was entering and departing with
the same tripod! On interrogation I was asked, "Had I a receipt for
the tripod?" "Not with me, it was bought in England" (as was my shoes,
jeans and so forth, nothing of which I carried a receipt for. Though
I wasn't going to tell him that).
Disturbed and un-counselled by my last encounter with 'tripod prejudice'
I only thought afterwards of all the things I could have said like,
"do you sell this exact model and does it come with the exact same
mud on its feet and my post code written on it with special ink you
need a special light to see?" No chance, I apologised for my not knowing
the unknowable and very politely agreed to introduce him to the inside
of my rucksack; to my pen and pencil, English headed note paper, pink
comb, packet of wet wipes, the little plastic car I'd found on a pavement
that I meant to give to my nephew (forgot I'd still got it) and then
I realised that by showing him my actual camcorder with the base fixing
of the 'said' tripod still attached, it might convince him that the
two walked in together!
Well the case was 'thrown out' and the jury sent home as he shrugged
his shoulders and raised his hands, as only the French know how and
apologised for the mandatory security procedures, reminding me of
what I should do when I next visited. Turn around and go home!
Well, we managed to sail from Calais to Dover and through Customs
and passport control without any alarm bells ringing and if any lessons
are to be learnt by my adventures, it must be that without doubt you
get a very steady and professional shot when using your tripod even
if everything else around you seems to be going to pieces!
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