The past two weeks have been what I can only refer to now as “Drama Llamas”. I’m sure someone else out there has coined the phrase for their own devises, but for me, it signifies something that tends to spit in your eye when you least expect it, then true to form, demand carrots from you straight after. Apparently llamas spitting at humans is an indication of over-socialising with humans during their weaning stage. I suppose if we were to apply that logic to the past two weeks, this project has had too much attention to detail, and I should now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
Right?
As if. Whilst it isn’t enough that we’ve had to plan a production usually involving a team of 10 or more between 2 people, we’ve also had to organise and budget for the actual Rally itself. We’re really fortunate to be a part of the Dixie Chickens Bus Team. Quite frankly if we were taking our own vehicle for this pilot, there would be a lot more panicking going on, and a whole herd of Drama Llamas to contend with.
Interior of the bus (Photo: Dixie Chickens)
I’ve already had to change my departing flight from Dubai, having submitted my passport in later than I wanted to, I had to wait for my visas to come through. Mongolia and Kazakhstan came in relatively quickly, but the Russian visa took a little bit longer. The result is, my passport is delivered to my door the day I was supposed to have left for London. I learnt this for a fact this morning, after I had already changed my flight for a ‘mere’ £379. The overlapping weekend was something I had overlooked when I made my initial booking, though in fairness, I was expecting to have my passport back right about now, just before the weekend.
But then nothing goes according to plan. Anticipate the unexpected, and you will have accounted for the llama before it even knows it is of the drama variety.
Add in the last minute gear reshuffling and purchases to make up for “no money for the gear we needed” and that pretty much sums up the entire two weeks, if not the production itself. It’s things like this, the ol’ living-off-pasta-putting-every-single-penny-into-a-filming-project that just fueled my INTERNET RAEG when I saw the front page of Indiegogo slathered in high-profile film projects by the likes of James Franco, Shemar Moore, and that sequel for Iron Sky. Perhaps the latter wasn’t so bad, but whilst I am all for everyone using crowdfunding to bring fans into the production loop, it hardly warrants the ‘big wigs’ getting front page billing when there’s plenty of independent projects without the name fame who will probably actually deliver and not make up excuses when things decay and slowly die in the hands of a studio.
Don’t get me wrong, I like crowdfunding, but it’s not as easy as it looks to get it beyond the half-way point.
It’s also a learning process. We know we should have started our crowdfunding campaign months ago, and with our busy schedules also having to be balanced into the picture, we managed to push our Indiegogo campaign launch so far back that it is now showing for it. We love the support we’ve received from so many people across the world, through little messages, donations into the campaign, and genuine interest for what we’re doing. Some are amazed, jealous even; and others have expressed their own deep-seeded dreams to travel across borders – maybe not in a school bus – but the inkling is there, that wanderlust and desire to break out of the Cyborg Concrete Jungle.
Of course, this all adds to the little bit of pressure that I’ve managed to create for myself.
I’M SHOOTING A F*CKING PILOT THAT WILL BE THE VISUAL SALE OF OUR SERIES TO BROADCASTERS. IT HAS TO SELL THE RALLY AND THE PEOPLE AND LOOK AWESOME.
No pressure.
8 days before I am down in Folkestone meeting the rest of the team. 10 days before we leave Dover for Mongolia.
I should probably pack.
Armchair Adventurists do the Mongol Rally 