I am in Lisbon, Portugal. I have been working on a project here and have stayed on to be a tourist on the weekend. Damjan flew here on Friday night. We've had a great time eating seafood and custard tarts. We're flying back to London in a few hours. I will have some photos from our trip soon.
I really like the light in Cambridge and London, which are the places that I've lived in the UK. When the sun is out, we get a soft golden light. It's the same as the light we get on an early Melbourne morning, only we're getting at two or three o'clock in the afternoon in London/Cambridge.
The 'golden hours' are when sunlight comes in at low angles. In Melbourne, I could get this kind of light at 7 AM on a spring morning. By 9 AM, though, the Melbourne sun is bright and white, which makes shadows pretty hard. Here, though, the golden hours last much longer.
For a long time, I wondered if I was just imagining it. Maybe I was exaggerating the brightness and directness of Melbourne light in my mind. Maybe I've just been paying more attention to the light here.
However, someone has given me a plausible explanation for London/Cambridge's extended golden hours. I've been living at 52 degrees north. Melbourne is 38 degrees south. The difference in distance from the equator could mean that the elevation of the sun (the inclination?) is lower here in London/Cambridge than it is in Melbourne.
Do you think that's right? Would such a latitude difference be noticeable?
This is Sackler Crossing at Kew Gardens. The light was really, really gorgeous at about 4 PM.
Unfortunately, it seems my lens was dirty. I didn't notice the blemishes in this photo until now. I haven't cleaned my lens recently so it's probably still like that.
Here is the famous Canterbury Cathedral, centre of the Anglican world. (Doesn't it look a lot like the Dom in Cologne? All that Gothic architecture, I guess.)
The cloisters of Canterbury Cathedral, which look a lot like the cloisters I've come across in Oxford.
The herbarium of the cathedral.
The ruins of Canterbury Castle, formerly a vital line of defence against the French, then a storage depot for a gas company.
A nice tree in a nice Canterbury garden.
For my birthday, Damjan and I had a weekend away in Canterbury. I could have asked for the world.
It wouldn't have cost Damjan that much.
Instead, he bought me pigeon risotto with barley pearls.
And then there were the guys in asbestos suits playing big band numbers. They were really cool. One of them was a girl but it's hard to tell which one.
Here are some photos from my trip to Belgium and Germany last month.
A gate in the treasure room of the Belfry of Brugge.
The moon over a building in Brugge.
There are secret courtyards dotted throughout Berlin. Mo, our host in Berlin, took us to one that was the urban canvas of artists. We found this giant mechanical bat, which sprang to roaring and whistling life once we fed it a euro coin.
The Jewish Museum in Berlin. The museum space has no windows except for these slits through the metal walls.
The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin. The square columns of the memorial 'are designed to produce an uneasy, confusing atmosphere, and the whole sculpture aims to represent a supposedly ordered system that has lost touch with human reason'. Having walked amongst the looming columns while rain drizzled down, I can say that the architects and engineers managed to create the atmosphere they were aiming for.
The Neptune Fountain in Berlin.
Rooftop statues in Dresden.
In Leipzing, Damjan managed to get a water bell to resonate by running his hands back and forth on the handles. The water shimmied too.
This comes from the Marriage Carousel in Nuremburg, which represents 'marriage from the first stages of ardent love via exhausting struggles, and right through to the death bed'.
German cities are dotted with public bicycles, managed by Deutsch Bahn. You need to call a phone number in order to get a particular bike unlocked. I only ever saw one person riding a DB bike. I wonder if the bikes are used much?
The very impressive, very Gothic Dom in Cologne/Koln.
And here is on the inside, full of tourists who defy the rules in the hope that they can somehow light the awesome space with their puny flashes. I hate dumb tourists.
Whenever one comes back from extended leave, people always ask, 'How was your holiday?'
On my first day of work today, I answered this question (and variations of it) about eight times. It was a challenge to give a different yet meaningful reply every time.
Usually, I started with 'It was great' or 'Really good'.
Then I focused on one or two of the following.
'Germany was cold and it snowed most of the time. I wasn't prepared for it and didn't have any thermals. It was fine, though, once my legs got numb.'
'It was a real pleasure, travelling around on German trains. They're as punctual and reliable as everyone says they are.'
'I liked -- well, 'like' isn't the right word, probably 'was fascinated by' -- learning about World War II, the Nazis, the Berlin War, the Stasi, Jewish persecution... I feel a bit bad that I didn't know much at all about this history. I don't remember when the Berlin Wall fell. I wish I did. It would have been... very emotional, I think.'
'My favourite thing was being able to eat lots of fast food because it was a 'cultural experience'. I ate Belgian chocolate and waffles, potato fries, currywurst, brotwurst, kebabs and boreks.'
'They have really good bread in Germany. For kebabs, bread isn't just something to hold the food together. The bread itself was really tasty.'
'I liked visiting the castle at Nuremburg. I didn't get to visit the Disney castle in the Black Forest, though. I'll have to go back one day to see it.'
'There were many grand old buildings in Germany. But after a while, I found out that lots of these 'grand old buildings' are actually recreated to look like ones that were bombed in the war. It was Disneyland.'
'We stayed in hostels. I think that I'm getting to that stage, though, where I don't really want to do the hostel thing. We had some good ones, which I can recommend, but there were one or two that I didn't feel comfortable in. Cleanliness, it wasn't always there.'
'The trip was about history, architecture and food. After two weeks, it did become a bit of a blur -- "Oh, another old building, another chocolate shop." I'm looking forward to a holiday that's more about mountain views, clouds and moonrises.'
It was very cold for most of the two weeks we were in Germany. No one warned us that it could snow in March. March should be the start of spring and last year, there were record high temperatures. I guess the Germans were taken by surprise as much as we were!
Coming into the St Pancras Eurostar terminal yesterday, London felt balmy in comparison. It was sunny, almost warm, as I went about the neighbourhood today to restock my bare pantry cupboard.
Tomorrow, I'm back at work. Two weeks ago, I left team mates with three big reports to finish off. I hope there weren't any hitches!
I feel newly inspired to improve myself. I think that being on holiday gave me time to think about what I have achieved so far, and what I want to do next. I haven't made a formal resolutions list or wish list. I just have a vague notion of wanting to be 'better'. Perhaps I will start by slowing down so that I can think more before speaking or making a decision.
The train platform in Dresden.
Travelling from Leipzig to Nuremburg.
Someone who must be quite cold in Bonn.
Damjan and I are Aussie battlers, tough as nails. We eat ice-cream even when it's snowing. This photo shows me eating delicious mango and macadamia ice-cream from a European gourmet food chain called 'Australian Homemade'. Weird, eh?
We found ad boards like this dotted around Cologne, Belgium. Iceland must be a peaceful place indeed if people need to resort to such superlatives!
I'm in Berlin now. Mo and Ulli are hosting us. I met Mo in a delightfully random way at Cambridge and am reaping the rewards of my willingness to talk to strangers on a whim.
I will be travelling around Germany by train for the next two weeks. I will post photos and stories eventually. I already have one -- Damjan and I got on an overnight train in Brussels and nearly had to leave because I had bought tickets for the wrong date! I was horrified. It could have been a disaster. I'll let you know how it turned out in a future blog entry.
When mum and dad flew to Europe to visit me this year, they flew with Vietnam Airlines.
'I was worried,' mum said, 'because people told us that Vietnam Airlines always overbooks its flights. I kept thinking, "What if we get to the airport and there is no space for us?"'
Dad said, 'You didn't need to worry!'
'I know...' mum agreed.
'Because if there aren't any spaces, they have to put us in business class or first class! We kept hoping that it would happen. Upgrade! Upgrade! Upgrade!'
'But you didn't get one,' I said.
'No, we did!' mum and dad chimed.
'What? You didn't tell me!'
'We didn't know we were going to business class. They gave us the boarding pass and we went in the airplane and when we found our seats, it was before we went through the curtain, you know, the one between business class and economy. "Eh? We're in business class?"'
Mum waved her arms about. 'Oh, there was so much space. You could lie all the way down.'
'You know who gave us the upgrade?' Dad said to me. 'You were there!'
After four days in Paris, my parents and I split up at Charles de Gaulle airport. I flew back to London Stansted, and mum and dad went back to Melbourne via Hanoi.
'Oh! The short man. The dwarf!' I remembered the check-in person. Dad nodded. I cocked my head to the left, thinking. 'Maybe he was sneaky and happy that he could give you this surprise present... This reminds me of a few weeks ago. I went to a shop and asked the lady for five little cookies. When I opened the bag, there were six cookies!'
'Lucky! Maybe it was an accident,' mum suggested.
'No. I think it was a present,' dad decided.
I flew from UK to Australia via Hong Kong. As I said before, I was overcome by a terrible cold and spent much of that 12 hours hiding under a blanket. As we landed in Hong Kong, I made a plan to find a pharmacy as quickly as possible so I could buy cold and flu tablets.
'Drugs! Give me drugs!' I thought.
Three red-suited Hong Kong airport staff members welcomed passengers walking off the departure ramp, while another two staff members stood behind some equipment. As people walked by a video camera, I saw multi-coloured human shapes cross a TV monitor. It was a body temperature monitor, designed to detect people with fevers. Fever is one of the first signs of severe acute respiratory syndrome, or SARS. As I watched people go up to the camera, most of the body temperature maps were in cool blue, green and yellow colours.
With trepidation, I watched my own thermal image show up on the screen. There it was -- my head was definitely bright red. Surely someone would soon tackle me and take me to quarantine?
However, the two attendants were talking to each other, and barely glanced at the screen. I was safe.
Last weekend, Damjan and I went to Brighton, England's most famous seaside town. We had a great time. More than any city I've visited in the UK, Brighton feels like Melbourne -- full of young people, relaxed, and multicultural. We arrived in time for Brighton's food festival. So not only did we enjoy the tourist guide attractions of the beach, tacky seaside pier and King George IV's extravagant Royal Pavilion, but we also got to eat ate lots of the best kind of ethical (free range, organic, international and local) food.
Brighton's beaches are a poor substitute for Australian beaches. Instead of sand, there are pebbles. The good thing about pebbles are that they don't get into your shoes and clothes like sand does. They can be painful to walk on. The English Channel also makes for cold swims. I only waded in up to my legs.
Walking out of the street of our hostel, directly in front was the wreck of Brighton's West Pier.
A lady from the Brighton West Pier Trust told us that it was in perfect condition in 1975. Here it is intact, with its concert hall and pavilion on the walkway to the big bit at the end (whatever it is).
Its private owner wanted to turn the pier into a casino but the local council refused permission. Having no other plans for the pier, the owner offered it to the council for £1 but the council declined because it couldn't afford the upkeep. The pier was left to decay. The West Pier Trust was set up to raise money for its restoration. They finally managed to secure funding from the Government and private funding (£15mil each) but in 2003, there were two fires. The pier was already falling apart so fire was the final straw and the structure was completely gutted. Also gutted was the funding from the government (bye bye, £15mil). The Trust now says they're going to build a massive needle tower type thing in front of the pier that will somehow save the whole project. Erm. Right.
When we walked by the beach each morning, we saw this fellow with the metal detector. We once saw him stretching and flexing. He looked funny.
The Royal Pavilion was unlike any castle I had visited in England. King George IV was a party dude. He liked clothes, food, women, food, music and food. Over about 35 years, he turned his Brighton holiday farm house into this 'fantasy palace'. They tried to make it look Indian on the outside and Chinese on the inside. I giggled at some of the attempts at 'Chinoise' styling by people who had never been to China.
Damjan's favourite room in the palace was the huge kitchen. It had all the latest mod cons from the 1800s -- self-turning spits, steam tables to keep food warm, exhaust vents. We saw a menu for one of the daily feasts. It had 36 entrées and many more dishes.
We didn't know that the food festival was going on when we planned our trip. We had stepped out of the Royal Pavilion and suddenly saw tents in the garden. At the first tent, someone offered me a strawberry and banana smoothie. All I had to do was blend it by riding this bike. I was delighted that someone had also thought of harnessing the energy of stationery bikes. Imagine if we could have blenders on our normal bikes. We'd all have smoothies by the time we got to work.
At the food festival, there was a table full of sage plants. I never knew there was such a variety. Pineapple sage?
On the left are giant turnips. On the right are tiny pumpkins.
Like Melbourne, Brighton has laneways of shops, cafés and restaurants. We visited a nice art gallery, a very fun kitchenware store, a shop of well designed futons, outdoor adventure stores, ethnic grocery stores, and quite a few eateries and bakeries. The last three photos are from the Lego shop.
You can buy individual Lego pieces from these portholes. It reminded me of M&M land in Las Vegas, where you can buy every colour M&M in existence.
Even Lego figures like to play basketball and soccer.
Shiny transparent red and blue bricks.
While we were in the Lego store, Damjan and I thought, 'They should make movies out of Lego!' And then, what did we find on YouTube?
The Han Solo Affair
Indiana Jones (hehe, watch for the twist)
Amazing Lego dancing on Michael Jackson's 'Thriller'
And a rap music video, Circle Circle Dot Dot.
I do lots of fun things. Two weeks ago, I went to the Lake District (my second visit) to look around the town of Ambleside. The next batch of scholars are coming to Cambridge in September and will spend four days kayaking, hiking, and building giant newspaper towers at the Lake District.
Rachel, Tristan, Danielle and I hired a car and made the five hour trip north. We wandered the town, scoping out any pubs that could handle a hundred post-graduate students, visited the home of the 'best gingerbread in the world', put together a treasure hunt, and toured a countryside mansion. We spent the night at Ambleside YHA, which will be hosting the camp in September.
Here is the view ten metres from the front door of the YHA.
This weekend, I went stayed at a seaside town called Sheringham, about two hours north-east of Cambridge. I went with 34 fellow scholarship holders and their friends. We played kickball on the beach, had a hog roast feast (delicious, although perhaps not politically correct), and played Scrabble until one in the morning.
Beach houses, which people can buy to store their bathing gear, deck chairs, and surfboards. Such houses can be very expensive.
It was very, very foggy. You can't see it from this photo (I adjusted the contrast). It was funny to see someone pushing a stroller a foggy beach.
Sand anti-buckets.
The beach was very pebbly in places. Friends delighted in how smooth and beautifully patterened the rocks were. As I understand, the smoother the rock, the older it is because it has had time to erode away.
Lunch! They fed us roast pork and pork crackling (yum...), stuffing, roast potato and chicken, green salad, potato salad, mustard, apple sauce, and chives in Crème fraîche. Dessert was fruit salad, strawberry cheesecake and some sort of chocolate caramel cake.
There were a lot of big rocks. They had furrows on the surface, showing where they had been drilled out of a larger monolith. I think someone told me that the rocks were transported to Sheringham from Scotland. Maybe it was Wales.
For Cambridge students, I thought we were pretty bad at spelling and vocabulary, actually. Ian and Rebecca put down 'sinned', then 'atoned'. That's spiffy.
It says, 'Probably the Largest Cone in the World'.
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