Tuesday, January 31, 2006
A strange visitor
I've just had a very curious visitor.
It's very rare for me to have visitors here, and certainly not unexpected visitors. Occasionally my neighbour will pop over if there's some new bit of information I ought to know, but normally it's just me.
This evening the doorbell went and I looked through the spyhole to see someone I'd never seen before. It turned out to be a Polish art student trying to make some money by selling some of her work - which was very good. As I don't have much in the way of decoration I succumbed to a very nice large pencil sketch of two sailing ships for which I will get a frame tomorrow. I've always been a fan of buying direct from the artist, particularly art students as Liverpool has quite a lot of undiscovered but very good art students.
Another side effect of my quiet life here is that my neighbours can only tell if I'm away because the mail in the box piles up. It's one of the disadvantages of having sensitive hearing - the tv and radio are too quiet to be heard through walls. I was talking to my neighbour earlier this evening as well, and in future if I let him know I'll be away then he'll take in the mail for me. It also means that should anyone try to claim that they're coming to visit me through the intercom while I'm away then no-one will let them in. Good for security and all that, and another example of Icelandic community spirit.
Although I must admit that I've never thought security was a problem here. OK, so it's nowhere near as bad as the UK, but I can see that I'm going to be paranoid for the next couple of weeks.
0 comments
It's very rare for me to have visitors here, and certainly not unexpected visitors. Occasionally my neighbour will pop over if there's some new bit of information I ought to know, but normally it's just me.
This evening the doorbell went and I looked through the spyhole to see someone I'd never seen before. It turned out to be a Polish art student trying to make some money by selling some of her work - which was very good. As I don't have much in the way of decoration I succumbed to a very nice large pencil sketch of two sailing ships for which I will get a frame tomorrow. I've always been a fan of buying direct from the artist, particularly art students as Liverpool has quite a lot of undiscovered but very good art students.
Another side effect of my quiet life here is that my neighbours can only tell if I'm away because the mail in the box piles up. It's one of the disadvantages of having sensitive hearing - the tv and radio are too quiet to be heard through walls. I was talking to my neighbour earlier this evening as well, and in future if I let him know I'll be away then he'll take in the mail for me. It also means that should anyone try to claim that they're coming to visit me through the intercom while I'm away then no-one will let them in. Good for security and all that, and another example of Icelandic community spirit.
Although I must admit that I've never thought security was a problem here. OK, so it's nowhere near as bad as the UK, but I can see that I'm going to be paranoid for the next couple of weeks.
0 comments
Monday, January 30, 2006
CdG is not as good flying out
Duty-free at CdG is a bit disappointing.
Here I was expecting some interesting shops, maybe even somewhere I could buy a Nabaztag (given that it's a French design) to cheer me up. Blame CNN for introducing me to the concept. Instead there was a rather minimal alcohol and tobacco place that didn't have anywhere near the range of Stanstead. Oh well, the skies were clear over northern France and it was possible to see traces of WWI earthworks in the landscape. Very interesting, if a bit spooky.
It's also interesting that in the ten days I've been away the days have got visibly longer. It was definitely still daylight at 17:30, which it wasn't when I went away. It's also a lot warmer than it has been in France. There's snow on the mountains but it's all clear down at sea level. That's a good thing, as it makes it easier to travel about when Andrew comes to visit at the end of the week. Assuming we don't have a massive snowstorm before then, that is. :)
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Here I was expecting some interesting shops, maybe even somewhere I could buy a Nabaztag (given that it's a French design) to cheer me up. Blame CNN for introducing me to the concept. Instead there was a rather minimal alcohol and tobacco place that didn't have anywhere near the range of Stanstead. Oh well, the skies were clear over northern France and it was possible to see traces of WWI earthworks in the landscape. Very interesting, if a bit spooky.
It's also interesting that in the ten days I've been away the days have got visibly longer. It was definitely still daylight at 17:30, which it wasn't when I went away. It's also a lot warmer than it has been in France. There's snow on the mountains but it's all clear down at sea level. That's a good thing, as it makes it easier to travel about when Andrew comes to visit at the end of the week. Assuming we don't have a massive snowstorm before then, that is. :)
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Sunday, January 29, 2006
Learning a little
Today I visited the chateau du Compiègne.
Accoding to the little book I bought there, the first mention of a castle at Compiègne is 29th November 562 when Clothair, son on Clovis I died there. In the 9th century Charles the Bald, grandson of Charlemagne, built a castle at Compiègne on the banks of the Oise. Nothing happens then until 1237, when St. Louis holds court there on occasion of the wedding of his brother Robert. In 1347 Charles V ordered a new castle to be built on the site of the current palace. Although the chateau was then regularly updated by assorted kings including Louis XIII-XVI inclusive, and Marie Antoinette was quite fond of the place, it is most strongly associated with the Emperors Napoleon.
This is where I started learning things. You see, being English, my view of Napoleon is a little biased. He was a jumped-up artilleryman whose backside we kicked at Waterloo, right? I knew that there was a Napoleon II but I had no idea that there were Napoleons III and IV, nor that the French had an Empress as late as 1910. The chateaux has been lovingly restored to its state during the Second Empire period which is, to my eye, far more aesthetically pleasing than the extravagance of the palace at Versailles.
It was very strange on the guided tour (in French but I could follow enough of it to understand the basics) as I was very conscious that this was the home of Napoleon Bonaparte and I was English. Capital E. Certain rooms - the emperor's bedchamber and his library in particular - had an extremely intense feeling about them. It was extremely easy to imagine the rooms filled with uniformed men and gowned women (too much Sharpe again, although the fact that I'm currently re-reading the Vorkosigan novels doesn't help). The furniture and decorations are all original, some of them restored, and some of the embroidery is very impressive. The Gobelin tapestries are also original, and I was surprised but delighted to discover the original Chasses du Royales tapestries as Mum has a section from one of them as a large needlepoint in the hall at home (I can point out the stitches I did on it).
The thing that struck me most, though, was extremely sad in a geeky sort of way. The building has an original central heating system. In each of the rooms is a circular grille about eight inches across with an iron plate that swings to open or close the grille, and these are all connected to a vent system through which warm air is circulated through the chateau. It's very clever and impressed me far more than the decor, to be honest.
Although I do like this idea of sticking a big gold N on things just to show that they're mine... :)
0 comments
Accoding to the little book I bought there, the first mention of a castle at Compiègne is 29th November 562 when Clothair, son on Clovis I died there. In the 9th century Charles the Bald, grandson of Charlemagne, built a castle at Compiègne on the banks of the Oise. Nothing happens then until 1237, when St. Louis holds court there on occasion of the wedding of his brother Robert. In 1347 Charles V ordered a new castle to be built on the site of the current palace. Although the chateau was then regularly updated by assorted kings including Louis XIII-XVI inclusive, and Marie Antoinette was quite fond of the place, it is most strongly associated with the Emperors Napoleon.
This is where I started learning things. You see, being English, my view of Napoleon is a little biased. He was a jumped-up artilleryman whose backside we kicked at Waterloo, right? I knew that there was a Napoleon II but I had no idea that there were Napoleons III and IV, nor that the French had an Empress as late as 1910. The chateaux has been lovingly restored to its state during the Second Empire period which is, to my eye, far more aesthetically pleasing than the extravagance of the palace at Versailles.
It was very strange on the guided tour (in French but I could follow enough of it to understand the basics) as I was very conscious that this was the home of Napoleon Bonaparte and I was English. Capital E. Certain rooms - the emperor's bedchamber and his library in particular - had an extremely intense feeling about them. It was extremely easy to imagine the rooms filled with uniformed men and gowned women (too much Sharpe again, although the fact that I'm currently re-reading the Vorkosigan novels doesn't help). The furniture and decorations are all original, some of them restored, and some of the embroidery is very impressive. The Gobelin tapestries are also original, and I was surprised but delighted to discover the original Chasses du Royales tapestries as Mum has a section from one of them as a large needlepoint in the hall at home (I can point out the stitches I did on it).
The thing that struck me most, though, was extremely sad in a geeky sort of way. The building has an original central heating system. In each of the rooms is a circular grille about eight inches across with an iron plate that swings to open or close the grille, and these are all connected to a vent system through which warm air is circulated through the chateau. It's very clever and impressed me far more than the decor, to be honest.
Although I do like this idea of sticking a big gold N on things just to show that they're mine... :)
0 comments
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Twenty years later
On January 28th 1986 the space shuttle Challenger was lost on take-off.
I'd come back from lectures in the afternoon and at about 16:00 my friend Richard knocked at my door to tell me that the shuttle had blown up. I didn't believe him at first, but at the time I had a small black-and-white television in my room so I turned it on to find rolling news coverage. Over the next hour or so my room gradually filled with people and we just sat there watching the coverage.
This morning I finished preparing a data visualisation coursework for my third-year students. Their task is to write a short report based upon the original O-ring data used in the discussions between engineers and managers during the discussions over whether it was safe to launch the shuttle in such low temperatures. The data, as originally presented, doesn't make the danger at all obvious; a little rearrangement makes it frighteningly so.
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I'd come back from lectures in the afternoon and at about 16:00 my friend Richard knocked at my door to tell me that the shuttle had blown up. I didn't believe him at first, but at the time I had a small black-and-white television in my room so I turned it on to find rolling news coverage. Over the next hour or so my room gradually filled with people and we just sat there watching the coverage.
This morning I finished preparing a data visualisation coursework for my third-year students. Their task is to write a short report based upon the original O-ring data used in the discussions between engineers and managers during the discussions over whether it was safe to launch the shuttle in such low temperatures. The data, as originally presented, doesn't make the danger at all obvious; a little rearrangement makes it frighteningly so.
0 comments
Friday, January 27, 2006
I gave my lecture today
It went okay but clearly wasn't philosophical enough for some of the staff. The students seemed happy enough though.
Given that it was almost the last presentation I'm not expecting many people to write essays on it, which means that tomorrow I'll just sit around the building reading or writing other lectures again. Oh well.
I had an interesting discussion with a Spanish philosopher this morning who was interested in strange martial arts philosophies but had no idea that Spain had one of its own and that he didn't have to go looking further east. So much for that as a source of potentially useful material.
Now, though, I must go to sleep before my head explodes. Or the various things in the hotel room and their interesting visual fringes do the same.
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Given that it was almost the last presentation I'm not expecting many people to write essays on it, which means that tomorrow I'll just sit around the building reading or writing other lectures again. Oh well.
I had an interesting discussion with a Spanish philosopher this morning who was interested in strange martial arts philosophies but had no idea that Spain had one of its own and that he didn't have to go looking further east. So much for that as a source of potentially useful material.
Now, though, I must go to sleep before my head explodes. Or the various things in the hotel room and their interesting visual fringes do the same.
0 comments
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Fun with philosophy
I think I've been spending too much time reading hard science instead of philosophy.
Instead of knowing how a closed loop life support system works I should have been considering if it can possibly be considered closed without taking into consideration all of its possible interactions with the rest of the universe. Bah. I've taken to sitting quietly and thinking of other things.
I give my presentation tomorrow. It's clearly going to be too practical for somepeople here. Ah well... I am doing practical applications of cognitive science after all.
0 comments
Instead of knowing how a closed loop life support system works I should have been considering if it can possibly be considered closed without taking into consideration all of its possible interactions with the rest of the universe. Bah. I've taken to sitting quietly and thinking of other things.
I give my presentation tomorrow. It's clearly going to be too practical for somepeople here. Ah well... I am doing practical applications of cognitive science after all.
0 comments
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Dinner was not entirely crepe
No, some of it was galette.
It would be fundamentally wrong if I were to visit France and not have dinner in a creperie at least once. Apart from the fact that it's an escape from serious cuisine in serious resteraunts, the range of dishes is also much wider than in the more upmarket eateries. So tonight it was a galette (a savoury crepe) with ham, cheese and egg followed by a crepe with stewed apple and apple ice cream covered in calvados. There's something a little strange about watching blue flames surrounding ice cream. This was all accompanied by a lightly-alcoholic Normandy cider which tasted of real apples.
I'm discovering a similar problem speaking French to speaking Icelandic. My accent is too good. My French colleagues here are now determined to get me speaking French more fluently as I've got the difficult bit done already. I blame Jean-Loup myself, as having relatively recent and almost regular contact with a real French accent must have had some effect. :) It looks as if I'm going to be much more involved with these folks in future so I might well start picking up the necessary vocabulary, which would be useful.
I took the bus back to the hotel today, which went past the local chateau. As we drove past the courtyard I had this strange desire for the feel of a rapier in my hand. Clearly I've watched too many of the wrong sort of movies.
0 comments
It would be fundamentally wrong if I were to visit France and not have dinner in a creperie at least once. Apart from the fact that it's an escape from serious cuisine in serious resteraunts, the range of dishes is also much wider than in the more upmarket eateries. So tonight it was a galette (a savoury crepe) with ham, cheese and egg followed by a crepe with stewed apple and apple ice cream covered in calvados. There's something a little strange about watching blue flames surrounding ice cream. This was all accompanied by a lightly-alcoholic Normandy cider which tasted of real apples.
I'm discovering a similar problem speaking French to speaking Icelandic. My accent is too good. My French colleagues here are now determined to get me speaking French more fluently as I've got the difficult bit done already. I blame Jean-Loup myself, as having relatively recent and almost regular contact with a real French accent must have had some effect. :) It looks as if I'm going to be much more involved with these folks in future so I might well start picking up the necessary vocabulary, which would be useful.
I took the bus back to the hotel today, which went past the local chateau. As we drove past the courtyard I had this strange desire for the feel of a rapier in my hand. Clearly I've watched too many of the wrong sort of movies.
0 comments
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
What's for breakfast?
Plastique.
That's a Terminator reference, for those of you who didn't read Classics at the University of St. Andrews Science Fiction and Fantasy Society. I don't remember anyone saying "Plastique?" to me outside of an RPG before, but when I went to the patissiere this morning for emergency supplies (in case lunch today was as minimal as lunch yesterday... which it was but in a different manner) madame behind the counter offered me a plastic bag for my pain au raisin and bottle of water. Another new French word to add to my ever-increasing vocabulary.
Today we had more presentations, one of which (a dangerously scientific one rather than a safely philosophical ones) were quite interesting (although Mike's philosophy one had some very interesting ramifications for AI). The rest were rather more phenomenological than I'm really comfortable with.
0 comments
That's a Terminator reference, for those of you who didn't read Classics at the University of St. Andrews Science Fiction and Fantasy Society. I don't remember anyone saying "Plastique?" to me outside of an RPG before, but when I went to the patissiere this morning for emergency supplies (in case lunch today was as minimal as lunch yesterday... which it was but in a different manner) madame behind the counter offered me a plastic bag for my pain au raisin and bottle of water. Another new French word to add to my ever-increasing vocabulary.
Today we had more presentations, one of which (a dangerously scientific one rather than a safely philosophical ones) were quite interesting (although Mike's philosophy one had some very interesting ramifications for AI). The rest were rather more phenomenological than I'm really comfortable with.
0 comments
Monday, January 23, 2006
Air! I must have air!
There is a downside to France.
The food and drink may be better and much, much cheaper in France than in Iceland, but both countries share one big problem. They both still allow smoking in resteraunts. Much as I dislike it, I can handle it if there aren't too many smokers, but at lunch today the air was so thick that I just had to leave the brasserie in order to be able to breathe. In the hotel the bedspread and even the pillows smell of stale smoke, which is quite unpleasant.
Still, at least the walk around town after lunch has blown away much of the stink on my throw and cardiagan. This afternoon I paid a visit to the Musée Antoine Vivenel, a small local museum based on the collection of a local 19th century gentleman. Probably the most interesting items were a collection of Gaulish weapons from the pre-Roman and Roman period, complete with illustrations that were 'realistic Asterix'. Too much watching Time Team was definitely responsible for my reaction on turning a corner and coming face to face with a large display of red Roman pottery - Ooh! Samian ware! I realised I've clearly watched too much Sharpe as well, as when looking at various representations of imperial eagles I was sure that something was missing... the chains that were added in the badge of the 95th after Sharpe's Eagle. *Sigh*
On the way back I wandered past the old tower that dates back to the Joan of Arc period. I now know the significance of May 23rd 1430 - it was the day she liberated Compiegne. That's one mystery cleared up.
0 comments
The food and drink may be better and much, much cheaper in France than in Iceland, but both countries share one big problem. They both still allow smoking in resteraunts. Much as I dislike it, I can handle it if there aren't too many smokers, but at lunch today the air was so thick that I just had to leave the brasserie in order to be able to breathe. In the hotel the bedspread and even the pillows smell of stale smoke, which is quite unpleasant.
Still, at least the walk around town after lunch has blown away much of the stink on my throw and cardiagan. This afternoon I paid a visit to the Musée Antoine Vivenel, a small local museum based on the collection of a local 19th century gentleman. Probably the most interesting items were a collection of Gaulish weapons from the pre-Roman and Roman period, complete with illustrations that were 'realistic Asterix'. Too much watching Time Team was definitely responsible for my reaction on turning a corner and coming face to face with a large display of red Roman pottery - Ooh! Samian ware! I realised I've clearly watched too much Sharpe as well, as when looking at various representations of imperial eagles I was sure that something was missing... the chains that were added in the badge of the 95th after Sharpe's Eagle. *Sigh*
On the way back I wandered past the old tower that dates back to the Joan of Arc period. I now know the significance of May 23rd 1430 - it was the day she liberated Compiegne. That's one mystery cleared up.
0 comments
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Sleep, o sleep, come hither...
Tonight I hope to sleep, unlike last night.
At 03h00 this morning I was assembling Pirates du Nouveu Monde ships in the hope that it would relax me enough to sleep. It wasn't as if I'd had any coffee for twelve hours either, which was rather frustrating. There's only so long you can watch CNN.
Today was Day One Proper of the seminar, with four presentations, two of which were very good, one was a bit rushed but potentially interesting even in French, and the other was rather less inspiring existential philosophy also in French. I was particularly impressed with the one on how people can tell the difference between the same phoneme when a word is said quickly or slowly. How can you distinguish between a short vowel sound spoken slowly and a long vowel sound spoken rapidly? It turns out that it's all in the relative length not the absolute length and made for a very interesting talk.
Dinner tonight was at the Bistro de Flandres again although not as good as Friday. This time it was a giant seafood vol-au-vent followed by veal chunks in mushroom sauce on a bed of rice. They were OK but nothing too spectacular so I had profiteroles for desert again to make up for it. My excuse is that lunch was a small bread roll. Hmm... I must remember to go to the patiserie before I leave tomorrow so that I' prepared come lunchtime. Orangina and pain au raisins, I think.
0 comments
At 03h00 this morning I was assembling Pirates du Nouveu Monde ships in the hope that it would relax me enough to sleep. It wasn't as if I'd had any coffee for twelve hours either, which was rather frustrating. There's only so long you can watch CNN.
Today was Day One Proper of the seminar, with four presentations, two of which were very good, one was a bit rushed but potentially interesting even in French, and the other was rather less inspiring existential philosophy also in French. I was particularly impressed with the one on how people can tell the difference between the same phoneme when a word is said quickly or slowly. How can you distinguish between a short vowel sound spoken slowly and a long vowel sound spoken rapidly? It turns out that it's all in the relative length not the absolute length and made for a very interesting talk.
Dinner tonight was at the Bistro de Flandres again although not as good as Friday. This time it was a giant seafood vol-au-vent followed by veal chunks in mushroom sauce on a bed of rice. They were OK but nothing too spectacular so I had profiteroles for desert again to make up for it. My excuse is that lunch was a small bread roll. Hmm... I must remember to go to the patiserie before I leave tomorrow so that I' prepared come lunchtime. Orangina and pain au raisins, I think.
0 comments
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Compiègne in daylight
Yes, I could live here, I think.
I wasn't due to so anything official until lunchtime so I wandered across the river Oise into the main body of the town to have a look around. Compiegne is a delightful little town with a market on Saturday mornings. I was very restrained and didn't buy anything, but it was definitely food for the soul to see not only clothing and jewellry stalls but also the fresh produce - meat and vegetables, bread and cheeses.
Naturally I went in search of an embroidery shop (it's just what I do in a new city) but was unsuccessful. I did, however, locate the New Age shop (I may be forced to return there for the clamshell-guard rapier letter opener), the archery shop and the games shop. I refrained from a new set of arrows for customs and importing reasons, and I really wasn't expecting a games shop and so my ability to shop in French completely eluded me at that point. Shopping for day-to-day provisions is one thing but serious games shopping in a different matter. I came out with several Pirates du Nouveau Monde packs and may go back for some pretty dice and a new game of some sort.
I didn't do any of the historic stuff today - that's down for tomorrow - but so far I've worked out that Joan of Arc did something here (she has a tower named after her) and Napoleon III rennovated a chateau here as a holiday home. Dinner this evening was a much quieter affair than yesterday, at an Italian resteraunt facing out onto a square containing a large equestrian statue of the aforementioned inspirational lady fighter/sainted liberator of an oppressed nation/delusional upstart peasant girl (your choice). It was a little odd sitting in an Italian resteraunt in Flanders reading Sun Tzu, but the meal was enjoyable, if basic (penne alla bolognese accompanied by a pleasant valpolicella, followed by a small banana split).
0 comments
I wasn't due to so anything official until lunchtime so I wandered across the river Oise into the main body of the town to have a look around. Compiegne is a delightful little town with a market on Saturday mornings. I was very restrained and didn't buy anything, but it was definitely food for the soul to see not only clothing and jewellry stalls but also the fresh produce - meat and vegetables, bread and cheeses.
Naturally I went in search of an embroidery shop (it's just what I do in a new city) but was unsuccessful. I did, however, locate the New Age shop (I may be forced to return there for the clamshell-guard rapier letter opener), the archery shop and the games shop. I refrained from a new set of arrows for customs and importing reasons, and I really wasn't expecting a games shop and so my ability to shop in French completely eluded me at that point. Shopping for day-to-day provisions is one thing but serious games shopping in a different matter. I came out with several Pirates du Nouveau Monde packs and may go back for some pretty dice and a new game of some sort.
I didn't do any of the historic stuff today - that's down for tomorrow - but so far I've worked out that Joan of Arc did something here (she has a tower named after her) and Napoleon III rennovated a chateau here as a holiday home. Dinner this evening was a much quieter affair than yesterday, at an Italian resteraunt facing out onto a square containing a large equestrian statue of the aforementioned inspirational lady fighter/sainted liberator of an oppressed nation/delusional upstart peasant girl (your choice). It was a little odd sitting in an Italian resteraunt in Flanders reading Sun Tzu, but the meal was enjoyable, if basic (penne alla bolognese accompanied by a pleasant valpolicella, followed by a small banana split).
0 comments
Friday, January 20, 2006
Fish in red wine sauce?
I did indeed further exercise my French language skills at dinner this evening.
Next door to the hotel (which faces out over the river so that from my balcony I look out straight onto the river) is a small but very good resteraunt, the Resteraunt de Flandres. It was recommended in the email I got from the workshop organisers with my hotel details so I decided to treat myself to a civilised French meal to celebrate my arrival. So I did - in French.
I started off with strips of smoked salmon and thin slices of parmesan on a bed of tagliatelle, then ordered medallions of something I didn't recognise in a butter bourgingnon sauce. Now I was expecting beef or pork so when the waiter arrived with fish cutlery I was rather surprised. I would never have thought of serving fish in a red wine sauce. White wine, yes, but definitely not red. It turned out to be white fish steaks on a potato rosti and this beautiful sauce. Very tasty indeed. After this I decided that I'd go the whole hog and have profitteroles for desert, which turned out to be filled with real vanilla ice cream (golden yellow with seeds) rather than cream and drenched in a fantastic bitter chocolate sauce and then coffee to finish.
To accompany the meal I had a half bottle of Georges DuBoeuf beaujolais villages 2004. I'm very fond of beaujolais but I'll take a village over a nouveau any day. I savoured it, drinking mainly water with the meal and enjoying the wine in the gaps between courses.
Again, I survived in French, including a conversation about the fact that my VISA card has my photo on it with Madame when I paid the bill. Seemingly these photos are not common. When I got back to the hotel I found a message waiting that my colleagues (whom I haven't met yet) were going to the pizzaria at 19:30 if I wanted to join them. As I got the message at 22:00 I think I'll just have to apologise tomorrow morning and spend the rest of the evening gently digesting.
0 comments
Next door to the hotel (which faces out over the river so that from my balcony I look out straight onto the river) is a small but very good resteraunt, the Resteraunt de Flandres. It was recommended in the email I got from the workshop organisers with my hotel details so I decided to treat myself to a civilised French meal to celebrate my arrival. So I did - in French.
I started off with strips of smoked salmon and thin slices of parmesan on a bed of tagliatelle, then ordered medallions of something I didn't recognise in a butter bourgingnon sauce. Now I was expecting beef or pork so when the waiter arrived with fish cutlery I was rather surprised. I would never have thought of serving fish in a red wine sauce. White wine, yes, but definitely not red. It turned out to be white fish steaks on a potato rosti and this beautiful sauce. Very tasty indeed. After this I decided that I'd go the whole hog and have profitteroles for desert, which turned out to be filled with real vanilla ice cream (golden yellow with seeds) rather than cream and drenched in a fantastic bitter chocolate sauce and then coffee to finish.
To accompany the meal I had a half bottle of Georges DuBoeuf beaujolais villages 2004. I'm very fond of beaujolais but I'll take a village over a nouveau any day. I savoured it, drinking mainly water with the meal and enjoying the wine in the gaps between courses.
Again, I survived in French, including a conversation about the fact that my VISA card has my photo on it with Madame when I paid the bill. Seemingly these photos are not common. When I got back to the hotel I found a message waiting that my colleagues (whom I haven't met yet) were going to the pizzaria at 19:30 if I wanted to join them. As I got the message at 22:00 I think I'll just have to apologise tomorrow morning and spend the rest of the evening gently digesting.
0 comments
Fish in red wine sauce?
I did indeed further exercise my French language skills at dinner this evening.
Next door to the hotel (which faces out over the river so that from my balcony I look out straight onto the river) is a small but very good resteraunt, the Resteraunt de Flandres. It was recommended in the email I got from the workshop organisers with my hotel details so I decided to treat myself to a civilised French meal to celebrate my arrival. So I did - in French.
I started off with strips of smoked salmon and thin slices of parmesan on a bed of tagliatelle, then ordered medallions of something I didn't recognise in a butter bourgingnon sauce. Now I was expecting beef or pork so when the waiter arrived with fish cutlery I was rather surprised. I would never have thought of serving fish in a red wine sauce. White wine, yes, but definitely not red. It turned out to be white fish steaks on a potato rosti and this beautiful sauce. Very tasty indeed. After this I decided that I'd go the whole hog and have profitteroles for desert, which turned out to be filled with real vanilla ice cream (golden yellow with seeds) rather than cream and drenched in a fantastic bitter chocolate sauce and then coffee to finish.
To accompany the meal I had a half bottle of Georges DuBoeuf beaujolais villages 2004. I'm very fond of beaujolais but I'll take a village over a nouveau any day. I savoured it, drinking mainly water with the meal and enjoying the wine in the gaps between courses.
Again, I survived in French, including a conversation about the fact that my VISA card has my photo on it with Madame when I paid the bill. Seemingly these photos are not common. When I got back to the hotel I found a message waiting that my colleagues (whom I haven't met yet) were going to the pizzaria at 19:30 if I wanted to join them. As I got the message at 22:00 I think I'll just have to apologise tomorrow morning and spend the rest of the evening gently digesting.
0 comments
Next door to the hotel (which faces out over the river so that from my balcony I look out straight onto the river) is a small but very good resteraunt, the Resteraunt de Flandres. It was recommended in the email I got from the workshop organisers with my hotel details so I decided to treat myself to a civilised French meal to celebrate my arrival. So I did - in French.
I started off with strips of smoked salmon and thin slices of parmesan on a bed of tagliatelle, then ordered medallions of something I didn't recognise in a butter bourgingnon sauce. Now I was expecting beef or pork so when the waiter arrived with fish cutlery I was rather surprised. I would never have thought of serving fish in a red wine sauce. White wine, yes, but definitely not red. It turned out to be white fish steaks on a potato rosti and this beautiful sauce. Very tasty indeed. After this I decided that I'd go the whole hog and have profitteroles for desert, which turned out to be filled with real vanilla ice cream (golden yellow with seeds) rather than cream and drenched in a fantastic bitter chocolate sauce and then coffee to finish.
To accompany the meal I had a half bottle of Georges DuBoeuf beaujolais villages 2004. I'm very fond of beaujolais but I'll take a village over a nouveau any day. I savoured it, drinking mainly water with the meal and enjoying the wine in the gaps between courses.
Again, I survived in French, including a conversation about the fact that my VISA card has my photo on it with Madame when I paid the bill. Seemingly these photos are not common. When I got back to the hotel I found a message waiting that my colleagues (whom I haven't met yet) were going to the pizzaria at 19:30 if I wanted to join them. As I got the message at 22:00 I think I'll just have to apologise tomorrow morning and spend the rest of the evening gently digesting.
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In praise of Charles de Gaulle
The airport, not the man.
Today was my first time travelling through Paris Charles de Gaulle. It's a very impressive and well-designed airport, far more than Heathrow or Stansted in my opinion. It wasn't just the architecture that impressed me - although the central 'well' of the main terminal really is crying out to be the headquarters of a Bond villain - but also the way that the various sectors are placed relative to each other. There's a central hub from which radiate many 'satellites' so that you don't have to walk three miles to your gate if you happen to be travelling from the gate at the far end of the wing. Baggage reclaim is also far more organised than any other airport I know. Instead of having a cavernous hall with a belt in each quadrant, the belts are arranged in segments of a circle and take up far less space than the big square things at Stansted by looping in a 'u' shape.
There was a bit of a wait for the luggage, but I can forgive than given the volume of traffic that the airport handles and they did give an estimated time of luggage arrival on the display. Trolleys were plentiful and even travelled in straight lines. Another thing I noticed was that I didn't have to go through passport control at all. In Keflav;iacute;k it's only flights to the UK and US that have to go through passport control (I wonder if that's at the behest of the British government or whether the Icelanders are still being petty because of NASKEF and the Cod Wars?).
I got the train into Paris, and on the way realised that living in Iceland has completely changed my view of France. Previous times that I've been here I've been struck how different it was to England. This time I found myself thinking how similar it was in many ways. Yes, some bits look like some of the less appealing industrial cityscapes of England before urban regeneration became popular, but it's still a very familiar landscape.
One thing did discomfort me at Paris Gare du Nord, and that was the beggars. Both women, and both just going from passenger to passenger asking for money. That's not something I'm used to in the UK. The station itself though is comfortably like Lime Street in a way, as the architecture is very similar to how Lime Street used to look with the wide open glass roof held up by a multitude of wrought-iron pillars, high yellow-brick walls with semicircular windows set in their uppermost levels.
Paris itself brought back some equivocal memories. Last time I was here I was on holiday with a friend with whom I had what had already become a very destructive (to me, rather than to her) relationship. It's clearly going to take a number of further visits to the city to overlay these memories with some better ones. In fact I'd be quite happy to come back; my survival French is performing well so far and people seem quite happy to make the effort to slow down their speech and use simple words and the occasional gesture because I'm making the effort to speak French. Later this evening I shall go and test it further by going out to dinner.
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Today was my first time travelling through Paris Charles de Gaulle. It's a very impressive and well-designed airport, far more than Heathrow or Stansted in my opinion. It wasn't just the architecture that impressed me - although the central 'well' of the main terminal really is crying out to be the headquarters of a Bond villain - but also the way that the various sectors are placed relative to each other. There's a central hub from which radiate many 'satellites' so that you don't have to walk three miles to your gate if you happen to be travelling from the gate at the far end of the wing. Baggage reclaim is also far more organised than any other airport I know. Instead of having a cavernous hall with a belt in each quadrant, the belts are arranged in segments of a circle and take up far less space than the big square things at Stansted by looping in a 'u' shape.
There was a bit of a wait for the luggage, but I can forgive than given the volume of traffic that the airport handles and they did give an estimated time of luggage arrival on the display. Trolleys were plentiful and even travelled in straight lines. Another thing I noticed was that I didn't have to go through passport control at all. In Keflav;iacute;k it's only flights to the UK and US that have to go through passport control (I wonder if that's at the behest of the British government or whether the Icelanders are still being petty because of NASKEF and the Cod Wars?).
I got the train into Paris, and on the way realised that living in Iceland has completely changed my view of France. Previous times that I've been here I've been struck how different it was to England. This time I found myself thinking how similar it was in many ways. Yes, some bits look like some of the less appealing industrial cityscapes of England before urban regeneration became popular, but it's still a very familiar landscape.
One thing did discomfort me at Paris Gare du Nord, and that was the beggars. Both women, and both just going from passenger to passenger asking for money. That's not something I'm used to in the UK. The station itself though is comfortably like Lime Street in a way, as the architecture is very similar to how Lime Street used to look with the wide open glass roof held up by a multitude of wrought-iron pillars, high yellow-brick walls with semicircular windows set in their uppermost levels.
Paris itself brought back some equivocal memories. Last time I was here I was on holiday with a friend with whom I had what had already become a very destructive (to me, rather than to her) relationship. It's clearly going to take a number of further visits to the city to overlay these memories with some better ones. In fact I'd be quite happy to come back; my survival French is performing well so far and people seem quite happy to make the effort to slow down their speech and use simple words and the occasional gesture because I'm making the effort to speak French. Later this evening I shall go and test it further by going out to dinner.
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Thursday, January 19, 2006
Snow, snow, snow...
I'm getting a little worried about the weather.
In just over two hours I'm due to be flying south to Reykjaiví ready to fly out to France tomorrow morning. From the news I've seen Reykjavík is having one or two problems with snow and ice, to the extent that there were problems on the main airport road this morning and yesterday the leader of one of the main political parties was seriously injured when his car came off the road.
Previously there have only been problems flying when there's been either fog or wind up here in Akureyri, but I've no idea if they'll have problems down south this time instead. What really worries me is that if there is no flight south then the only way I can make it to Keflavík would be to drive down overnight. Which would mean hiring a car, as there's no way I can do it under these conditions in my little car.
It could be an interesting night.
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In just over two hours I'm due to be flying south to Reykjaiví ready to fly out to France tomorrow morning. From the news I've seen Reykjavík is having one or two problems with snow and ice, to the extent that there were problems on the main airport road this morning and yesterday the leader of one of the main political parties was seriously injured when his car came off the road.
Previously there have only been problems flying when there's been either fog or wind up here in Akureyri, but I've no idea if they'll have problems down south this time instead. What really worries me is that if there is no flight south then the only way I can make it to Keflavík would be to drive down overnight. Which would mean hiring a car, as there's no way I can do it under these conditions in my little car.
It could be an interesting night.
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Initial training results
So how did the first training session go?
I had the best night's sleep I've had in several months and woke up refreshed at 07h30, which is something of a miracle given that sunrise was 10h51. Interestingly enough, the pain centered in my upper arm is much reduced but I'm now conscious again of the pain across my back and shoulder blade. This may be because it's no longer masked by the other pain or it may be that the shoulder has got so used to being in an abnormal position that it needs to get used to being in the correct position once more.
What I need now is a bedside table that's actually level with the bed as the storage box I've been using, while fine from futon-level is definitely too low for bed-level. I think I'll have to leave that until I get back from France though.
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I had the best night's sleep I've had in several months and woke up refreshed at 07h30, which is something of a miracle given that sunrise was 10h51. Interestingly enough, the pain centered in my upper arm is much reduced but I'm now conscious again of the pain across my back and shoulder blade. This may be because it's no longer masked by the other pain or it may be that the shoulder has got so used to being in an abnormal position that it needs to get used to being in the correct position once more.
What I need now is a bedside table that's actually level with the bed as the storage box I've been using, while fine from futon-level is definitely too low for bed-level. I think I'll have to leave that until I get back from France though.
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Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Training for Rent-A-Don
Today I commenced my training regime ready for Rent-A-Don at Easter. I bought a bed.
Yes, I know this sounds a little odd, but allow me to explain. I'm still having a lot of trouble with my shoulder and, during discussions with various persons with knowledge of musculo-skeletal problems, have been informed that the first step in improving it is to get a softer bed than my current one. Futons designed for petite Japanese types are not really suitable for giant blobs such as myself as I end up with my spine in a very strange curve and my upper shoulder somewhere around my ear (I tend to sleep on my side rather than my back, in something that vaguely resembles the recovery position).
At present, I have serious doubts about my ability to hold a rapier at the Spanish Guard (arm raised straight forward at shoulder level with the blade parallel to the ground menacing the opponent) in my left hand for more than about 20 seconds without screaming in agony. That's a bit of a nuisance considering that I normally fence left-handed. OK, so Rent-A-Don this year is focussing on the Italian schools again, but I suspect that I'll have the same problem after two or three lunges. So the plan is to get a comfy bed to minimise overnight stress and to do Tai Chi to get the shoulder used to more action than it gets in its day-to-day existance in front of a computer or a class of students.
The bed is due to be delivered at some time between 17h00 and 19h00 tonight, which impressed my quite a lot as I only bought it at 16h20. When I went shopping yesterday I walked past Rúmfatalagerinn and they had this bed on display outside the shop at half price. Hmm, I thought, that's actually affordable. I wonder if they'll still have one by the time I get back from France?
Probably not, I thought.
So I went back today and am now awaiting its arrival with bated breath. The futon has been folded and removed from the bedroom, although it will return to use (supporting an inflatable mattress) when visits me next month. And I am looking forward to a comfortable night's sleep.
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Yes, I know this sounds a little odd, but allow me to explain. I'm still having a lot of trouble with my shoulder and, during discussions with various persons with knowledge of musculo-skeletal problems, have been informed that the first step in improving it is to get a softer bed than my current one. Futons designed for petite Japanese types are not really suitable for giant blobs such as myself as I end up with my spine in a very strange curve and my upper shoulder somewhere around my ear (I tend to sleep on my side rather than my back, in something that vaguely resembles the recovery position).
At present, I have serious doubts about my ability to hold a rapier at the Spanish Guard (arm raised straight forward at shoulder level with the blade parallel to the ground menacing the opponent) in my left hand for more than about 20 seconds without screaming in agony. That's a bit of a nuisance considering that I normally fence left-handed. OK, so Rent-A-Don this year is focussing on the Italian schools again, but I suspect that I'll have the same problem after two or three lunges. So the plan is to get a comfy bed to minimise overnight stress and to do Tai Chi to get the shoulder used to more action than it gets in its day-to-day existance in front of a computer or a class of students.
The bed is due to be delivered at some time between 17h00 and 19h00 tonight, which impressed my quite a lot as I only bought it at 16h20. When I went shopping yesterday I walked past Rúmfatalagerinn and they had this bed on display outside the shop at half price. Hmm, I thought, that's actually affordable. I wonder if they'll still have one by the time I get back from France?
Probably not, I thought.
So I went back today and am now awaiting its arrival with bated breath. The futon has been folded and removed from the bedroom, although it will return to use (supporting an inflatable mattress) when
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Monday, January 16, 2006
The tingle factor
There are some pieces of music that tempt me to stop what ever I'm doing just to listen to them.
One of these is Khatchaturian's Adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia from his ballet Spartacus. (That's The Onedin Line music for the less classically-inclined. :) ) It regularly sends shivers up and down my spine and, if I close my eyes I can almost smell the sea and feel the wind in my hair (okay, so I admit that it has The Onedin Line connotations for me too). As I breathe in and out the motion is that of the waves induced by the rolling and crashing of the music.
It's not the only piece that produces what a Radio 4 series several years ago called the 'Tingle Factor'; others include opening call to arms from Star Wars and the Imperial March from Empire, the Ride of the Valkyries and Siegfried's Funeral March from Wagner's Ring and, oddly enough, The Swan from The Carnival of the Animals. Whenever I hear one of these pieces I find it very difficult not to drop what ever I'm doing and let myself be carried away by the music.
I have learned from experience, though, that whatever I do, I really should NOT put words to these tunes. If I do then I'll be stuck with the words forever when I hear the music. The Drachenwald's Got The Best Of The Beers to the tune of the Imperial March is a case in point. Similarly, having heard the God-squad version of Sibelius' Finlandia - Be Still My Soul - I keep hearing the worlds when listening to the original, which is quite frustrating at times.
Still, I'm willing to put up with this given that I've got the office computer playing Classic FM at last. And as I have my own office there's no-one to look at me in a funny way if I suddenly stop typing to listen.
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One of these is Khatchaturian's Adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia from his ballet Spartacus. (That's The Onedin Line music for the less classically-inclined. :) ) It regularly sends shivers up and down my spine and, if I close my eyes I can almost smell the sea and feel the wind in my hair (okay, so I admit that it has The Onedin Line connotations for me too). As I breathe in and out the motion is that of the waves induced by the rolling and crashing of the music.
It's not the only piece that produces what a Radio 4 series several years ago called the 'Tingle Factor'; others include opening call to arms from Star Wars and the Imperial March from Empire, the Ride of the Valkyries and Siegfried's Funeral March from Wagner's Ring and, oddly enough, The Swan from The Carnival of the Animals. Whenever I hear one of these pieces I find it very difficult not to drop what ever I'm doing and let myself be carried away by the music.
I have learned from experience, though, that whatever I do, I really should NOT put words to these tunes. If I do then I'll be stuck with the words forever when I hear the music. The Drachenwald's Got The Best Of The Beers to the tune of the Imperial March is a case in point. Similarly, having heard the God-squad version of Sibelius' Finlandia - Be Still My Soul - I keep hearing the worlds when listening to the original, which is quite frustrating at times.
Still, I'm willing to put up with this given that I've got the office computer playing Classic FM at last. And as I have my own office there's no-one to look at me in a funny way if I suddenly stop typing to listen.
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Saturday, January 14, 2006
A little effort
The house is tidy. Mostly.
There are now two functional sofas and no big pile of luggage in the middle of the living room. It's now in the middle of the bedroom. The dining table has a clearish surface and most of the books are in the bookcase. As is most of the calligraphy stuff. And I finished another book. And didn't go out because I'm still feeling flu-y.
Whatever the bug is that I caught on the flight back to the UK and laid me low over most of Christmas, it's a tenacious little thing. It's now dropped to my chest so I'm coughing regularly and still feeling run down. Maybe it's time to break out the cough mixture.
And I fell asleep during Midsomer Murders as a result. Pah.
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There are now two functional sofas and no big pile of luggage in the middle of the living room. It's now in the middle of the bedroom. The dining table has a clearish surface and most of the books are in the bookcase. As is most of the calligraphy stuff. And I finished another book. And didn't go out because I'm still feeling flu-y.
Whatever the bug is that I caught on the flight back to the UK and laid me low over most of Christmas, it's a tenacious little thing. It's now dropped to my chest so I'm coughing regularly and still feeling run down. Maybe it's time to break out the cough mixture.
And I fell asleep during Midsomer Murders as a result. Pah.
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Friday, January 13, 2006
Ooh! A Midsomer Murder!
Yes, tomorrow night Bugsplat is showing a Midsomer Murder. At ten to one in the morning.
What sort of crazy scheduling is this? Is Midsomer so depraved that it should be hidden away from the masses? Or is it that it's so good that it has to be shown when people get back from their evening's drinking? I'm rather worried that I'm going to fall asleep in the middle of it the way I did with the last one... at about the same time. It wouldn't be so bad if I had a video/DVD recorder, but given the little watchable TV a recorder just isn't worth it.
Fortunately I have an alternative. I admit that I'm sufficiently sad to have subscribed to the Midsomer Murders dvd magazine, so when I get back to the UK next there will be a neat pile of Midsomer Murders DVDs awaiting me. Hurrah! One day I shall even manage to see the Christmas one. I missed it both last year and then again this year (thanks to a phone call and the inescapable requirement to record The Return of the Goodies on the other side.
Nevertheless, I still have quite a nice pile of things to watch after Christmas. The first eight Sharpe DVDs to start with. And a similar number of Carry On movies thanks to my sister. She very cleverly bought me some of the less well-known ones, including the Arthurian, mediaeval and Tudor What A Carry On tales. And, of course, there's no knowing what I might pick up at Paris Charles De Gaulle next week when I head off to Compiègne for my cognitive science seminar.
This weekend, though, I have to sit down and sort out the Chirurgeonate paperwork and write my Domesday report. And tidy the flat. And write a couple of references. And maybe do a bit of embroidery.
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What sort of crazy scheduling is this? Is Midsomer so depraved that it should be hidden away from the masses? Or is it that it's so good that it has to be shown when people get back from their evening's drinking? I'm rather worried that I'm going to fall asleep in the middle of it the way I did with the last one... at about the same time. It wouldn't be so bad if I had a video/DVD recorder, but given the little watchable TV a recorder just isn't worth it.
Fortunately I have an alternative. I admit that I'm sufficiently sad to have subscribed to the Midsomer Murders dvd magazine, so when I get back to the UK next there will be a neat pile of Midsomer Murders DVDs awaiting me. Hurrah! One day I shall even manage to see the Christmas one. I missed it both last year and then again this year (thanks to a phone call and the inescapable requirement to record The Return of the Goodies on the other side.
Nevertheless, I still have quite a nice pile of things to watch after Christmas. The first eight Sharpe DVDs to start with. And a similar number of Carry On movies thanks to my sister. She very cleverly bought me some of the less well-known ones, including the Arthurian, mediaeval and Tudor What A Carry On tales. And, of course, there's no knowing what I might pick up at Paris Charles De Gaulle next week when I head off to Compiègne for my cognitive science seminar.
This weekend, though, I have to sit down and sort out the Chirurgeonate paperwork and write my Domesday report. And tidy the flat. And write a couple of references. And maybe do a bit of embroidery.
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Thursday, January 12, 2006
Another magic number
Today's number is 14,000.
That is, according to Fréttablaðið, the number of immigrants in Iceland. Of these, the largest groups are the Poles - 2000 of them - and the Danes - 870. I suppose that's understandable about the Danes, as Denmark was the old colonial power and there are still many links between Iceland and Denmark. 4.5 percent of the population were born outside Iceland of non-Icelandic parents, a number comparable to immigrations levels in the other scandinavian countries.
I discovered another astonishing thing about Iceland yesterday too - gambling is illegal. I knew that you didn't find slot machines in bars, just in airports and bus stations, but I assumed that somewhere in Reykjavík there were insamely expensive casinos catering to the many millionaires that Iceland now seems to be producing. But no! Not a one! The only allowable forms of gambling are the national lottery and the stock market. They don't even bet on horse races! I mean, what sort of strange place is this where they put so much time, effort and money into breeding horses and then don't indulge in a bit of a flutter on the races?
Very odd.
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That is, according to Fréttablaðið, the number of immigrants in Iceland. Of these, the largest groups are the Poles - 2000 of them - and the Danes - 870. I suppose that's understandable about the Danes, as Denmark was the old colonial power and there are still many links between Iceland and Denmark. 4.5 percent of the population were born outside Iceland of non-Icelandic parents, a number comparable to immigrations levels in the other scandinavian countries.
I discovered another astonishing thing about Iceland yesterday too - gambling is illegal. I knew that you didn't find slot machines in bars, just in airports and bus stations, but I assumed that somewhere in Reykjavík there were insamely expensive casinos catering to the many millionaires that Iceland now seems to be producing. But no! Not a one! The only allowable forms of gambling are the national lottery and the stock market. They don't even bet on horse races! I mean, what sort of strange place is this where they put so much time, effort and money into breeding horses and then don't indulge in a bit of a flutter on the races?
Very odd.
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
The magic number 300,000
The Icelandic population - including all those ex-pats like myself - hit 300,000 earlier this month.
This is a major landmark. Seemingly there's been a bit of a baby boom recently, with one baby being born every hour and five people dying every day (according to www.IcelandReview.com, my main source of Icelandic news). Certainly there are a lot of babies around. There's not a lot else to do on those long winter nights, after all. The naval base at Keflavík has one of the highest birth rates of any US base worldwide, I'm told, and for the same reason.
What these figures don't show is that a major factor in the population increase is the migrant labourers who''ve come in from Eastern Europe, India and China to work in the meat packaging factories and the construction projects in the east of the country, all doing jobs that the locals won't stoop to. It's much the same as is being seen in the UK with meat and fish processors in the highlands of Scotland. No matter how low the wages in local terms, they're much higher than those in their homelands.
So what does this magic number actually mean? Nothing, when you think about it. In a few more years Iceland may beat the Bahamas (301,790) into 176th place in the world population rankings (according to US Census figures). Currently it has a smaller population than Malta (398,534), Luxembourg (468,571) and Cyprus (780,133). There are over 200 European cities that have more than 300,000 inhabitants. There are one and a half Scousers, two Glaswegians or over three Brummies to every Icelander. Taking things to the extreme, there are more than thirty thousand Chinese for each single person on this isolated north Atlantic rock.
No wonder this place has the lowest population density in Europe.
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This is a major landmark. Seemingly there's been a bit of a baby boom recently, with one baby being born every hour and five people dying every day (according to www.IcelandReview.com, my main source of Icelandic news). Certainly there are a lot of babies around. There's not a lot else to do on those long winter nights, after all. The naval base at Keflavík has one of the highest birth rates of any US base worldwide, I'm told, and for the same reason.
What these figures don't show is that a major factor in the population increase is the migrant labourers who''ve come in from Eastern Europe, India and China to work in the meat packaging factories and the construction projects in the east of the country, all doing jobs that the locals won't stoop to. It's much the same as is being seen in the UK with meat and fish processors in the highlands of Scotland. No matter how low the wages in local terms, they're much higher than those in their homelands.
So what does this magic number actually mean? Nothing, when you think about it. In a few more years Iceland may beat the Bahamas (301,790) into 176th place in the world population rankings (according to US Census figures). Currently it has a smaller population than Malta (398,534), Luxembourg (468,571) and Cyprus (780,133). There are over 200 European cities that have more than 300,000 inhabitants. There are one and a half Scousers, two Glaswegians or over three Brummies to every Icelander. Taking things to the extreme, there are more than thirty thousand Chinese for each single person on this isolated north Atlantic rock.
No wonder this place has the lowest population density in Europe.
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Tuesday, January 10, 2006
A dangerous Legacy
Computer games are dangerous things.
They eat your time and you don't realise they're doing it. I have discovered... actually I was introduced to it by Ray The Choirboy With Attitude while he was still at Keflavík... Legacy for PalmOS. It's a fairly straightforward adventure game where you wander around a world killing assorted monsters, collecting treasure and generally saving the world. The controls aren't particularly complicated and the whole game has the feel of a Tunnels and Trolls dungeon bash. It's also just swallowed up about an hour and a half of my day.
This is one of the reasons I've always been a bit wary of computer games. I always feel guilty about playing games, possibly because there's nothing to show for it at the end of it. I always feel a bit guilty when I spend a day reading a book for exactly the same reason. No, let's rephrase that - I feel guilty if I spend a day reading fiction. Reading text books is okay, but reading fiction is definitely guilt-inducing.
Sitting listening to the radio or the tv while doing needlework is a different matter altogether. There I have some sort of result, something to show that my time hasn't been wasted. I think I shall put the game away for the evening now and pick up an embroidery instead. Call it, if you will, guilt management.
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They eat your time and you don't realise they're doing it. I have discovered... actually I was introduced to it by Ray The Choirboy With Attitude while he was still at Keflavík... Legacy for PalmOS. It's a fairly straightforward adventure game where you wander around a world killing assorted monsters, collecting treasure and generally saving the world. The controls aren't particularly complicated and the whole game has the feel of a Tunnels and Trolls dungeon bash. It's also just swallowed up about an hour and a half of my day.
This is one of the reasons I've always been a bit wary of computer games. I always feel guilty about playing games, possibly because there's nothing to show for it at the end of it. I always feel a bit guilty when I spend a day reading a book for exactly the same reason. No, let's rephrase that - I feel guilty if I spend a day reading fiction. Reading text books is okay, but reading fiction is definitely guilt-inducing.
Sitting listening to the radio or the tv while doing needlework is a different matter altogether. There I have some sort of result, something to show that my time hasn't been wasted. I think I shall put the game away for the evening now and pick up an embroidery instead. Call it, if you will, guilt management.
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Monday, January 09, 2006
Missing chicken
There seems to be a chicken shortage in Bonus.
After work today I went shopping, planning to pick up a pile of stuff including a six-pack of chicken breasts (I had a strange desire for chicken curry for dinner this evening). When I got into Bonus though I was rather surprised to see that they'd rearranged the meat and dairy section to completely remove all signs of uncooked chicken.
Now while I appreciate that H5N1 has made it to Turkey, I feel that removing all poultry from the shelves in Iceland is going a bit far in terms of preventative measures. How am I supposed to stock my freezer now? I suspect I'll just have to pay visits to the other supermarkets to see if they too are lacking in chicken. Who knows? Perhaps this is just the beginning of Kjuklingursaga - the Legend of the Missing Chickens.
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After work today I went shopping, planning to pick up a pile of stuff including a six-pack of chicken breasts (I had a strange desire for chicken curry for dinner this evening). When I got into Bonus though I was rather surprised to see that they'd rearranged the meat and dairy section to completely remove all signs of uncooked chicken.
Now while I appreciate that H5N1 has made it to Turkey, I feel that removing all poultry from the shelves in Iceland is going a bit far in terms of preventative measures. How am I supposed to stock my freezer now? I suspect I'll just have to pay visits to the other supermarkets to see if they too are lacking in chicken. Who knows? Perhaps this is just the beginning of Kjuklingursaga - the Legend of the Missing Chickens.
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Sunday, January 08, 2006
Fiskur og franskur
That's fish and chips to the rest of us.
I could have gone shopping today but then discovered that I had a still-edible potato in the fridge and the Icelandic equivalent of fish fingers - more like fish chunks really - in the freezer so I didn't bother. And as I have a deep fat fryer these were clearly the makings of fish and chips. The fish, even in the fish finger equivalent, is very good.
As you've proabably guessed, it wasn't a particularly inspiring day. I did write two thirds of a lecture though.
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I could have gone shopping today but then discovered that I had a still-edible potato in the fridge and the Icelandic equivalent of fish fingers - more like fish chunks really - in the freezer so I didn't bother. And as I have a deep fat fryer these were clearly the makings of fish and chips. The fish, even in the fish finger equivalent, is very good.
As you've proabably guessed, it wasn't a particularly inspiring day. I did write two thirds of a lecture though.
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Saturday, January 07, 2006
Pampered by my iBook
I'd forgotten how tricky it can be to set up a windows network.
For the last couple of years I've been pampered by my iBook - just plug it in and it works everything out for you, leaving you just to add little things like email account details. My new windows machine, on the other hand, requires me to do things like manually ping the router just to make sure everything's working. I can just imagine the look of terror on, say, my Mum's face if she had to do that. As opposed to having me do it for her, that is.
Pampered was not how I felt this morning. I had a rather cold and uncomfortable night last night and woke up feeling stiff and sore. Clearly I was supposed to be sitting up reading the bible or something rather than snuggling up in bed with a computer and Michael Wood's In Search of Myths and Heroes. Breakfast was equally sparse, with weak ribena doing duty as fruit juice. Although to give her her due, the woman on reception did check the weather first thing this morning and told me it was good for flying when I went down for breakfast.
Which is more than Air Iceland did. According to the last info I got last night the next weather check was 08:30, so I could expect to know then when I would be leaving. I got to the airport at about 08:40 to be told that my flight was due to leave at 08:45. A little more information sharing would not have gone amiss. Still, I'm now back here. I've picked up the Information Visualisation book I need from the office and can spend tomorrow actually writing the lecture. Business as usual.
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For the last couple of years I've been pampered by my iBook - just plug it in and it works everything out for you, leaving you just to add little things like email account details. My new windows machine, on the other hand, requires me to do things like manually ping the router just to make sure everything's working. I can just imagine the look of terror on, say, my Mum's face if she had to do that. As opposed to having me do it for her, that is.
Pampered was not how I felt this morning. I had a rather cold and uncomfortable night last night and woke up feeling stiff and sore. Clearly I was supposed to be sitting up reading the bible or something rather than snuggling up in bed with a computer and Michael Wood's In Search of Myths and Heroes. Breakfast was equally sparse, with weak ribena doing duty as fruit juice. Although to give her her due, the woman on reception did check the weather first thing this morning and told me it was good for flying when I went down for breakfast.
Which is more than Air Iceland did. According to the last info I got last night the next weather check was 08:30, so I could expect to know then when I would be leaving. I got to the airport at about 08:40 to be told that my flight was due to leave at 08:45. A little more information sharing would not have gone amiss. Still, I'm now back here. I've picked up the Information Visualisation book I need from the office and can spend tomorrow actually writing the lecture. Business as usual.
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Friday, January 06, 2006
Pre-flight drinks with Captain Cock-Up
I type this while sitting on a small bed in the Reykjavik Salvation Army Guest House, the weather having disrupted my plans to make it from Liverpool to Akureyri in a single day.
The day started at the crack of sparrows to drive to Manchester Airport (not one of Mum's favourite places - it's in Manchester, after all) after which I successfully flew to Heathrow. OK, so I couldn't book my luggage through to Reykjavik as the journey wasn't booked as a single journey, but I did manage to check in my hand luggage as well as my hold luggage so all I had to carry was a handbag.
The I met up with Penny for coffee. I screwed up on that one - I told her Terminal 3 rather than Terminal 3 but we found each other in the end, courtesy of an announcement on the tannoy, and enjoyed coffee, hot chocolate and pains-au-raisin at Costa's. This did mean that I didn't have time to wander around duty free but I managed to find M*A*S*H season 7 on the way to the gate.
And the Icelandair flight was great. The cordon bleu chicken on a bed of vegetable risotto was delicious and is up there with the BA mid-afternoon Edinburgh shuttle's scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream as the highlights of in-flight catering. It was a bit bumpy on the way in to Keflavik, which made me think that it was likely to be very bumpy on the way up to Akureyri.
In fact, it's so windy that they've cancelled the evening flight and the next weather news won't be until 08:30 tomorrow - which means they've seriously delayed the first two morning flights as well. Air Iceland won't pay for overnight accommondation but they did arrange it for me. £50 a night for a room without tv, tea/coffee making, or even an on-suite bathroom. Next time this happens I'm off up to the HI City Hostel instead.
So here I am with the computer and some DVDs to keep me occupied. Someone outside is having a loud firework display. Ah well, at least I'll be able to go shopping on the way home tomorrow.
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The day started at the crack of sparrows to drive to Manchester Airport (not one of Mum's favourite places - it's in Manchester, after all) after which I successfully flew to Heathrow. OK, so I couldn't book my luggage through to Reykjavik as the journey wasn't booked as a single journey, but I did manage to check in my hand luggage as well as my hold luggage so all I had to carry was a handbag.
The I met up with Penny for coffee. I screwed up on that one - I told her Terminal 3 rather than Terminal 3 but we found each other in the end, courtesy of an announcement on the tannoy, and enjoyed coffee, hot chocolate and pains-au-raisin at Costa's. This did mean that I didn't have time to wander around duty free but I managed to find M*A*S*H season 7 on the way to the gate.
And the Icelandair flight was great. The cordon bleu chicken on a bed of vegetable risotto was delicious and is up there with the BA mid-afternoon Edinburgh shuttle's scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream as the highlights of in-flight catering. It was a bit bumpy on the way in to Keflavik, which made me think that it was likely to be very bumpy on the way up to Akureyri.
In fact, it's so windy that they've cancelled the evening flight and the next weather news won't be until 08:30 tomorrow - which means they've seriously delayed the first two morning flights as well. Air Iceland won't pay for overnight accommondation but they did arrange it for me. £50 a night for a room without tv, tea/coffee making, or even an on-suite bathroom. Next time this happens I'm off up to the HI City Hostel instead.
So here I am with the computer and some DVDs to keep me occupied. Someone outside is having a loud firework display. Ah well, at least I'll be able to go shopping on the way home tomorrow.
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Thursday, January 05, 2006
Miserable and flu-ridden
Tomorrow I fly back to Iceland. I don't particularly want to. I don't particularly want to do anything at all except curl up and hope the world goes away. It won't, of course.
Actually, I do look forward to being on my own again, but I'd much rather I was on my own somewhere a bit less remote. And with a bit more in the way of entertainment.
Still, we're having curry for dinner tonight, and very little beats my Mum's curry as a meal.
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Actually, I do look forward to being on my own again, but I'd much rather I was on my own somewhere a bit less remote. And with a bit more in the way of entertainment.
Still, we're having curry for dinner tonight, and very little beats my Mum's curry as a meal.
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Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Hurrah for DVD writers
Not only do I have a DVD writer, but I also have the software to make it particularly useful for taking backups of useful DVDs. Like Sharpe. :) And Hornblower. :)
Over Christmas one of the videos here died, so Dad went out and bought a new video recorder. Not a DVD recorder - oh no, it was for the main tv, not his tv, so a DVD recorder would have been too expensive. I managed not to explode at the idiocy of buying a video recorder under the circumstances. but it was hard.
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Over Christmas one of the videos here died, so Dad went out and bought a new video recorder. Not a DVD recorder - oh no, it was for the main tv, not his tv, so a DVD recorder would have been too expensive. I managed not to explode at the idiocy of buying a video recorder under the circumstances. but it was hard.
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Tuesday, January 03, 2006
The trouble with dial-up
As we don't have broadband here, doing anything with the net is an exercise in frustration, boredom and often futility. That was certainly the case today.
For instance, while I could purchase McAfee Virus Scan online, I couldn't actually download it. Nor could I download the software for Mum's Palm. The only reason Mum's machine is now anti-virused is that she only needed to renew the subscription and download the definition files rather than the software as well. Unfortunately she doesn't have an installation disk because Dell send everything out as customised disk images. Ho hum.
Hopefully the broadband pack will arrive tomorrow or Thursday. If not the I shall have to download stuff in Iceland, stick it on a CD and then post it to the UK. I think I'm going to have to arrange a couple of days up here before Champions in order to make sure everything is working.
At least they're going to be too busy until mid-February to worry about it. Hmm... the week after the Cog Sci course in Akureyri is a reading week... no lectures... maybe I should think about doing a house call then...
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For instance, while I could purchase McAfee Virus Scan online, I couldn't actually download it. Nor could I download the software for Mum's Palm. The only reason Mum's machine is now anti-virused is that she only needed to renew the subscription and download the definition files rather than the software as well. Unfortunately she doesn't have an installation disk because Dell send everything out as customised disk images. Ho hum.
Hopefully the broadband pack will arrive tomorrow or Thursday. If not the I shall have to download stuff in Iceland, stick it on a CD and then post it to the UK. I think I'm going to have to arrange a couple of days up here before Champions in order to make sure everything is working.
At least they're going to be too busy until mid-February to worry about it. Hmm... the week after the Cog Sci course in Akureyri is a reading week... no lectures... maybe I should think about doing a house call then...
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Monday, January 02, 2006
Knowing wildly talented people
Not only are my author friends authors, now Bob has taken the move into radio comedy.
I borrowed a tape of his first script, The Queen's Heid, produced by BBC Radio Scotland for St. Andrew's day this year. It was very Scottish - no surprise there - but very amusing. I was particularly amused by the dung collector's I have a dream... to one day own my own shovel.
This meant though, that I had to return the tape to Steven in Prestonpans. This wasn't a problem, especially as I also got to pick up copies of Elizabeth's latest book for myself and Mum.
The Forth Road Bridge celebrated by return by arranging for an accident that caused an hour-long tail back, followed by two more highly congested areas on the motorway heading south. Both of them where the motorway drops down to two lanes from three... I think that it may be that the M6 is now Full most of the time.
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I borrowed a tape of his first script, The Queen's Heid, produced by BBC Radio Scotland for St. Andrew's day this year. It was very Scottish - no surprise there - but very amusing. I was particularly amused by the dung collector's I have a dream... to one day own my own shovel.
This meant though, that I had to return the tape to Steven in Prestonpans. This wasn't a problem, especially as I also got to pick up copies of Elizabeth's latest book for myself and Mum.
The Forth Road Bridge celebrated by return by arranging for an accident that caused an hour-long tail back, followed by two more highly congested areas on the motorway heading south. Both of them where the motorway drops down to two lanes from three... I think that it may be that the M6 is now Full most of the time.
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Sunday, January 01, 2006
A Happier New Year
New year is far more fun than Christmas, nowadays, mainly because I spend it with friends rather than family. This year, as usual, I was up in St. Andrews with the Harris Mob, the Beards and the Nicols. It's quite scary in a way - Kirsty & Mark not only have a 3-year old, but Kirsty is podding again. Very scary indeed.
As well as a most enjoyable day, I had a most enjoyable evening at Andrew's new year party. It was great to see some of the St. Androids again, and we sat there chatting until the early hours.
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As well as a most enjoyable day, I had a most enjoyable evening at Andrew's new year party. It was great to see some of the St. Androids again, and we sat there chatting until the early hours.
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