I will openly confess to being a travel junkie. I looove getting that boarding pass and getting on a plane. As long, mind, as it doesn't involve budget airlines or charter flights to remote mine sites (too often).
I have bounced between Perth and Brisbane enough times in the last few months that, even upgrading every possible opportunity, I still accumulated beaucoup points.
It's been a while since I have done a long-haul international trip. You know, the kind that involves four flights in 32 hours and ends at some little airport in small-town somewhere and it's raining. Except the one time when I went to Buenos Aires and the plane was 3 hours late because it snowed for the first time in 86 years.
However my ever-entertaining employer has invited me to visit upper Michigan for a couple of weeks. We looked it up on Google Earth. We discovered it is as far as you can travel from my home town in Perth without coming back (apparently the earth is round! Who knew!).
And I have had a rotten cold for the last week which is finally releasing its grip on my nose.
So, tired, snuffly and over-worked, I took this as an opportunity to really beat every ounce of enjoyment out of being a platinum frequent flyer.
As I write, it is sunrise in Melbourne in the international first class lounge. I have had a nice long shower in a marble bathroom with expensive soap, I have upgraded the next 14 hour leg of the trip to first class, I have had a very strong and very Melbourne macchiato, I am sipping Pellegrino in a leather armchair while I watch the planes go by, and I am about to go and have a facial at the spa.
It can only go downhill from here...
Next blog and next destination - LAX - it's an adjective, not a noun...
Friday, October 22, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
iPad apps I'd like to see...
I have had an iPad now for about 6 weeks. I think. TBI (Time Before iPad) is a little vague. How did I ever stay calm on a flight from Brisbane to Perth before I had this thing?
Wondrous as it is, I thought, when I let my imagination free, I thought that there were still some apps that were missing from the app store:
Wondrous as it is, I thought, when I let my imagination free, I thought that there were still some apps that were missing from the app store:
- etch-a-sketch - no wait, a few people have done that;
- a tunable tuning fork - I showed the middle C tuning fork app to my low-tech acoustic musician friends and when they stopped laughing, their first question was - "how do I change pitch?". It's been done - http://www.apptism.com/apps/stay-in-tune
- OK, how about a Terry Pratchett app - nobody would have thought of that - http://download.cnet.com/Terry-Pratchett-The-Pocket-Essential-Guide-for-iPad/3000-2125_4-75183693.html;
- hmmm - a T-shirt designer? Nah - too many good sketch apps fill this niche;
- a twitcher's diary - really - http://www.appolicious.com/tech/apps/232206-twitcher-edgeware-technology-ltd;
- but does it do aromatherapy - oh seriously - http://www.medlmobile.com/index.php?page=viewapp&appId=5;
- an atlas of tropical skin diseases - eeeuwww - http://www.medlmobile.com/index.php?page=viewapp&appId=5;
- a general aviation flight planner - http://www.medlmobile.com/index.php?page=viewapp&appId=5;
- a 3D polygon modeller - uh-oh, this exercise is starting to get expensive - http://www.lostpencil.com/?page_id=76;
- a trainspotter's diary;
- a patchwork quilt pattern designer.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
So where does Masterchef really shop?
I watched Friday's MasterChef MasterClass, hoping to see a recipe that wasn't either deconstructed McDonalds or "Death by Cholesterol".
The roast pheasant with salsify sounded great - I love game. So I got the recipe list and went to Coles to buy my ingredients. Coles, after all, is "where Masterchefs shop".
It looks like if I was going to rely on Coles for my ingredients, it was lemons poached in chicken stock with butter and lettuce.
How good is a cross-marketing campaign if the featured ingredients of a featured recipe are unobtainable from the biggest advertiser?
Note, this wasn't Coles Express, this was one of the big "new Coles" in one of the most expensive suburbs in Perth.
And you know what you get if you search for "pheasant" on the Coles website?
"Your search - pheasant - did not match any documents.
No pages were found containing "pheasant".
Suggestions:
I think I'll stick to the independents - at least they can spell food...
The roast pheasant with salsify sounded great - I love game. So I got the recipe list and went to Coles to buy my ingredients. Coles, after all, is "where Masterchefs shop".
- 1 pheasant - NO
- 1 bunch tarragon, large leaves picked - NO
- 1 single-bulb garlic - NO
- 6 salsify - NO
- 8-9 black garlic cloves - NO
- ½ cup flat pancetta, cut into lardons - NO
It looks like if I was going to rely on Coles for my ingredients, it was lemons poached in chicken stock with butter and lettuce.
How good is a cross-marketing campaign if the featured ingredients of a featured recipe are unobtainable from the biggest advertiser?
Note, this wasn't Coles Express, this was one of the big "new Coles" in one of the most expensive suburbs in Perth.
And you know what you get if you search for "pheasant" on the Coles website?
"Your search - pheasant - did not match any documents.
No pages were found containing "pheasant".
Suggestions:
- Make sure all words are spelled correctly.
- Try different keywords.
- Try more general keywords.
- Try searching for a less pretentious ingredient, you poseur - what's wrong with chicken?"
I think I'll stick to the independents - at least they can spell food...
Friday, June 18, 2010
Creating terrain in PoVRay using isosurface and pigment
 |
| The original jpeg |
Every now and again I play around with isosurfaces in PoVRay. The one thing I persistently have trouble remembering how to do is generate solid terrain using a heightfield image mapped onto an isosurface.
There are plenty of examples out there of how to do it with a sphere, but for terrain you would rather use a box.
There are plenty of examples out there of how to do it with a sphere, but for terrain you would rather use a box.
Here's an example using the jpeg to the left.
#declare P1=function{
pigment{
image_map{jpeg "texturegen.jpg" map_type 0 }
rotate x*180 translate <0.5,0.5,0> scale 2 }
}
Note the translation, rotation and scaling are required to make the original image sit in the same orientation and position on the isosurface as they appear in the original image.
The second part is the isosurface itself.
 |
| The isosurface version |
#declare Land =
isosurface {
function { z-Height*P1(x,y,z).gray}
contained_by{box{<-1,-1,-1><1,1,1>}}
max_gradient 20
translate <-0.5,0.5,-0.5> scale <5,5,0.2>
rotate x*-90
}
object {Land translate <-0.5,0,-0.5> scale <100,1,100> }
Again, the isosurface has to be scaled and rotated for the image to appear correctly on the top side.
Was this post complete gobbledygook? You need to visit PoVRay.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Nanny flies coach
Last week I had to go to Brisbane for a couple of days and I stayed at the Sofitel. I don't normally stay at the Sofitel - it's very convenient for the office, but the Stamford Plaza down the bottom of Edward Street has a much bigger swimming pool.
The other thing that puts me off the Sofitel is the fake Franglais. All the staff have been trained to say "Bonjour, how can I help you?". It sounds very cute, but it doesn't have the same ring of competence that you would find in, say, Luxembourg. There, when they rattle off "hello, bonjour, guten tag, gute morgen..." and smile expectantly, you know they will cope with anything you throw at them.
The staff at the Sofitel have that slightly panicked look of people who have taken three classes of "French for the Hospitality Industry". I have travelled a bit in French-speaking countries and was very tempted to test their competence. But I didn't. I wasn't feeling mean enough. And though I could string together the words for "Your swimming pool is too short and too far from my room", I could not find the right tone of disappointment for "you have hidden the room service menu from me, your crispy duck salad isn't crispy, isn't salad and when I order pomme mousseline in a French hotel, I do not expect potato".
While I was leafing through the hotel guide in my room (trying to find the opening hours for the pool and waiting for another room service menu), I came across a handwritten annotation on one of the pages:
Jun 5th to LA
Kim and Bean - business
Nanny - coach
This was fascinating...who were these people?
Probably American because they refer to coach instead of economy. Unless nanny was catching the bus...
Was Kim the wife, or the husband, or the baby? Was Bean the baby? Was the author of the note another person, or possibly Kim (or Nanny?). Why did Nanny have to fly coach? What if Bean started crying on the flight, would Nanny come up to business to collect Bean, or would Kim take Bean back to Nanny? Why not put Bean in coach and Nanny up front? What does a baby care where it's sitting? Perhaps Nanny is Kim's mother, or the author of the note's mother (let's call him Tom). Had Tom and Nanny had a falling out? Was Nanny paying for her own travel and economising? Was the flight full and nanny drew the short straw? Perhaps Nanny is a superior kind of domestic servant who would feel she was giving herself airs if she sat up front?
I finally formed a hypothesis - Tom, Kim, Bean and Nanny all live together in LA. Tom does something in cosmetic medicine (dentistry?). American Tom is in Brisbane for a conference, but he brought his Australian wife Kim and two-year-old Bean with him so they could visit Kim's parents in retirement on the Gold Coast. Bean is a bit of a handful, so they brought the nanny along to give Kim a break. However, the practice (or possibly the drug company) will only pay for Kim's travel (part of the conference package) and not the nanny's. Bean flies free. Nanny had to sit down the back of the bus with all the returning tourists.
At this point the room service menu arrived - pomme mousseline or smoked salmon rollade? More important things to think about... but if you are Kim, Bean, or the nanny, please let me know the full story...
The other thing that puts me off the Sofitel is the fake Franglais. All the staff have been trained to say "Bonjour, how can I help you?". It sounds very cute, but it doesn't have the same ring of competence that you would find in, say, Luxembourg. There, when they rattle off "hello, bonjour, guten tag, gute morgen..." and smile expectantly, you know they will cope with anything you throw at them.
The staff at the Sofitel have that slightly panicked look of people who have taken three classes of "French for the Hospitality Industry". I have travelled a bit in French-speaking countries and was very tempted to test their competence. But I didn't. I wasn't feeling mean enough. And though I could string together the words for "Your swimming pool is too short and too far from my room", I could not find the right tone of disappointment for "you have hidden the room service menu from me, your crispy duck salad isn't crispy, isn't salad and when I order pomme mousseline in a French hotel, I do not expect potato".
While I was leafing through the hotel guide in my room (trying to find the opening hours for the pool and waiting for another room service menu), I came across a handwritten annotation on one of the pages:
Jun 5th to LA
Kim and Bean - business
Nanny - coach
This was fascinating...who were these people?
Probably American because they refer to coach instead of economy. Unless nanny was catching the bus...
Was Kim the wife, or the husband, or the baby? Was Bean the baby? Was the author of the note another person, or possibly Kim (or Nanny?). Why did Nanny have to fly coach? What if Bean started crying on the flight, would Nanny come up to business to collect Bean, or would Kim take Bean back to Nanny? Why not put Bean in coach and Nanny up front? What does a baby care where it's sitting? Perhaps Nanny is Kim's mother, or the author of the note's mother (let's call him Tom). Had Tom and Nanny had a falling out? Was Nanny paying for her own travel and economising? Was the flight full and nanny drew the short straw? Perhaps Nanny is a superior kind of domestic servant who would feel she was giving herself airs if she sat up front?
I finally formed a hypothesis - Tom, Kim, Bean and Nanny all live together in LA. Tom does something in cosmetic medicine (dentistry?). American Tom is in Brisbane for a conference, but he brought his Australian wife Kim and two-year-old Bean with him so they could visit Kim's parents in retirement on the Gold Coast. Bean is a bit of a handful, so they brought the nanny along to give Kim a break. However, the practice (or possibly the drug company) will only pay for Kim's travel (part of the conference package) and not the nanny's. Bean flies free. Nanny had to sit down the back of the bus with all the returning tourists.
At this point the room service menu arrived - pomme mousseline or smoked salmon rollade? More important things to think about... but if you are Kim, Bean, or the nanny, please let me know the full story...
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Climate change, hacked emails and why it really doesn't matter
In a recent WSJ blog, Mike Hulme said
"The problem [...] with getting our relationship with science wrong is simple: We expect too much certainty, and hence clarity, about what should be done. Consequently, we fail to engage in honest and robust argument about our competing political visions and ethical values."
Let me put my credentials on the table first of all.
I'm not a climate scientist, a hacker or a philosopher. I believe that climate change is anthropogenic, without being able to have a very informed debate on the subject. I believe that some scientists have been indiscreet in committing some of their views and intentions to email, but I also believe it was wrong to steal the emails and publish them out of context.
The thing is, it just doesn't matter.
We are watching a group of scientists behave like scientists. Dissent, resentment, emotion, political behaviour, bias and withholding of information are absolutely part of the scientific process. Just remember Huxley, Darwin and Wallace.
Thomas Kuhn, in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, sums up the issue perfectly in the following quotation:
"The proliferation of competing articulations, the willingness to try anything, the expression of explicit discontent, the recourse to philosophy and to debate over fundamentals, all these are symptoms of a transition from normal to extraordinary research."
Anthropogenic climate change is not just normal science - it is a new paradigm - a final acknowledgement that humans step heavily enough on the earth for the earth to react. We are still in the early days of a collective intuitive leap to a different view of our effect on the world. Change is frightening, and it is not in the least surprising that people go to excessive lengths to either promote or deny the change. It doesn't mean they're necessarily wrong - that's not logic.
As Kuhn also says,
"If any and every failure to fit were ground for theory rejection, all theories ought to be rejected at all times."
Don't use dissent and denial as a convenient reason to reject the science - understand the process. I give Mike Hulme the last word:
"If climategate leads to greater openness and transparency in climate science, it will have done a good thing."
"The problem [...] with getting our relationship with science wrong is simple: We expect too much certainty, and hence clarity, about what should be done. Consequently, we fail to engage in honest and robust argument about our competing political visions and ethical values."
Let me put my credentials on the table first of all.
I'm not a climate scientist, a hacker or a philosopher. I believe that climate change is anthropogenic, without being able to have a very informed debate on the subject. I believe that some scientists have been indiscreet in committing some of their views and intentions to email, but I also believe it was wrong to steal the emails and publish them out of context.
The thing is, it just doesn't matter.
We are watching a group of scientists behave like scientists. Dissent, resentment, emotion, political behaviour, bias and withholding of information are absolutely part of the scientific process. Just remember Huxley, Darwin and Wallace.
Thomas Kuhn, in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, sums up the issue perfectly in the following quotation:
"The proliferation of competing articulations, the willingness to try anything, the expression of explicit discontent, the recourse to philosophy and to debate over fundamentals, all these are symptoms of a transition from normal to extraordinary research."
Anthropogenic climate change is not just normal science - it is a new paradigm - a final acknowledgement that humans step heavily enough on the earth for the earth to react. We are still in the early days of a collective intuitive leap to a different view of our effect on the world. Change is frightening, and it is not in the least surprising that people go to excessive lengths to either promote or deny the change. It doesn't mean they're necessarily wrong - that's not logic.
As Kuhn also says,
"If any and every failure to fit were ground for theory rejection, all theories ought to be rejected at all times."
Don't use dissent and denial as a convenient reason to reject the science - understand the process. I give Mike Hulme the last word:
"If climategate leads to greater openness and transparency in climate science, it will have done a good thing."
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Red meat and Dennis the orangutan
I am not one for topical posts, but this one is a factoid to be commented on. Australasians may well have seen the ads featuring Dennis the orangutan and Sam Neill.
Now I am not a PETA fan or an advocate for red meat - I have done without eating things on four legs quite happily for more than 15 years. However, I do not grudge the carnivores their fun. I do though, have a problem with bad science (and bad fact-checking). I think it important to point out that at least half the team promoting red meat (Dennis) is predominantly fruitarian. In fact the websites I have checked, comment that the only animal protein orangutans generally consume is insects. I would also wonder how much lamb or beef you would normally find wandering the Sumatran forest...
BTW, I suspect that Dennis, as well as being a child in orangutan terms, is actually a girl.
Monday, May 18, 2009
I assume I am being punished for something
If only I knew what...
It's so exciting being a mining company employee. My dizzy, glamorous life takes me all over the world. It seems only weeks ago I was slumming in London: catching the Tube, drinking lattes, eating sushi, shopping at Harvey Nichols...
And here I am, in Capella, pop.730, Queensland, Australia. You can see my room from space (the outside, anyway).
There are lots of things to see and do in Capella.
There is the grain storage shed.
There is the plaster cow and pig.
There is the Peak Downs Community Hall (built 1963).
There is the historic Railway Station with the unique ventilated roof trusses.
There are the painted poles - see what fun you can have discovering the story of every one.
At night, for a laugh, you can go down to the petrol station and sit with the mannequins - who needs Fashion Week when you have this?
The shopping in Capella is fabulous - it is so rich and diverse they give you Saturday afternoon and Sunday off from the shops to recover. There is not only one shop, but three shops, a bank and even a Post Office. It's a good thing they all close at 5:30 or I would have spent my entire site allowance by now.
On Friday I walked down to the petrol station and splurged on a packet of chewing gum and two bottles of ginger beer. Saturday night I was more adventurous - I walked all the way down to the Post Office, and stopped at both the closed newsagent and the market to check their winter opening times.
I have to wash my work shirts tonight, and will be too busy to go out. However I am looking forward to our hosts' Oat Cuisine - corned beef, chops, chicken drumsticks, spaghetti alla boscaiola.
My, that bain marie looks inviting...I think I will have jelly with my tinned fruit salad tonight - just for a treat.
Monday I might test out the local restaurant scene. Golden Fried Chicken looks like it might give Rockpool some competition (they even have Chiko Rolls).
It's so exciting being a mining company employee. My dizzy, glamorous life takes me all over the world. It seems only weeks ago I was slumming in London: catching the Tube, drinking lattes, eating sushi, shopping at Harvey Nichols...
And here I am, in Capella, pop.730, Queensland, Australia. You can see my room from space (the outside, anyway).
There are lots of things to see and do in Capella.
There is the grain storage shed.
 |
| From 20090516_KME |
There is the Peak Downs Community Hall (built 1963).
There is the historic Railway Station with the unique ventilated roof trusses.
There are the painted poles - see what fun you can have discovering the story of every one.
At night, for a laugh, you can go down to the petrol station and sit with the mannequins - who needs Fashion Week when you have this?
The shopping in Capella is fabulous - it is so rich and diverse they give you Saturday afternoon and Sunday off from the shops to recover. There is not only one shop, but three shops, a bank and even a Post Office. It's a good thing they all close at 5:30 or I would have spent my entire site allowance by now.
On Friday I walked down to the petrol station and splurged on a packet of chewing gum and two bottles of ginger beer. Saturday night I was more adventurous - I walked all the way down to the Post Office, and stopped at both the closed newsagent and the market to check their winter opening times.
I have to wash my work shirts tonight, and will be too busy to go out. However I am looking forward to our hosts' Oat Cuisine - corned beef, chops, chicken drumsticks, spaghetti alla boscaiola.
My, that bain marie looks inviting...I think I will have jelly with my tinned fruit salad tonight - just for a treat.
Monday I might test out the local restaurant scene. Golden Fried Chicken looks like it might give Rockpool some competition (they even have Chiko Rolls).
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
which green - how can I choose?
I shall renovate.
Not counting the bathroom, my little 1930s flat in Mount Lawley has not seen a fresh tin of paint in at least 20 years.
But what colour?
I am leaning toward green.
There are too many greens - Natura, Issey-San, Fresh Lime, White Box, Pale Vellum, Silver Grass, they all appeal...
Monday, February 16, 2009
it never snows in London
"His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead." James Joyce - The Dubliners.
I woke up a week ago to find a gift from Russia in the form of 6 inches of snow on the ground. This is the most it has snowed in London for 18 years, and it's wooonderfullll.
It lasted one beautiful day, though the snowmen lasted a little longer.
Here is how it first appeared - magic Narnia. I found myself scratching at the back of my wardrobe in the hope Mr Tumnus would make me a hot chocolate. Of course, nothing ever remains as sweet and innocent as on first appearance. By the time I was dressed and able (though not willing) to go to work, it turned nasty. I set out desperately smug because I had dragged my hiking boots out of the wardrobe (I had worked out by now Mr Tumnus wasn't coming). "Ha ha", I thought, "I climbed Tongariro in these, what's a bit of snow after that". Smartass. And soreass not long after. Hiking boots no damn good on ice without crampons.
Still, it was pretty, I only fell down twice, and the bruises are mostly faded a week later. The chap in the photo was from Singapore - he probably thought chilled rice noodle was falling from the sky - but he seemed to enjoy it.
The third iteration of the Great London Snow did not involve embarrassing sore bottom incidents. Even better, I got to see Hyde Park the Winter Wonderland - an experience sorely missing from both the actual 2008 and 2007 Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Well worth the bruises, the lack of public transport, and having to go to work when I desperately wanted to release my inner smartass ten-year-old and build Henry Moore's 1967 tribute to WB Yeats out of snow.
I woke up a week ago to find a gift from Russia in the form of 6 inches of snow on the ground. This is the most it has snowed in London for 18 years, and it's wooonderfullll.
It lasted one beautiful day, though the snowmen lasted a little longer.
 |
| 2009-02-02 london_snow |
 |
| 2009-02-02 london_snow_II |
The third iteration of the Great London Snow did not involve embarrassing sore bottom incidents. Even better, I got to see Hyde Park the Winter Wonderland - an experience sorely missing from both the actual 2008 and 2007 Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Well worth the bruises, the lack of public transport, and having to go to work when I desperately wanted to release my inner smartass ten-year-old and build Henry Moore's 1967 tribute to WB Yeats out of snow.
 |
| 2009-02-03 london_snow_III |
Saturday, November 08, 2008
La Grande Randonee - Day 4 - Tremolat - Le Bugue
 |
| 2008-09-19 Tremolat-Le Bugue |
and immediately got lost. This was the morning when we started to discover the occasional tricks and errors in our walking instructions. Arriving at the 12th century church of St Hilaire (we saw the inside last night), we realised that there was no sign of the path markings. Thoughtfully we retraced our steps to the point at which we had left the trail the afternoon before, and soon realised that what we needed was the 12th century nave of the church of St Nicholas.
 |
| From 2008-09-18 Lalinde-Tremolat |
The rest of the afternoon was a slow-motion rollercoaster, as the GR markings led us up vertical limestone goat tracks and back down them again, with the occasional respite as we crossed fields of cows. We were immensely grateful to find ourselves on level ground at Le Bugue, and in the decadent 17th century surroundings of Domaine de la Barde.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
La Grande Randonnee - Day 3 - Afternoon - Mauzac - Tremolat
Our afternoon wandered up and down hills, through oak woods and corn fields. Even though this was the shortest day (allowing for measurement errors and accidental detours), we were very grateful to arrive in Tremolat and find our hotel - Le Vieux Logis.
This beautiful hotel is reputed to be one of the best in the Dordogne - we don't disagree. The only disappointment was that the hotel staff all spoke excellent English and wouldn't let us practise our French.
Our luggage had been magically transported from Lalinde and was waiting for us in our beautiful attic room. L'Occitane bath products, fluffy bathrobes, foot ointment and clean clothes later, it was time for drinks on the terrace. After a glass of Bergerac Sec by the stream, we were ready for dinner.
Based on our last two dinners, our expectations were for good, but modest food. It was something of a surprise to be handed an 8 course tasting menu. The food was extraordinary, matched by superb wines. The middle courses are something of a blur, but I remember a few things like three little cubes of foie gras pate with different fruit jellies on top, foie gras creme caramel on the side and strict instructions for eating order. For the responsible people out there horrified that anyone could eat foie gras - it was the only time, I swear, it was a tiny amount, the goose was happy, and I had to know what the fuss was about. Then there was a perfectly grilled sea bass with a seaweed-scented foam, a tender magret de canard and, the CHEESE...
The waiter brought an enormous platter of cheese to the table - there must have been at least 15 different sheep, goat and cow cheeses on offer. I managed to restrain myself and not try all 15, but it was a challenge. This was followed by 3 different desserts. We barely made it up the stairs to bed.
 |
| The hotel garden |
Our luggage had been magically transported from Lalinde and was waiting for us in our beautiful attic room. L'Occitane bath products, fluffy bathrobes, foot ointment and clean clothes later, it was time for drinks on the terrace. After a glass of Bergerac Sec by the stream, we were ready for dinner.
Based on our last two dinners, our expectations were for good, but modest food. It was something of a surprise to be handed an 8 course tasting menu. The food was extraordinary, matched by superb wines. The middle courses are something of a blur, but I remember a few things like three little cubes of foie gras pate with different fruit jellies on top, foie gras creme caramel on the side and strict instructions for eating order. For the responsible people out there horrified that anyone could eat foie gras - it was the only time, I swear, it was a tiny amount, the goose was happy, and I had to know what the fuss was about. Then there was a perfectly grilled sea bass with a seaweed-scented foam, a tender magret de canard and, the CHEESE...
The waiter brought an enormous platter of cheese to the table - there must have been at least 15 different sheep, goat and cow cheeses on offer. I managed to restrain myself and not try all 15, but it was a challenge. This was followed by 3 different desserts. We barely made it up the stairs to bed.
 |
| Our room |
Saturday, October 18, 2008
La Grande Randonnee - Day 3 - Morning - Lalinde - Mauzac
 |
well, this was it, the start of our walk. We jumped out of bed (only slightly slowed by last night's cheese), ready to throw open the shutters and greet the French sunshine.It was raining (of course).This was the moment that I realised that despite having brought 3 raincoats, a rain poncho and two umbrellas to London, I had carried none of them across the Channel.
Oh well, we had just enough time before our taxi arrived to find a sports store, remedy the deficit and buy a map.
Our taxi arrived just in time, driven by a charming lady who I swear was either wearing an original Chanel suit, or a very good imitation. She explained that she was only driving the taxi for the day, but didn't explain further. We chatted happily in somewhat broken French on the 45 minute drive to Lalinde.
We arrived under the dripping plane trees of the town square and pulled out our maps and guides to work out where to go. First items on the agenda - find something for lunch and a public toilet.
Finding a public toilet was fairly easy. Finding a public toilet that was actually tolerable took a bit longer. Fortunately the robo-toilet has made it to the Dordogne, and we found one a few metres from where we left the taxi after wandering disconsolately around in the rain for a while.Lunch was even easier - cheese! We were bludgeoned into submission by two charming cheese vendors who persuaded us to buy 30€ worth of sheep cheese. It was delicious, and lasted us several days, but every now and again as we walked, I would hear a snort from behind and a muttered "30€ for cheese!".
We finally found our way onto the trail, and spent the rest of the morning walking along a canal toward Mauzac.| This was the first and last flat stretch of ground in the whole walk - obviously planned to lull us into false confidence. |
Mauzac's main attractions were a small hydro power station and a nautical club. We bought bread and tomatoes to go with our cheese, and clambered up the hill on the outside of town to find a lunch spot.The hill was only memorable for a brief sighting of a red squirrel, but the picnic table in a grassy hollow at the top of the hill was a perfect lunch spot.
Next post - the afternoon...
Thursday, October 09, 2008
La Grande Randonnee - Day 2 - Bergerac
 |
| From 2008-09-17 M8_bergerac |
We arrived mid-afternoon after taking the lunchtime train from Bordeaux.
Once you drag your suitcase out of the railway station and along the dog poo-strewn streets to your hotel, dump everything and wander out, Bergerac turns into a beautiful mediaeval town.
Our hotel was pleasant if unremarkable. The tour guide for our walk, Jean Paul, arrived about 6:00pm to give us a briefing. He insisted in going through the itinerary and the maps for all 6 days - pointing out those features that were very nice, those that were dangerous (but not too dangerous), and the various chateaux that we must be sure to see along the way. There seemed to be rather a lot of them...
I must admit my eyes glazed over about day four and chateau seven - that may explain the number of times we had to stop to check the map as time went on. The itinerary generally followed grande-randonnee #6 from Lalinde to Sarlat - it soon became obvious the first purchase of the morning would have to be a proper map.
After much friendly conversation and effusive best wishes, Jean Paul took his leave - not before selecting our restaurant for dinner for us. Fortunately the restaurant, Le Saint Jacques , was excellent. It was run by a cheerful Dutch family, who had a lot of fun seeing who could make jokes in the most languages. This evening, unfortunately, was also the start of a gluttonous week of cheese and cholesterol which we are still trying to overcome with soy milk and clean living.
Tomorrow, the start of our walk...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
La Grande Randonnée - Day 1 - Bordeaux and the Getting There
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| 2008-09-16 Bordeaux |
Bordeaux knocks Bath off its perch for beauty and charm, not to mention much better food. We also score another tick on the World Heritage list.
We arrived in Bordeaux about 17:00, and enjoyed a couple of hours strolling around the 18th century town before dark. We had dinner at a little cafe across from the hotel. As it was our first night in France we opted for the Perigordais specialities of foie gras and magret de canard. Little did we know how tired we would be of anything made from duck or goose by the end of the week.
We stayed at the Amarys Royal St Jean, which was right across from the train station, very pleasant and good value.
The next morning we discovered that SNCF does not approve of credit cards without chips, and punishes foreigners by making them queue to buy train tickets from a real person. Fortunately we decided to buy train tickets before lunch rather than after, so this was not in fact a disaster. Next stop - Bergerac.
Friday, September 12, 2008
an incendiary week
I don't know what is wrong with London this week. Despite my doom-laden prediction in the last blog, the Whole Foods Market did not burn down (though there was a distinct smell of smoke).
However London's Burning may be more than just a song by the Clash.
This week the London Stock Exchange fell over, there was a tram and bus crash in Croydon, all the bus drivers are out on strike, the Tube upgrade blew out by a couple more billion pounds, yet another budget travel company went under and stranded 200,000 people, and yesterday afternoon, the Channel Tunnel caught fire! It's not looking good for the weekend.
I personally blame the switching on of the Large Hadron Collider in CERN. It has obviously created a wave of malfunctioning reality to ripple across Europe.
None of this would normally bother me, except...we are supposed to be catching Eurostar to Paris on Tuesday to go on holiday.
Never fear, Plan B (refundable air tickets to Bordeaux) is already booked.
However London's Burning may be more than just a song by the Clash.
This week the London Stock Exchange fell over, there was a tram and bus crash in Croydon, all the bus drivers are out on strike, the Tube upgrade blew out by a couple more billion pounds, yet another budget travel company went under and stranded 200,000 people, and yesterday afternoon, the Channel Tunnel caught fire! It's not looking good for the weekend.
I personally blame the switching on of the Large Hadron Collider in CERN. It has obviously created a wave of malfunctioning reality to ripple across Europe.
None of this would normally bother me, except...we are supposed to be catching Eurostar to Paris on Tuesday to go on holiday.
Never fear, Plan B (refundable air tickets to Bordeaux) is already booked.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Hotel troubles in Montreal (C23)
It's country #23 - Canada. By the rules of the country game, describing Montreal as part of Canada may be challenged. Many would vigorously defend the right of Quebec to be distinct from Canada. This includes many Quebecois who will be shuddering at my lack of accents (it's just too hard to find them on an English keyboard).
I spent this week at a putative 5-star hotel that shall be nameless to protect the staff. Now I'm sure on a good week this well-known and respected Montreal landmark would live up to expectations and deliver a fine and satisfying service. Unfortunately they seem somehow to have misstepped in the Canadian industrial relations system.
When I arrived, all seemed calm except for a polite notice that suggested some union action might occur. Certainly things seemed normal enough that evening - the bar and restaurants were open, all the staff seemed to be there. Over the next 3 days things grew steadily odder. Staff disappeared, my room was no longer cleaned, the health club closed, the remaining staff turned up in shorts and T-shirts, all pretence of service was abandoned. Sunday morning a fire alarm at 7:30 brought the few remaining hotel guests out into the street in their dressing gowns and jarmies to stand around outside the lobby and watch the fun. The fire engines arrived in less than 5 minutes, and there was much busy to-ing and fro-ing before the all-clear was sounded. Thank goodness it wasn't a real fire. The lack of visible fire wardens, defined muster point or crowd control would have meant victims for sure. Canadian safety procedures? Unionised malice? I'll never know.
Just half an hour ago, two housekeeping staff appeared at my door. A more trusting person might have been overjoyed that they had finally come to make up the room - it had been 2 days out of 4. Unfortunately they seemed only to want to take away all the minibar biscuits, chocolates and other over-priced goodies you are only ever tempted to eat after room service closes for the night. I would have just assumed they were bringing fresher versions, or that the guests' pilfering had reached unacceptable levels, if they had not invited me to help myself from the collection on the way out. Canadian hospitality? Unionised malice? I'll never know.
On my last morning, after a week of bemusedly watching a 5-star hotel implode on itself, I decided it was time to be assertive. I marched up to the front desk:
"I would like a 6:00pm checkout please"
"That will cost you an extra day"
Using my best Jedi hand-wave - "It will not cost me anything more".
The receptionist looked at me blankly for a moment, disappeared into a back room and returned a minute later.
"No problem, 6:00 it is".
Bouyed with confidence in my mind-control technique, when I came back at 6:00, I managed to get another night free for the inconvenience.
At least the weather was warm and sunny, there were lots of cheap and cheerful restaurants to choose from, and I had fun shopping.
Back in London now. The fire engines were piling up outside my favourite market yesterday, and I'm off to see if it burnt down while I was sleeping.
Avebury & Lacock (LW04, WH0373)
London Walks again came through on walk #4 (see the list of London Walks). In an eerie coincidence, they offered a day trip to Avebury and Lacock on the very day I was struggling to figure out a means of getting there by public transport. As usual, the cost was low, the organisation flawless and the guide whimsical. Lots has been written about Avebury, so I am not going to be boring and repeat it all.The best book I have found on Avebury is "Prehistoric Avebury" by Aubrey Burl. I also read "Hengeworld" by Mike Pitts. Though this had lots of interesting content, the writing style was a bit breathless and incoherent. Here are some interesting links:
This doesn't rate as a new World Heritage site on the tick-off list because I have already been to Stonehenge (WH0373). However, it is huge, and wonderful, and I will go back one day and spend more than a couple of hours.
Lacock is a tiny gem of a village in deepest darkest Wiltshire. When not swamped by film crews, it is sleepy and peaceful. It may be the last living village in England with a Post Office and general store (and no Tesco's).
Thursday, August 21, 2008
photographic fame at last
Was in Trafalgar Square on Sunday after visiting the National Gallery. I am trying to tick off every painting in "1001 Paintings to See Before You Die", but it's going a bit slowly.
On my way back to the Embankment Tube station I stopped to watch the crowds watching the Olympics on the big screen.
One of my pictures (<---) even made it onto the BBC website this week. They said:
"Thanks for your photo of the crowds at Trafalgar Square, it's just what we are looking for and we've used it in our gallery of audience photographs"
http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/olympics/7565307.stm
it's somewhere in the above gallery - you may need to look at a few of other peoples' photographs before you find it.
On my way back to the Embankment Tube station I stopped to watch the crowds watching the Olympics on the big screen.
One of my pictures (<---) even made it onto the BBC website this week. They said:"Thanks for your photo of the crowds at Trafalgar Square, it's just what we are looking for and we've used it in our gallery of audience photographs"
http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/olympics/7565307.stm
it's somewhere in the above gallery - you may need to look at a few of other peoples' photographs before you find it.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Ishmaelia mon amour
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| 20080706_C |
Early July, I found myself back in Ishmaelia (aka Guinea, aka country #21). After my disappointing encounter with country #22, and my failure to leave the grounds of the hotel on my last visit here, my expectations of this African experience were low.
I was also travelling for work. I think it may be a supplementary rule of the country game that you are allowed to be as negative and sarcastic as you like if your employer is paying for the trip (unless of course you work for a tour company).
If you are holidaying or otherwise there at your own behest, you always feel the need to defend the choice - "such an interesting experience", "dysentery is such a quick way to lose weight", "the foul sliminess of the local currency really discourages you from over-spending", and so on.
However, I strangely enjoyed myself. As one or two old Africa hands have said to me - either you hate the place or it sneaks up and grabs you by the heart. I can't see myself living in Guinea - for climate reasons alone (loathe the tropics) - but it is growing on me. Its mad, baroque complexity is oddly fascinating, the people are charming and dignified, and once you get out of the urban renewal target that is the capital and into the countryside, it is lushly beautiful. No timetables or guarantees, but looking forward to the next trip back.
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