Travel – Page 46 – a sibilant intake of breath

Ireland accommodation partly booked

The Lonely Planet Guide to Dublin strongly recommended pre-booking a hostel if traveling during the peak season. It would indeed be quite a pain to show up and have to tramp around for hours with all my stuff, looking for somewhere to stay.

As such, I have booked my first four nights (Wednesday to Saturday) and my last night (Tuesday) at a hostel they heartily endorse: Isaac’s Hostel. While it’s not the cheapest place (16 Euros for a bed in an eight-bed room), the guidebook says it has the best atmosphere of any hostel in town. Some online reviewers have been far less kind, however. My authoritative determination will find its way to the blog soon enough.

The plan, then, is to do any day trips between Sunday August 20th and Tuesday morning. Picking those out, I will need to do later, for the fish paper beckons.

Scotland in July; Ireland in August

I decided to bite the bullet and book my second trip of the summer. Between the 16th of August and the 23rd, I will be in Dublin. I will be leaving on the day after my third August tutorial with the St. Hugh’s Summer School. It promises to be an exciting trip, as well as one that will further flesh out my familiarity with the British Isles as a whole. I must make a point of visiting Wales before I leave next year.

Naturally, I am looking for advice from people who have been to Dublin. Three major questions arise:

Where would you recommend staying? (Hostels in the £10 per night range are my usual style)
What would you recommend seeing?
Is there anything particularly useful to know about going to Dublin?

I will pick up a Lonely Planet guide to Dublin next time I am in town. Major plans of mine include spending a good number of hours drinking Guinness and reading James Joyce (I have promised Linnea I will give him another try). Which of his books would people consider to be the most appropriate to read while in this city?

Including the £5 surcharge for checked luggage, my return ticket with Ryanair from London Gatwick to Dublin came to just under £50, including taxes (£40 of the £50). I will probably have to pay a substantial portion of that amount to get the coach from Oxford to the airport and back, but it’s still a pretty good deal for travel. In fact, it is substantially less than I paid to fly to Tallinn in December. Even the ferry from Tallinn to Helsinki cost a comparable amount.

PS. I am considering going to Prague in September, if I don’t end up planning a trip to Amsterdam with Claire, after her return from New York. The biggest downside of Prague is that I have been there several times already. The biggest upsides are that it is a place I know to be pleasant, and where I can stay with family for free.

PPS. To my surprise, Wikipedia informs me that: “Guinness is not suitable for vegans and vegetarians due to the use of a fish based fining agent called isinglass.” The basis of my vegetarianism lies in concern for animal welfare, concerns about hygenic practices, and concerns about sustainability. It is flexible enough to allow me to consume Guinness.

Knowing basic stats is not good enough for card games

Many thanks to Nora and Kelly for an excellent dinner at their new flat: across the Folly Bridge from St. Aldates’. Afterwards, along with Bryn, we played a number of hands of Spades – a game with which I was previously entirely unfamiliar. It strikes me as inevitably highly statistical. There is a set probability to every 13 card hand, moderated through the scoring system. On the basis of limited information from a partner, you must play many iterations of a supergame, based on a defined collection of possible outcomes for each game, with appropriate scoring attached. The objective is to acquire points at a higher rate than the other team, until a certain threshold is crossed.

Two major kinds of decisions exist in the game: bidding decisions, and the decision of which card to play. Both are fundamentally strategic, though the first is based on a combination of the probability of your hand, in certain important ways, and on the rules related to winning or losing any one iteration (13 tricks). The second is based on similar probabilities, plus knowledge about previous hands (card counting), plus rules about winning tricks. While I could understand the general dynamics involved, I had neither the concentration to count cards, nor the insight to begin comprehending the emergent properties of the rule set. There are some rules, like the special set associated with nil bids, that add considerable extra complexity to the game, at least as comprehended by a somewhat addled beginner’s mind. Even so, it was fun to play, and I appreciate my fellow players for introducing it.

With a certain perverse logic, I take pride in the fact that Spades is probably a game that can be played as well by a computer as by the best human. Since it’s a collection of computable problems, it seems as though a collection of RAM and transistors should set the bar which the best humans approach. Since we define the ‘real’ difficulty of problems according to the amount of challenge they present to all available resources, and since computers can be programmed by relatively inexperienced statisticians, Spades can be branded as a less-than-enormously-complex game, even by someone completely inept at it. Isn’t rationalization amazing? I suppose when we’re just one century’s worth of random collection of molecules (if we are quite lucky), we need some logical path to not get overwhelmed with our own limitations.

PS. From all I have heard, the Arctic Monkies are an unusually talented new band (I can see all those more clued-in on the music scene laughing at me for saying it. Why not say: “I think this Led Zeppelin group has some ability?”). Trying to keep up with a dozen dozen different areas of human involvement, I cannot be at the crest of every wave. All that said “When the Sun Goes Down” is surprisingly melodic, despite somewhat a somewhat abrasive chorus.

PPS. It looks like I may have three new tutorial students over the first three weeks of August. I am thinking of going to Dublin for the fourth week, then flying straight from there to Prague for the first week of September. It would save me all the cost and bother of coach travel from Oxford to London to random-airport-for-cheap-airlines.

Scotland prep: boots and midges

Whenever I mention the upcoming Scotland hiking trip, talk rapidly turns to the Scottish Highland Midge (Culicoides Impunctatus). From everything I have read, the end of July is definitely high season for midges, and these aggressive creatures can be maddening. Does anyone have experience with dealing with these insects? I plan to equip myself with high DEET spray before I leave, though I am of two minds about the wisdom of purchasing an actual midge net. Supposedly, their concentrations vary a great deal by region. Our plan is as follows:

[W]e’re camping at Shiel Bridge (grid reference NG 938 186) (rather than near Invergarry as originally planned). This should be a wonderful base, located between Loch Duich, leading out towards Loch Alsh and the Isle of Skye, and Glen Shiel, site of the Battle of Glen Shiel in 1719. Glen Shiel itself is lined with Munros, including some of the finest hills in the Western Highlands. These include the classic Five Sisters of Kintail and the South Shiel Ridge, so we’ll be spoilt for choice!

In spite of anticipated midge problems, I am very excited about this trip. I’ve been wearing my hiking boots all day, with the aim of re-acclimatizing to them after a year in trainers. A great deal of joy can be extracted from torsional rigidity and ankle support. Despite being ankle-high, my boots are actually cooler feeling than my trainers. The people at MEC knew what they were talking about when they said that Gore-Tex shoes, while good in the wet, become excessively hot fairly easily.

PS. I will post a conversion of the coords above to UTM or DMS as soon as I can find a script that will deal with the UK grid.

[Update]: Converting from UK national grid to anything else is a huge pain. Not only does it have its own zero coordinates and uniquely sized zones, but it is based on a different datum from more familiar coordinate systems. You can read all about it, if you like.

UTM Coords: (30 V) E0337948 N6359854
Deg DeciMin N57.211605 W005.416130
Map and Perspective View

Quick London summary

Happy Birthday Nora Harris

Today’s trip to London was very successful: I got to spend time with Sarah for the first time since her wedding, I saw a large number of new Kandinsky paintings at the Tate Modern exhibition (including the spectacular Composition VI), I saw the Haitian film Heading South at an arty theatre in Soho, and had a number of tasty meals. Meeting Sarah’s husband Peter for the third time, as well as her father again, was also excellent.

Sarah and I saw some of the artwork at Somerset House: another London institution that I had previously known nothing about that turns out to be well-stocked with Gauguin, Matisse, Picasso, and such. They even had a respectable collection of Kandinsky paintings – organized in an identical thematic fashion to the Tate Modern exhibition.

I had seen Kandinsky’s work first-hand before: in New York in 2003, both at the Guggenheim and at the Museum of Modern Art. Of course, their new location had not yet opened at that point, so they were only showing a limited assortment out in Queens. By comparison, the Tate Modern exhibition was a much more comprehensive look into the progression of his work. Of all the paintings there, the massive canvas of Composition VI was most interesting and compelling. I urge people not to search for it online, because on the basis of my previous viewings of it as some little JPEG file, I can assure you that it cannot be understood in that format. You need to see the wall-sized painting to have any comprehension of it at all.

While the trip really deserves more ample description, it is 2:00am. I will do so soon.

Going to Scotland

The first tutorial for the St. Hugh’s summer program has passed. While it wouldn’t be appropriate to discuss here, I can say that leading it was a learning experience for me, as well. Being on the other side of any such asymmetry is always uncanny.

In an exciting development, it seems that I am going hiking and camping in Scotland from the 27th to the 31st of this month, with the Oxford Walking Club. We are going to the western Highlands, to Faichem Park near Invergarry. We will spend three days walking in the Loch Quoich and Blen Shiel area. Some of the mountains there are 1100m high, a bit more than Grouse Mountain and Mount Fromme, back in North Vancouver. I am meeting the trip leader to deliver payment and a participant form in less than an hour.

Ever since watching the documentary where former Pythons revisit the places where Holy Grail was filmed, I have really wanted to go to Scotland. I promise to do my utmost to bring back some interesting photos: both using my increasingly ailing digicam and using the Fuji Velvia that Tristan so generously sent me.

[Update] Moments after paying the £80 for the trip, a serious difficulty arose. The club absolutely requires proper hiking boots for this trip. That’s fair enough, but mine are in Vancouver. The options, therefore, are:

Have my boots shipped from Canada
Buy boots here
Cancel the trip

Boots here, like everything else, are markedly more expensive than in Canada, and the ones I have in Vancouver are quite good. I do need to have them by the 26th of this month, but that leaves three entire weeks. Having them sent would mean digging them out from wherever in my big array of boxes of stuff left behind they are, plus paying postage. That said, I could use them for subsequent trips, it would almost certainly be cheaper than buying them here, and they are already broken in. Worth investigating.

[Update II] It seems extremely unlikely that my boots weigh more than 2kg – as much as a 2L bottle of soda. Estimating that they would fit in a 12″ by 10″ by 8″ box, they would cost $43.05 to send by Small Packet International Air. That’s about 20% of their original value, and probably about 1/4 of what inferior boots would cost in Oxford. They would cost $68.42 to send by Xpresspost International (with guaranteed four day delivery). Of course, the question of extracting them from whichever 55 gallon plastic box that has become their temporary abode remains.

[Update III: 5 July 2006] My mother has very kindly put my hiking boots into the post. As such, nothing remains between me and the realization of this trip. They should also prove useful when the Summer 2007 Kilimanjaro plan starts really coming together.

Happy Canada Day

Having read a great deal of twentieth century history, I am naturally aware of the dangers of patriotism. Regardless, I think that it can serve a good social purpose when the character is aspirational rather than affirmational. Having an understanding of Canada as a respectable global citizen creates an understanding of interests that furthers that project. I would never claim that Canada has been unfaltering in the application of its ideals – shameful cases relating to the treatment of the First Nations and immigrants exist in close memory – but I would claim that pride rooted in Canadian ideals and in Canada insofar as it achieves those ideals is a good thing.

Last Canada Day, I was in Ottawa with my brother Sasha, my father, and several of my cousins. I remember being fairly exhausted from having spent the previous night at a party thrown by my very good friend Alison Benjamin, who was living in Toronto at the time. While in Ottawa, we played frisbee on the lawn in front of the Parliament buildings. Several times, the disc flew over the four-foot fence, and one of the police officers on the other side would return it to us. At several other times, we were interrupted by an intermittant thunderstorm, which punctuated the day. Thankfully, it did not emerge during the aggressively bilingual Canadian concert, followed, for us, by poutine eaten on the road in front of Parliament, after the fireworks.

Canada Day 2004, I spent traveling back from Italy, where I spent several weeks with Meghan, her sister, and her friend Tish.

The previous Canada Day was my most Canadian ever: I was paddling northward across Dodd Lake, in the rain, with Meghan. In a nearby canoe – the only people nearby for many kilometres – were my father and my brother Mica. This was during the course of the Powell Forest Canoe Circuit, a shorter and much less crowded alternative to the Bowron Lakes Circuit. It is also better provided for with petites grenouilles, though less well stocked with moose.

In any case, to the 33 million Canadians back home and all my fellow Canadians abroad: Vive Le Canada!

To those in Oxford, remember about the party tonight. I already have large amounts of beer and Tegan & Sara recordings at the ready.

That clothe The Weald and reach the sky

Like so much else, the walking trip in The Weald was primarily a good mechanism for meeting new people. All told, fourteen people were part of the expedition. Something about rambling seems to attract people of a scientific or technical bent. I had long conversations during the five hour walk about mettalurgy, the GPS system, the manufacture of large organic molecules for pharmaceuticals, computer programming, fisheries, and the HIV fighting potential of a certain molecule that comes from sea fans. It was definitely a group of people I’d like to spend more time with. One even lent me the new Milan Kundera novel: Immortality.

The walk took place in and around the inspiration for A.A. Milne’s 100 Acre Wood, of Winnie the Pooh fame – though the terrain dates back to the establishment of a hunting park following the Norman Conquest. Marked features were low verdant hills, and idyllic stands of deciduous trees around small creeks. Throughout the hike (and the 2.5 hour minibus trips both ways), the sun was intense enough to make me fear that I will rosy tomorrow, despite the use of sunscreen and my wide-brimmed canoeing hat. I have an obvious watch tan.

Particularly appealing is the prospect of doing a trip to the Lake District with this group. I’ve been told that it’s an essential place to see, and to do so with such an obviously qualified and interesting sect is a welcome thing to contemplate. There is much about fit young scientists that appeals to me. Likewise, places of natural beauty that includes mountains.

After three days of devoted walking in the hot sun, followed by little sleep, my muscles are all clenched up and aching. I may allow myself to sleep in a bit tomorrow, before scrambling to come up with an excuse for Dr. Hurrell, explaining why I don’t have a paper for him. Given that we still have an undiscussed one to cover, he shouldn’t be too harsh on me.

PS. While walking to and from the rendezvous for the hike, I gave my first listen-through to Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. Some of the songs I can already tell are superb.

PPS. Being way too busy to read emails or blog posts is a novel and not entirely unwelcome experience. I feel like I’ve had a miniature vacation, right in the middle of an Oxford term.

London Gallery Tour

The primary focus of my trip to London with Antonia was art galleries. We saw sculpture in Canada House, off Trafalgar Square. We saw paintings in the National Gallery, National Portrait Gallery, and Tate Modern; also, photography in the National Theatre and additional sculpture in other places. Seeing art with a clever and interested fellow observer is wonderful for offsetting the overwhelming character of a place like any of the museums listed above. When that other person is also well versed in historical and mythological iconography, it is even more welcome. When you have dozens of original Dalis, Kandinskys, and Picassos strewn about, it can be hard to maintain focus.

Developing focus in the first place is hard when you need to wake up at 5:45am. As a reward, we were at the British Museum just in time for its opening. Right now, there is a fascinating temporary exhibit on Arabic calligraphy and artwork. Some of the material included is really superb; I especially enjoyed some of the examples where Asiatic kinds of calligraphy and Arabic lettering had been forged into elegant hybrids. Before leaving the British Museum, we also took a guided tour of the Islamic World section, as well as wandering on our own through the North American, Central American (where many of the sculptures have superb facial expression), and ancient British Isles areas. As always, the central atrium – installed sometime before my first visit in 2001 – is a striking piece of artwork in its own right, much like the turbine room in the Tate Modern. I love the elation and sense of safety I feel when enclosed in huge open-air geometric spaces.

After walking through Soho and Chinatown, Antonia and I arrived in Trafalgar Square. After a perfunctory security check, we were allowed into Canada House, though sadly not invited to the wine reception that was being prepared. Instead, I got around to finally registering as a Canadian national living in the UK and we had a look at some of the Canadian stone sculpture that was on display.

I really should dig through all the collected brochures to attach names to these descriptions, but I have neither the time nor the energy just now. Perhaps in future sittings.

Also at Trafalgar Square (aside from a version of Nelson’s column covered with scaffolding for repair, with the scaffolding decorated with sea life as a warning about global warming) are the National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery. At the first, we saw a terrifically frightening dragon that I am hoping Antonia will identify in a comment. All efforts at photography there were quite effectively thwarted. As has generally been the case, the National Portrait Gallery was an illustration of how few British authors, politicians, and public figures I have heard of. They lack a portrait of Douglas Adams: an oversight that really must be rectified.

Between that and the next art viewing (at the National Theatre), we met with two sets of Antonia’s friends – the first a friend from ancient schooldays and the second the kind gentleman who put a roof over my head for the unplanned overnight stay. At the National Theatre, we saw an exhibition of the top photojournalistic images of the year. Some were extremely good – particularly a portrait of Kofi Annan that makes superb use of contrast, composition, and dynamic range. Many were exceptionally gruesome, as I suspect is not unusual for such compositions.

After pizza-walking-sleep-wake-shower, the next day proceeded to the Tate Modern via a picnic. From National Theatre to Antonia’s friend Jong’s house was one long arc with the Gherkin as the central point. The return trip to the Tate Modern was essentially the converse. Since the recent major re-hang, I don’t entirely have my bearings in that fascinating place. As such, every return visit has the feel of rediscovery to it, much as I lament the fact that Hepworth’s Pelagos has been relocated to Cornwall. There, we met another friend of Antonia’s who is on the Tate staff related to planning and executing activities for children and families. A great way to be initiated into such a wonderful collection of art, no doubt.

My thanks to Antonia for the company that was the highlight of the trip, and to Jong who was kind enough to accompany us for a long while, and house us as well.

I would write more, but I need to get to sleep. It’s another 6:00am reveille tomorrow.

Quick London summary

Having just returned from London after one more day than I was planning to spend, I am living in hecticposttriptime. There is much that needs to be done before I leave for The Weald with the Walking Club at 8:00am tomorrow, outside Trinity. The trip with Antonia proved to be very good: we saw quite a collection of galleries and museums, met some of her friends, and generally accessed the city in a very satisfying way. I came back with about five kilos of tofu (bought at an eighth of the Oxford price, in Soho’s Chinatown), two kinds of black bean sauce, and wasabi peas.

Two big and welcome surprises accompanied my return: the discovery that Meghan Mathieson has extremely generously sent me a copy of the new Neko Case CD Fox Confessor Brings the Blues, along with a letter, and the reception of a message from Rosalind that indicates that there has been a miscommunication working against us. While she is only going to be in the country for a few more weeks, tops, there seems to have been a considerable and unexpected reconciliation.

I will post a more thorough write-up, with photos, sometime later tonight.