Inside and Outside
So much for Spring. Here is a photo from my kitchen window. You can't see the hills because they are covered in snow.
There have been changes inside too. New office set-up:
There have been changes inside too. New office set-up:
Spring Cleaning
Well it IS Spring is it not?
I have said goodbye to travel diaries from 1986 (yes, even then!), school jotters from 1989 and earlier, artwork from primary to high school, meticulously completed projects on the Incas, Victorians and Jamaica, exam papers from Hamlet, lecture notes from post-modernism to finance and and countless Christmas cards, birthday cards, exam prep and past expressions of emotion written in printed e-mails, cards, scraps of paper and even the odd napkin or two. I'm a few kilos of baggage lighter but many more years older and hopefully whatever wisdom I've acquired over the years helped me decide what goes back in the box until the next spring clean, what is pure sentiment, and what is sentiment but still worth keeping. Anita and Shirley - you both featured highly through many media in my ransack through time, as did other friendships I've kept across borders. What a journey together! Hopefully some things will never change xx
I have said goodbye to travel diaries from 1986 (yes, even then!), school jotters from 1989 and earlier, artwork from primary to high school, meticulously completed projects on the Incas, Victorians and Jamaica, exam papers from Hamlet, lecture notes from post-modernism to finance and and countless Christmas cards, birthday cards, exam prep and past expressions of emotion written in printed e-mails, cards, scraps of paper and even the odd napkin or two. I'm a few kilos of baggage lighter but many more years older and hopefully whatever wisdom I've acquired over the years helped me decide what goes back in the box until the next spring clean, what is pure sentiment, and what is sentiment but still worth keeping. Anita and Shirley - you both featured highly through many media in my ransack through time, as did other friendships I've kept across borders. What a journey together! Hopefully some things will never change xx
O. Wilde
"I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train." Oscar Wilde
The Search for Paint
Before I think about buying paint again, I was wondering if anyone had any of the following leftover colours they would like to see finished off:
sky blue, lime green, sunflower yellow?
sky blue, lime green, sunflower yellow?
I am the music man...
...I come from far away and I can pla-ay. What can you pla-ay?
Pia-pia-piano! Piano! Piano! Pia-pia-piano! Pia-piano!
I am the music ma-an, I come from far away and I can pla-ay. What can you pla-ay?
Sexy-sexy-saxaophone! Saxophone! Saxophone! Sexy-sexy-saxophone! Sa-a-axophone!
I am the music ma-an, I come from far away and I can pla-ay. What can you pla-ay?
Gue-gue-gue-gue-geeatar! Geeatar! Gue-gue-gue-gue-gue-a-tar! Gue-ee-ee-a-tar!
I am the music ma-an I come from far away and I can play. What can you play?
Ce-ce-ce-ce-ce-llo! Cello! Cello! Ce-ce-ce-ce-ce-llo! Ce-e-e-ello!*
I am the music ma-an, I come from far away and I can play. What can you pla-ay?
Well.........
DR-DR-DR-DR-DRU-U-UMS! DRUMS! DRUMS! DR-DR-DR-DR-DRU-UMS! DRU-U-U-UMS!
WHAT? Really? I hear you cry.
Why yes dear rockers. I had my first drum lesson yesterday. And it's now very very clear to me that different parts of the brain are engaged when researching aquaculture trade compared to banging that bass, slapping the snare, hitting the high-hat and crashing the cymbal, but you probably don't need three guesses to work out which one is also the more fun ;-). Lady Gaga's 'Just Dance' (played very loud) was the first singer I played backing drums to and I was hooked.
* This does not of course in any way imply proficiency, despite having constant access to the piano and immediate access to a cello and flute. I can also play the recorder and blow a tin whistle but, well, who can't?
Pia-pia-piano! Piano! Piano! Pia-pia-piano! Pia-piano!
I am the music ma-an, I come from far away and I can pla-ay. What can you pla-ay?
Sexy-sexy-saxaophone! Saxophone! Saxophone! Sexy-sexy-saxophone! Sa-a-axophone!
I am the music ma-an, I come from far away and I can pla-ay. What can you pla-ay?
Gue-gue-gue-gue-geeatar! Geeatar! Gue-gue-gue-gue-gue-a-tar! Gue-ee-ee-a-tar!
I am the music ma-an I come from far away and I can play. What can you play?
Ce-ce-ce-ce-ce-llo! Cello! Cello! Ce-ce-ce-ce-ce-llo! Ce-e-e-ello!*
I am the music ma-an, I come from far away and I can play. What can you pla-ay?
Well.........
DR-DR-DR-DR-DRU-U-UMS! DRUMS! DRUMS! DR-DR-DR-DR-DRU-UMS! DRU-U-U-UMS!
WHAT? Really? I hear you cry.
Why yes dear rockers. I had my first drum lesson yesterday. And it's now very very clear to me that different parts of the brain are engaged when researching aquaculture trade compared to banging that bass, slapping the snare, hitting the high-hat and crashing the cymbal, but you probably don't need three guesses to work out which one is also the more fun ;-). Lady Gaga's 'Just Dance' (played very loud) was the first singer I played backing drums to and I was hooked.
* This does not of course in any way imply proficiency, despite having constant access to the piano and immediate access to a cello and flute. I can also play the recorder and blow a tin whistle but, well, who can't?
Who Is My Neighbour?
Ever since my friend told me about the coffee and cake afternoon she did in order to get to know her neighbours a bit better, I've thought about how best to do something similar. It seems odd to be able to see into their kitchens and return their bins at the same time as mine without really knowing who they are.But I've come to the problem of trying to work out who exactly is my neighbour? In the little diagram I've made up, you can see my house marked with the number 16. It seems clear that those immediately around me are definitely my neighbours, but what about the house directly opposite marked in red? They are physically closer to me than the houses in my cul-de-sac (marked in blue) And if I invite red, do I have to invite orange in case orange finds out I invited red and not them? Purple have been accepting my deliveries for months whenever I've been out so they can come. But what about the distant green and opposing blue?
And do I want them all to see inside my house?
Bikeathon
'Turn Right at the Yellow Porno Sign'. It was an unusual method of giving me directions, but it worked. In Denmark, while prostitution is legal, operating a brothel or pimping is not, and neither is running a sex-shop. Interestingly, there is an ongoing political debate in Denmark regarding whether to make paying for sex illegal, as is currently the case in Sweden. Sweden considers prostitution a form of violence against women so the crime occurs when a customer pays for sex, not the fact that the prostitute is selling sexual services. Essentially, the law makes it illegal to pay for sex (i.e. the client commits the crime), but not to be a prostitute. At the time Sweden adopted the law in 1999 it was unique. Since then, a similar law has been adopted by Norway and Iceland, and now maybe it's Denmark's turn.But prostitution is not what I wanted to talk about at all. It's all about the bikes. Or rather the bike friendly city that is Copenhagen. This is a place where cars are kept separate from bicycles, where bicycles have lanes almost wide enough to fit a car, and where their über cool sou'wester flannel 'helmets' (really hard hats) are a fashion accessory.
The map above shows the 15km of biking I did the other day as I moved from meeting to meeting. But because everyone bikes, everyone pitches up with dripping noses, mega snow boots and waterproof jackets, and hosts always provide a pot of hot tea to welcome you. What a civilised society.
The Value of Tea
I am here in Denmark in order to work with leading experts on Global Value Chain analysis. [If you want to find out what that is, why it is useful and how it relates to development policy then follow this link: http://www.diis.dk/sw65384.asp]. Value Chain analysis has been applied to coffee, cut flowers, even wine, and now we are starting on fish. But having seen the store cupboard at the Institute there is only one possible conclusion regarding value chains for tea and tea consumption amongst the academics here: it is high and it is varied. An entire wall of their walk-in pens+paper cupboard is full of every conceivable type of black, green, red, white and blue tea going. And judging by my evidence-based research, it facilitates production. These guys may drink lots of tea, but they also work really really hard and I'm finding myself falling into the same trap ;-). Thankfully I return to Scotland on Friday, where both tea consumption and work production are a little more balanced (read: tea is for taking a break).
Be nice
Be nice
Think happy thoughts
Champion silver linings
Love all things (and not just cute things like babies and kittens)
& when you do love - love like they do in power ballads
(you know like on a cliff with the wind in your hair & your eyes shut, knowing you'll never know another love like this)
Watch out for dogpoo
Smile at people - even grumpy ones
Be nice (oh I already said that)
Remember that anything is possible
& whatever you do
Always try to
look on
the bright side
www.reallygood.uk.com
Think happy thoughts
Champion silver linings
Love all things (and not just cute things like babies and kittens)
& when you do love - love like they do in power ballads
(you know like on a cliff with the wind in your hair & your eyes shut, knowing you'll never know another love like this)
Watch out for dogpoo
Smile at people - even grumpy ones
Be nice (oh I already said that)
Remember that anything is possible
& whatever you do
Always try to
look on
the bright side
www.reallygood.uk.com
Work Package 8 meets Work Package 5
The result of our coordination meetings (ahem, dinner, breakfast, lunch - in that order) between Work Package 8 (Norwegians - also financers of birthday meal) and Work Package 5 (champagne guzzling, birthday celebrating): One Big Happy (Hungover) Family
The nicest people on the planet?
Every time I meet Norwegians I have F U N. If you are looking for a nationality to spend your birthday with, look no further (and their oil money smooths the path too ;-)).
4 on the 4th
When I was 4 on the 4th I was in Cyprus. Since then I have celebrated birthdays in Germany, Scotland, England, Belgium, France, New Zealand, Malaysia and now Denmark. Next year's location is still up for grabs. So far it is 'somewhere in Asia'.....
What goes around, comes around
It's the dumbest thing I've seen so far in Denmark. It's a breathtaking, 320-foot, ellipse-shaped pool called "The Sea," with smaller pools around it where families and children play. In the center of the big pool, a rectangular platform rises up hydraulically to become a dance floor on Saturday nights. The area is candlelit, and massages and dinner are offered poolside to the soothing strains of live flute music. As I attempted to swim elliptical laps (not as easy as it sounds) alongside unfrantic Danes of all ages, I could watch divers silently hitting the water in a diving tank with a floor-to-ceiling glass window along one side of the pool.
Not the right pool for attempting backstroke in.
The Little Mermaid
The Danes seem to be quite a 'huggy' lot. I always thought they were rather cold and icy (much like their current weather), but it turns out that at any opportunity they will throw a hug your way. That's why yesterday when I found myself at the Institute for my first day of work, I ended up spearing my supervisor in the stomach with my oustretched hand while he came in over the top in a swooping bear-hug manouevre.
But the opportunity to get up close and personal extends to other areas of life too. Last night I discovered The Danish Swimming Pool. Swimming pools are always a bit hit and miss when you are abroad, even if you do speak the language. They often have hidden yet complex codes regarding outdoor footwear hygiene and those attractive blue plastic slippers, swim caps, passwords for lockers, bring your own lock for lockers, the right money for lockers or whatever it might be. But this, this I had never seen before. Or rather, I'd never seen so much of it before.
I mean nakedness.
This is Denmark, so maybe my expectations were all wrong, but even in France it is normal to get undressed and then put your swimsuit on. In some countries this whole process is conducted in the open while in others, like Britain, you get your own little cubicle. Being in the open didn't bother me, but nobody else was putting their swimsuit on, and that definitely bothered me.
Is there a separate pool for women? Does everyone just swim naked?
I decided to keep mine on anyway and made my way to the showers where things started to become clearer, although perhaps I wish they weren't QUITE so clear if you know what I mean. It turns out that everyone walks to the shower starkers clutching their swimming cossie and towel. They then take a shower, being sure to thoroughly cleanse themselves. For this purpose there are precise instructions provided via the helpful use of diagrams stuck to the wall to show exactly which unhygienic bits you should be washing, and opposite the showers an entire wall of mirrors. Little red circles on the diagrams point out the 'problem areas' requiring particular attention. After which it is common practice to wash your bathers in the shower and put them on. I don't know about you, but putting on a wet swimsuit leaves most of it bunched around my hips with the straps elongated and clinging to my chest.
All I know is that with all that cleansing, Danish swimming pools must be some of the cleanest around. Not that they are taking any chances: the thing is stuffed full of chlorine and also had a peculiar salt-water like buoyancy.
Then everything must be done in reverse, although somehow you are meant to 'Dry yourself before exiting shower area' which is rather tricky when your towel and shampoo are in your locker. I was accompanied for most of my learning experience by some young males. Most were under the age of 10 but it seems quite acceptable for the boys to stick with the mums and not the men (I wonder what the cut-off point is?). Not that they looked. They've obviously seen more bums and boobs by the time they go to kindergarten than the average English gentleman will see in his lifetime.
I'll know for next time I suppose. And the biggest reason why I know there will be a next time? Like any good Scandinavian country: the free Sauna.
But the opportunity to get up close and personal extends to other areas of life too. Last night I discovered The Danish Swimming Pool. Swimming pools are always a bit hit and miss when you are abroad, even if you do speak the language. They often have hidden yet complex codes regarding outdoor footwear hygiene and those attractive blue plastic slippers, swim caps, passwords for lockers, bring your own lock for lockers, the right money for lockers or whatever it might be. But this, this I had never seen before. Or rather, I'd never seen so much of it before.
I mean nakedness.
This is Denmark, so maybe my expectations were all wrong, but even in France it is normal to get undressed and then put your swimsuit on. In some countries this whole process is conducted in the open while in others, like Britain, you get your own little cubicle. Being in the open didn't bother me, but nobody else was putting their swimsuit on, and that definitely bothered me.
Is there a separate pool for women? Does everyone just swim naked?
I decided to keep mine on anyway and made my way to the showers where things started to become clearer, although perhaps I wish they weren't QUITE so clear if you know what I mean. It turns out that everyone walks to the shower starkers clutching their swimming cossie and towel. They then take a shower, being sure to thoroughly cleanse themselves. For this purpose there are precise instructions provided via the helpful use of diagrams stuck to the wall to show exactly which unhygienic bits you should be washing, and opposite the showers an entire wall of mirrors. Little red circles on the diagrams point out the 'problem areas' requiring particular attention. After which it is common practice to wash your bathers in the shower and put them on. I don't know about you, but putting on a wet swimsuit leaves most of it bunched around my hips with the straps elongated and clinging to my chest.
All I know is that with all that cleansing, Danish swimming pools must be some of the cleanest around. Not that they are taking any chances: the thing is stuffed full of chlorine and also had a peculiar salt-water like buoyancy.
Then everything must be done in reverse, although somehow you are meant to 'Dry yourself before exiting shower area' which is rather tricky when your towel and shampoo are in your locker. I was accompanied for most of my learning experience by some young males. Most were under the age of 10 but it seems quite acceptable for the boys to stick with the mums and not the men (I wonder what the cut-off point is?). Not that they looked. They've obviously seen more bums and boobs by the time they go to kindergarten than the average English gentleman will see in his lifetime.
I'll know for next time I suppose. And the biggest reason why I know there will be a next time? Like any good Scandinavian country: the free Sauna.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
Today, Fingerling got expelled for the first time. From the garderie. I got a phone call at 17h telling me that the doctor had rev...
-
The Airbus A300-600ST (Super Transporter) is a wide-bodied aircraft modified to carry aircraft parts or over-sized and awkward cargo. Airbu... -
No fireworks. No bonfires. Can't even get my hands on sparklers this year (actually, couldn't last year either and then I had no e...