Douglas Adams famously predicted that civilisation would end when every store was a shoe-shop. This happens because competition between shoe manufacturers drives down price, which lowers quality. As shoes last for less time, people need to buy shoes more often, and so more shoe shops are built to fill the demand. This in turn increases competition, which drives down price, which lowers quality, which increases demand, and so on.
This prediction is in fact perfectly correct and is happening right now in England, with minor detail changed: Not shoe shops, but mobile telephone shops.
Every single shopping district I have seen has at least five mobile telephone shops. At a minimum, there will be O2, 3, T-Mobile, Vodaphone and Carphone Warehouse. There is also likely to be a Phones4U and some others I can't think of. You seriously can't throw a stone in a shopping district without smashing the glass at the front of a phone shop.
However, it seems competition has not yet driven price down to the point where they will sell me a phone on reasonable terms. I went into one today. Asked to sign up a phone on an 18 month contract. Explained that I was newly in the country. Now they want me to pay £9 a month for the handset, and £15 a month for the service, all this for 18 months. It sounds to me like a license to print money. Nonetheless, they have to run a credit check first. Why? I asked. Because we're offering you credit, came the reply. I wanted to scream, No you're bloody not, you're asking me to fork over fistfuls of cash, but thought better of it. They ran the credit check and, of course, I have no credit history here. So, what can they do for me? They can sign me up for a contract to pay them £24 a month, all right, so long as I'll put down a deposit... of £300. You read right. Three. Hundred. Pounds.
Where do these people get there license to print money? I want one! Admittedly it's only a deposit, which they will pay back after 12 months, but it's still a serious amount of money (about $700 Aussie, for the... erm, Aussies out there).
Sigh. So I guess I'm stuck with my pay-through-the-nose-as-you-go phone. Ah well.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Bath
I've spent today in Bath, and for once I had my camera on me while I was somewhere interesting.
For starters, Bath has narrow, narrow streets. There are a fair number in the old city where they haven't even bothered to upgrade them for cars, because you'd struggle to get most cars down them. This one is an exception, which they haven't upgraded so that they can hold street markets in it:
This street has its very own C.M.O.T. Dibbler (for the Pratchett fans):
As well as street musicians:
And this rather hopeful gentleman, who ducked just that fraction of a second too late when he saw the camera:
Bath has lots of nice churches:
(Sorry about the one on its side there. I can't be bothered dealing with it, you'll just have to turn your heads.)
The second of these had a group of people sitting on the steps smoking something they almost certainly aren't even supposed to possess. When I walked past a few hours later, they'd added some quite large containers of alcohol to the mix. It looked like being quite a party.
Something I've noticed is that I don't think I've seen one beggar or homeless person since I arrived in the country. This could be because I only go to nice bits where the police move such people along, or because they're really not there, or because they've all been kidnapped by aliens. Not sure.'
Bath Abbey has some quite exquisite bits:
Again, apologies for the bits-wot-face-the-wrong-way. The problem is that my camera detects which way up it is being held and marks the image with which way it should be rotated. My photo manager and image editor both also respect this marking, and handle it transparently. Only blogger doesn't realise that the image needs to be rotated.
I saw the baths, and the Pump House (much mentioned in certain novels by Jane Austen):
The word 'Roman' is perhaps a bit misplaced there, as most of the building in fact dates from the 19th century.
Actually this is a trend I have noticed in a lot of 'old' buildings. A lot of churches claim to date from the Xth c, where X is a relativly small number. In fact there are a few bricks or part of a wall that dates from that period; the church was invariably destroyed in the X+3th century, then largely rebuilt in the X+7th century, extensively refurbished in the 19th century and has since had significant work done on it.
Not sure why this guy is still hanging around:
Though it may be worth it, since he seems to get lucky on occasion:
You may have noticed, from the more architectural photos, that the buildings of Bath tend to be a fairly consistent colour. They are all made of local stone, called, inventively enough, Bath Stone. I am told that now any new building in the city has to be faced with Bath Stone, to preserve the look.
It's a lovely stone to have built in, but it gets a bit monotonous after a while. I also have trouble finding anything, because all the buildings look the same.
Anyway, it is getting cold now the sun has gone down, and my laptop battery is about to give up the ghost. Farewell!
For starters, Bath has narrow, narrow streets. There are a fair number in the old city where they haven't even bothered to upgrade them for cars, because you'd struggle to get most cars down them. This one is an exception, which they haven't upgraded so that they can hold street markets in it:
This street has its very own C.M.O.T. Dibbler (for the Pratchett fans):
As well as street musicians:
And this rather hopeful gentleman, who ducked just that fraction of a second too late when he saw the camera:
Bath has lots of nice churches:
(Sorry about the one on its side there. I can't be bothered dealing with it, you'll just have to turn your heads.)
The second of these had a group of people sitting on the steps smoking something they almost certainly aren't even supposed to possess. When I walked past a few hours later, they'd added some quite large containers of alcohol to the mix. It looked like being quite a party.
Something I've noticed is that I don't think I've seen one beggar or homeless person since I arrived in the country. This could be because I only go to nice bits where the police move such people along, or because they're really not there, or because they've all been kidnapped by aliens. Not sure.'
Bath Abbey has some quite exquisite bits:
Again, apologies for the bits-wot-face-the-wrong-way. The problem is that my camera detects which way up it is being held and marks the image with which way it should be rotated. My photo manager and image editor both also respect this marking, and handle it transparently. Only blogger doesn't realise that the image needs to be rotated.
I saw the baths, and the Pump House (much mentioned in certain novels by Jane Austen):
The word 'Roman' is perhaps a bit misplaced there, as most of the building in fact dates from the 19th century.
Actually this is a trend I have noticed in a lot of 'old' buildings. A lot of churches claim to date from the Xth c, where X is a relativly small number. In fact there are a few bricks or part of a wall that dates from that period; the church was invariably destroyed in the X+3th century, then largely rebuilt in the X+7th century, extensively refurbished in the 19th century and has since had significant work done on it.
Not sure why this guy is still hanging around:
Though it may be worth it, since he seems to get lucky on occasion:
You may have noticed, from the more architectural photos, that the buildings of Bath tend to be a fairly consistent colour. They are all made of local stone, called, inventively enough, Bath Stone. I am told that now any new building in the city has to be faced with Bath Stone, to preserve the look.It's a lovely stone to have built in, but it gets a bit monotonous after a while. I also have trouble finding anything, because all the buildings look the same.
Anyway, it is getting cold now the sun has gone down, and my laptop battery is about to give up the ghost. Farewell!
Life
I am sitting in the beer garden of a little pub on the Avon river, just next to a marina full of pleasure barges, with a 'point of bitter' as they say here. England has turned on her sunny best, everything around is green and alive. There is a simply adorable couple two tables over, who are being unbearably cute.
I've been a bit down this week about not having work and my own lack of activity in finding it, but right now, the river is singing, the beer is flowing, the couple have just walked off to find somewhere more private, and life is good.
Or it would be if my internet connection worked a bit more reliably...
I've been a bit down this week about not having work and my own lack of activity in finding it, but right now, the river is singing, the beer is flowing, the couple have just walked off to find somewhere more private, and life is good.
Or it would be if my internet connection worked a bit more reliably...
Fashion
Fashion, as Oscar Wilde remarked, is something so awful that we feel we must change it every six months. There is a distinct difference in fashion between here and Australia, which I didn't really expect.
Now I'm going to let you in on a secret: What with one thing and another, I tend to take rather more notice of women's fashions than men's, as it walks past. There you have it.
Fashion for women is pretty rigid here at present. Tight-fitting, narrow jeans are in in a big way. Combine that with a skivvy or similar that reaches about half-way over the buttocks and a jacket (preferably leather, though others are also common) which comes nearly to the waist, and you have just described two-thirds of the women in London. Calf-high suede boots are an optional, but strongly recommended, extra.
There are, of course, the few die-hards that go out in a miniskirt and a singlet on a 7-degree London day with an East wind that bites through my singlet, and shirt, and woolen jumper, and bomber jacket. They generally look rather put-upon.
If the jacket mentioned above has a hood with a fur lining, so much the better, and damn sensible it is, too, IMHO.
For the British male, anything goes, it seems. Including the guy at the next table in the beer garden wearing track pants that just don't stay up, red underpants (visible on account of the track pants) and nothing else. He does seem to have a rugby top about him somewhere, which he puts on every time he needs to go to the bar to buy a drink, presumably to avoid getting thrown out.
Now I'm going to let you in on a secret: What with one thing and another, I tend to take rather more notice of women's fashions than men's, as it walks past. There you have it.
Fashion for women is pretty rigid here at present. Tight-fitting, narrow jeans are in in a big way. Combine that with a skivvy or similar that reaches about half-way over the buttocks and a jacket (preferably leather, though others are also common) which comes nearly to the waist, and you have just described two-thirds of the women in London. Calf-high suede boots are an optional, but strongly recommended, extra.
There are, of course, the few die-hards that go out in a miniskirt and a singlet on a 7-degree London day with an East wind that bites through my singlet, and shirt, and woolen jumper, and bomber jacket. They generally look rather put-upon.
If the jacket mentioned above has a hood with a fur lining, so much the better, and damn sensible it is, too, IMHO.
For the British male, anything goes, it seems. Including the guy at the next table in the beer garden wearing track pants that just don't stay up, red underpants (visible on account of the track pants) and nothing else. He does seem to have a rugby top about him somewhere, which he puts on every time he needs to go to the bar to buy a drink, presumably to avoid getting thrown out.
Accents
Australians, whether they like it or not, have a certain image in the world. You see someone walking down the street in an Akubra hat, boots and stubbies (that's short shorts to the rest of you) and everyone knows that that is an Australian.
Actually, I've never seen anyone dressed quite like that outside a Paul Hogan movie. But the image persists, nonetheless. And when someone hears an Australian accent, that image is conjured up, and everyone knows that within five minutes there will be bottletops ripped off with teeth and large amounts of very cold beer swigged down.
And people here like that. They genuinely like Australians for all their uncultured, beer-swilling ways. God knows why. Anyway, I expected to be the beneficiary of some of that.
But I have discovered a terrible thing: I don't have a recognisable Australian accent. I meet people here and tell them that I've just arrived in the country from Australia. They invariably say, "Oh, yes, how long have you been out there then? Welcome home." I have to explain that, no, actually, I am Australian, and this is the first time I've been in this country.
In some ways it is nice to blend in. But it is really very embarrassing to be blending in perfectly well until a cashier says, "£2.90, please," and you have to examine all the change in your pocket to figure out which is the 20p coin again. People think you must be a bit daft. I tried just paying for everything in notes, but the fistful of change quickly put my pocket in danger.
I wonder what people will think if I start trying to write cheques for 80p?
Actually, I've never seen anyone dressed quite like that outside a Paul Hogan movie. But the image persists, nonetheless. And when someone hears an Australian accent, that image is conjured up, and everyone knows that within five minutes there will be bottletops ripped off with teeth and large amounts of very cold beer swigged down.
And people here like that. They genuinely like Australians for all their uncultured, beer-swilling ways. God knows why. Anyway, I expected to be the beneficiary of some of that.
But I have discovered a terrible thing: I don't have a recognisable Australian accent. I meet people here and tell them that I've just arrived in the country from Australia. They invariably say, "Oh, yes, how long have you been out there then? Welcome home." I have to explain that, no, actually, I am Australian, and this is the first time I've been in this country.
In some ways it is nice to blend in. But it is really very embarrassing to be blending in perfectly well until a cashier says, "£2.90, please," and you have to examine all the change in your pocket to figure out which is the 20p coin again. People think you must be a bit daft. I tried just paying for everything in notes, but the fistful of change quickly put my pocket in danger.
I wonder what people will think if I start trying to write cheques for 80p?
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Reviews
Here's a quick summary of the last week in the form of one-line reviews of the things I have seen.
Singapore Airport: I think I have already covered this. Shiny, big TVs, empty of people. Why does everyone assume that the only thing people want to do in airports is shopping? Baggage limits mean that the truth is exactly the opposite. Why are there no pool halls, libraries, museums, even a good pub would be welcome.
Singapore Airlines: Excellent. Good food, good stewardesses, good aircraft.
Airbus A380: Much enjoyed. The economy seats are a little bigger than on other aircraft. It was also the first aircraft I have flown on where it didn't feel small. Usually I look out of the window and think, "My God, it looks so small; will it get us there?" None of that with the A380. In fact, every time we hit a little bump of turbulence I thought, "This train track could do with some work. Wait..." I was on the top deck, which I don't really recommend. The lower deck has more head room. This aircraft also has bigger screens at each seat than most.
In-Flight Movies: Gory. I saw Sweeney Todd, which is very gruesome, as well as dark, sad and nasty. The fact it is a musical makes it a bit surreal, too. Also Casino Royale (1967, Woody Allen, Orson Welles etc). Funny and weird. Also Elizabeth: The Golden Age. A bit so-so. There were a few minor details of the history that they got right, otherwise a nice piece of fiction.
Heathrow: Big. Thank God I was not going through Terminal 5.
British Immigration: Summary. After all the checks they do before you get there, I don't think the guy even checked that I looked like my photograph.
British Cities: Not as I expected. They are undoubtedly big, but they don't feel big. I think it's because all the roads are small. In Adelaide, you know when you are getting close to the centre of the city because all the roads get big. I don't think I actually saw a road bigger than one lane in each direction in London (or Bath, for that matter).
London: Much better than I expected. Not as crowded as I'd been warned. I walked a long way in London. I was badly mislead by a tourist map into believing that St Paul's was somewhere near Piccadilly Circus. This is not the case. I asked a guy selling newspapers in Piccadilly how to get to St Paul's, and he looked at me as though I was barking mad and said, "Saint Porrrls??? Cor blimey, you don' 'arf mind a bleedin' long walk then, do you." He gave me directions, and I later found that I'd got most of the way there, but got lost. I ended up walking most of the way to St Paul's, then back up the Strand to Trafalgar Square, down to the Palace of Westminster, across the bridge to the London Eye and then down to Waterloo station.
British Trains: Fast, clean, relatively on time. This is relative to Australia, remember. The only problem I've had is when some lout smashed a window on a train I was about to catch and it was delayed.
The London Underground: Brilliant. Except when it isn't. The idea of a train service that leaves every two minutes throughout the day sounds fantastic. But I find that it only works in me to make me more impatient; suddenly if it takes four minutes for a train to arrive, I feel very put-upon and desperately late.
St Paul's: Magnificent, without being really beautiful. It lacks the elegance of some other church buildings, but is very rich. It must be hard to maintain Christian humility working or worshiping in a place like that; I know I would spend the whole time thinking what a wonderful place we'd built for God. Stupid of me, but there you go. I heard evensong here, which was beautiful.
Various other churches: Bath Abbey and Bristol Cathedral are very beautiful buildings. If you want to hear good acoustics, go sing in the chapter house of Bristol cathedral.
British Food: Not as bad as its reputation, which isn't saying all that much. I've had some pretty good meals in pubs, and they are not all that expensive, either. The Bayswater Arms (near where I was staying in London) had rump steaks for 8 pounds - not bad. The beer is good, too. I went to the Bayswater the first night I was here, thinking I'd try a real British pub. It was, too: The staff were all Australian.
Hyde Park: Stunning.
Palace Court Hotel: This is a little hotel on Princes Square where I stayed my first night here. For anyone who wants a flash, all-features hotel, this ain't it. For anyone with a few romantic ideas about London left, and who wants a comfortable bed and a reasonable breakfast, it is good.
British Weather: Very mixed. Today is really beautiful: Sunny, clear, warm (17 degrees). It feels warmer than 17 in Australia, because in Australia 17 degrees would be wet and windy, where here it is sunny and still. The sun warms you. I've also had a couple of days of 8 degrees with an East wind that bites through anything.
English Countryside: Green. Lush. Wonderful.
British Keyboards: Weird. I have to change my keyboard layout to be able to type the pound sign, but then I can't find any of the other symbols. The British layout for my laptop keyboard doesn't have the pipe sign ('|') at all, as far as I can make out.
3 Mobile: Pretty cool, but their coverage map is a lie. I get 1GB downloads in 30 days for 10 pounds, which is pretty good. They claim that I should get 2Mb download speed at my house in Somerset; 50kb would be nearer the mark. My house is on the side of a steep hill, and it seems this blocks the signal.
The Avon River: Resembles the Torrens River in some ways it should not be proud of.
Me and Cameras: Not good. Every time I go somewhere interesting, it is because I got lost trying to go somewhere else and I don't have my camera on me. My long walk around London was actually trying to find a church saying evening prayer - not the occasion for a camera. My long walk around Bath was actually trying to find the train station to buy a ticket. Now I'm in Bristol; I'm here to get a National Insurance number (a bit like Medicare and superannuation rolled into one for those familiar with Australia) and wish I had a camera here. Hyde Park is the only place I have good photos of; I will post some when I get my laptop and camera in the same place.
Laptop Batteries: Not long-lasting enough. I need to go now, or it's going to run out.
Singapore Airport: I think I have already covered this. Shiny, big TVs, empty of people. Why does everyone assume that the only thing people want to do in airports is shopping? Baggage limits mean that the truth is exactly the opposite. Why are there no pool halls, libraries, museums, even a good pub would be welcome.
Singapore Airlines: Excellent. Good food, good stewardesses, good aircraft.
Airbus A380: Much enjoyed. The economy seats are a little bigger than on other aircraft. It was also the first aircraft I have flown on where it didn't feel small. Usually I look out of the window and think, "My God, it looks so small; will it get us there?" None of that with the A380. In fact, every time we hit a little bump of turbulence I thought, "This train track could do with some work. Wait..." I was on the top deck, which I don't really recommend. The lower deck has more head room. This aircraft also has bigger screens at each seat than most.
In-Flight Movies: Gory. I saw Sweeney Todd, which is very gruesome, as well as dark, sad and nasty. The fact it is a musical makes it a bit surreal, too. Also Casino Royale (1967, Woody Allen, Orson Welles etc). Funny and weird. Also Elizabeth: The Golden Age. A bit so-so. There were a few minor details of the history that they got right, otherwise a nice piece of fiction.
Heathrow: Big. Thank God I was not going through Terminal 5.
British Immigration: Summary. After all the checks they do before you get there, I don't think the guy even checked that I looked like my photograph.
British Cities: Not as I expected. They are undoubtedly big, but they don't feel big. I think it's because all the roads are small. In Adelaide, you know when you are getting close to the centre of the city because all the roads get big. I don't think I actually saw a road bigger than one lane in each direction in London (or Bath, for that matter).
London: Much better than I expected. Not as crowded as I'd been warned. I walked a long way in London. I was badly mislead by a tourist map into believing that St Paul's was somewhere near Piccadilly Circus. This is not the case. I asked a guy selling newspapers in Piccadilly how to get to St Paul's, and he looked at me as though I was barking mad and said, "Saint Porrrls??? Cor blimey, you don' 'arf mind a bleedin' long walk then, do you." He gave me directions, and I later found that I'd got most of the way there, but got lost. I ended up walking most of the way to St Paul's, then back up the Strand to Trafalgar Square, down to the Palace of Westminster, across the bridge to the London Eye and then down to Waterloo station.
British Trains: Fast, clean, relatively on time. This is relative to Australia, remember. The only problem I've had is when some lout smashed a window on a train I was about to catch and it was delayed.
The London Underground: Brilliant. Except when it isn't. The idea of a train service that leaves every two minutes throughout the day sounds fantastic. But I find that it only works in me to make me more impatient; suddenly if it takes four minutes for a train to arrive, I feel very put-upon and desperately late.
St Paul's: Magnificent, without being really beautiful. It lacks the elegance of some other church buildings, but is very rich. It must be hard to maintain Christian humility working or worshiping in a place like that; I know I would spend the whole time thinking what a wonderful place we'd built for God. Stupid of me, but there you go. I heard evensong here, which was beautiful.
Various other churches: Bath Abbey and Bristol Cathedral are very beautiful buildings. If you want to hear good acoustics, go sing in the chapter house of Bristol cathedral.
British Food: Not as bad as its reputation, which isn't saying all that much. I've had some pretty good meals in pubs, and they are not all that expensive, either. The Bayswater Arms (near where I was staying in London) had rump steaks for 8 pounds - not bad. The beer is good, too. I went to the Bayswater the first night I was here, thinking I'd try a real British pub. It was, too: The staff were all Australian.
Hyde Park: Stunning.
Palace Court Hotel: This is a little hotel on Princes Square where I stayed my first night here. For anyone who wants a flash, all-features hotel, this ain't it. For anyone with a few romantic ideas about London left, and who wants a comfortable bed and a reasonable breakfast, it is good.
British Weather: Very mixed. Today is really beautiful: Sunny, clear, warm (17 degrees). It feels warmer than 17 in Australia, because in Australia 17 degrees would be wet and windy, where here it is sunny and still. The sun warms you. I've also had a couple of days of 8 degrees with an East wind that bites through anything.
English Countryside: Green. Lush. Wonderful.
British Keyboards: Weird. I have to change my keyboard layout to be able to type the pound sign, but then I can't find any of the other symbols. The British layout for my laptop keyboard doesn't have the pipe sign ('|') at all, as far as I can make out.
3 Mobile: Pretty cool, but their coverage map is a lie. I get 1GB downloads in 30 days for 10 pounds, which is pretty good. They claim that I should get 2Mb download speed at my house in Somerset; 50kb would be nearer the mark. My house is on the side of a steep hill, and it seems this blocks the signal.
The Avon River: Resembles the Torrens River in some ways it should not be proud of.
Me and Cameras: Not good. Every time I go somewhere interesting, it is because I got lost trying to go somewhere else and I don't have my camera on me. My long walk around London was actually trying to find a church saying evening prayer - not the occasion for a camera. My long walk around Bath was actually trying to find the train station to buy a ticket. Now I'm in Bristol; I'm here to get a National Insurance number (a bit like Medicare and superannuation rolled into one for those familiar with Australia) and wish I had a camera here. Hyde Park is the only place I have good photos of; I will post some when I get my laptop and camera in the same place.
Laptop Batteries: Not long-lasting enough. I need to go now, or it's going to run out.
England!
Well, here I am, safely in England! Actually I arrived on Thursday and I have been neglecting you, my dear readers, in a way that I should be ashamed of. The truth is that I have been busy, tired, excited and generally taking it all in so much that I haven't had time to write.
I spent about two days / one night in London (and loved it) and then stayed two nights with some people of extraordinary kindness and hospitality, whose daughter I know from Adelaide.
More details coming.
I spent about two days / one night in London (and loved it) and then stayed two nights with some people of extraordinary kindness and hospitality, whose daughter I know from Adelaide.
More details coming.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Singapore
I'm now sitting in a lounge at Changi Airport, Singapore. I've been here about five hours, but who needs to be bored when you have the internet, eh?
I tried walking around taking photos, but it was making the security people look nervous, so I stopped. Not before I found something interesting, though. Singapore Airlines have just put on a weekly service from Singapore to Houston, Texas. To celebrate, they imported some real Americans - at least, if you measure American-ness in hat terms:
Changi airport is very nice, all very new and shiny. It is also really empty this evening; I'm sure I'm exaggerating, but it looks to me that the staff-to-traveller ratio is well over 1. All the terminals are linked by the SkyTrain, which gets you from one to another about 40 feet off the ground. They also have the largest TV I have ever seen:
It's a bit hard to convey how big this is. The screen is about 15 feet high, if that helps.
I've found a nice little lounge where you pay S$35 and get food, soft drink, a shower and internet access for as long as you like. It's been good, but now it's time to go catch another plane.
I tried walking around taking photos, but it was making the security people look nervous, so I stopped. Not before I found something interesting, though. Singapore Airlines have just put on a weekly service from Singapore to Houston, Texas. To celebrate, they imported some real Americans - at least, if you measure American-ness in hat terms:
Changi airport is very nice, all very new and shiny. It is also really empty this evening; I'm sure I'm exaggerating, but it looks to me that the staff-to-traveller ratio is well over 1. All the terminals are linked by the SkyTrain, which gets you from one to another about 40 feet off the ground. They also have the largest TV I have ever seen:
It's a bit hard to convey how big this is. The screen is about 15 feet high, if that helps.
I've found a nice little lounge where you pay S$35 and get food, soft drink, a shower and internet access for as long as you like. It's been good, but now it's time to go catch another plane.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Flying
Rule #1 of flying: Try not to do it in school holidays.
Of course, rule #1 of flying should probably be to choose your flying school carefully, but I hope it won't come to that.
There I was, at the travel agent, thinking I was booking ages in advance, only to find that I've picked the first week of school holidays to fly and there are only two airlines with seats left. At least, only two airlines that land in places you want to visit.
Fortunately, Singapore airlines had one seat left, and it has the advantage that I get to ride in one of the big suckers - hope they have all the bugs sorted out.
Now, I'm usually someone who sleeps well on aircraft. I've been known to get 45 minutes of sleep between Adelaide and Melbourne, a flight of 55 minutes duration. I like my sleep, and I hope it'll go some way to getting over jet lag. So imagine my dismay when I find I'm going to be sharing the plane with about 400 children...
You will be kept posted on just how this turns out - and how many children get surreptitiously thrown out of the aeroplane.
I also need to figure out how to kill six hours in Singapore airport - again, with 400 kids rabbiting around the place. Suggestions welcome.
Of course, rule #1 of flying should probably be to choose your flying school carefully, but I hope it won't come to that.
There I was, at the travel agent, thinking I was booking ages in advance, only to find that I've picked the first week of school holidays to fly and there are only two airlines with seats left. At least, only two airlines that land in places you want to visit.
Fortunately, Singapore airlines had one seat left, and it has the advantage that I get to ride in one of the big suckers - hope they have all the bugs sorted out.
Now, I'm usually someone who sleeps well on aircraft. I've been known to get 45 minutes of sleep between Adelaide and Melbourne, a flight of 55 minutes duration. I like my sleep, and I hope it'll go some way to getting over jet lag. So imagine my dismay when I find I'm going to be sharing the plane with about 400 children...
You will be kept posted on just how this turns out - and how many children get surreptitiously thrown out of the aeroplane.
I also need to figure out how to kill six hours in Singapore airport - again, with 400 kids rabbiting around the place. Suggestions welcome.
Unemployed!
I finished work on Friday. Now I've got a week in the country with family, then a few days in the city before I get on a plane. A week chasing guitars, building cow amplifiers... no, wait, chasing cows and building guitar amplifiers.
The guitar amplifier is a long-term project. I started it nearly four years ago. It has sort of stagnated for most of that time, while I occasionally get enthusiastic and suddenly make lots of progress. The big stumbling block has been that I am tight and don't want to shell out $600 for the transformers, so I have wound them myself. The first one I did on a metal lathe that was originally designed for machining engine parts for quite large trucks. It worked, but it broke the wire a few times and it was generally a pain to get the wire to wrap neatly on the core.
The second one is winding next to me as I write this on a home-built coil winder made from old printer parts. The sheet feeder has been turned into the spindle, and the print head is now a wire guide. The fan is there because the motor needs to be run a bit above its rated voltage to cope, and it gets hot. The whole thing is controlled USB, using a controller circuit produced by eLabtronics, a small Adelaide-based company who make some very cool educational electronics. Anyway.
This is quite a strange time. A week ago I was incredibly excited about going to the UK - so much that about three times a day, when I thought no-one was looking, I'd jump up and down several times and grin maniacally. In the car I'd occasionally give a yelp of... I dunno, excitement and worriedness all wrapped up, I think.
Now the excitement is wearing off a bit (lets face it, after about four weeks like that already I was going to be dead from adrenaline poisoning pretty soon, anyway). There are a lot of people now who I am having to say goodbye to, as in this-is-it-and-I-won't-see-you-again-before-I-go. Also it was snowing in Kent yesterday - spring has come to England with a vengeance, it seems.
The guitar amplifier is a long-term project. I started it nearly four years ago. It has sort of stagnated for most of that time, while I occasionally get enthusiastic and suddenly make lots of progress. The big stumbling block has been that I am tight and don't want to shell out $600 for the transformers, so I have wound them myself. The first one I did on a metal lathe that was originally designed for machining engine parts for quite large trucks. It worked, but it broke the wire a few times and it was generally a pain to get the wire to wrap neatly on the core.
The second one is winding next to me as I write this on a home-built coil winder made from old printer parts. The sheet feeder has been turned into the spindle, and the print head is now a wire guide. The fan is there because the motor needs to be run a bit above its rated voltage to cope, and it gets hot. The whole thing is controlled USB, using a controller circuit produced by eLabtronics, a small Adelaide-based company who make some very cool educational electronics. Anyway.
This is quite a strange time. A week ago I was incredibly excited about going to the UK - so much that about three times a day, when I thought no-one was looking, I'd jump up and down several times and grin maniacally. In the car I'd occasionally give a yelp of... I dunno, excitement and worriedness all wrapped up, I think.
Now the excitement is wearing off a bit (lets face it, after about four weeks like that already I was going to be dead from adrenaline poisoning pretty soon, anyway). There are a lot of people now who I am having to say goodbye to, as in this-is-it-and-I-won't-see-you-again-before-I-go. Also it was snowing in Kent yesterday - spring has come to England with a vengeance, it seems.
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