/travel/usa/Once More To Mountain View
(Yes, two blog postings in a row. I didn't want to ruin what I hope was a bit of creative writing in the last one. :-) )
So I'm going to Mountain View again, once via Toronto. It doesn't actually save me much money to do it, but it saves time and fuel, and thus assuages my guilt about excessive air travel.
I'm leaving October 5th; I'll be in southern Ontario from the 6th to the 9th inclusive, probably hanging out in Toronto on Sunday the 9th and maybe the day before. I'll be in Mountain View from October 10th to 25th, when I fly back to Dublin.
I doubt I'll come out to Waterloo, but maybe.
/travel/ireland/Disjointed Thoughts On Autumne*
My hands are cold now, when I walk in the door. It's autumn here. Not an autumn I'm familiar with, really. Some days it fools me -- there's a small collection of yellow leaves in pushed up against the curb by wind and traffic. Not red, though.
It occurred to me the other day that I don't know where my winter jacket is. My big, black one. I doubt I'd need it here, but it's a funny thought.
When the dryer runs in my building, the whole stairwell gets that humid, soapy smell. That's a new thing, since it got cooler. And the rains -- formerly misty, light, and bright -- are now much colder and heavier.
My morning run demands that extra bit of cold-fighting willpower -- and doesn't always get it. The darkness comes around when work ends, and barely leaves in time for me to go running before I go back. It's both colder and not as pretty as it was along the canal, though still prettier than it will be. They say we're in for a cold winter -- maybe even some snow. The swans on the canal seem to have begun to cling together in a tight crowd, seemingly bracing for the coming season. Their cygnets have gone from a nest I watched being built day by day, to nearly full grown, and a steadily lightening coat of gray feathers. Geese are notable by their absence -- none are seen in great wedges overhead, nor are there great flocks settled in the evening by streams and ponds.
The little incidental heat sources have regained their winterly preciousness -- an oven, done cooking; a sink full of warm water; morning showers; a fuzzy blanket. The heat isn't on in our flat yet, but soon radiators -- like you might find in an old Canadian house, or on any British television show -- will be soon added to that list.
Autumn has arrived.
/movies/Hotel Rwanda
Everyone should watch this movie. I was 13 when the genocide was going on; I vaguely remember it, but never really understood it. I've heard it talked about, usually in the context of "UN" and "failure," but that never struck home for me until tonight. We, our grand peaceful institutions, our democracy, our humanity, failed utterly. We failed when there was no moral ambiguity. We failed when the cost was trivial. We failed, probably, because they were African. And I don't see any reason that we wouldn't again. Perhaps we have, very recently.
The judgement that everyone should watch this movie is not about it being good, or bad, but necessary.
Comments
patty wrote
I found the book "a day by the pool in Kigali" to contain an even more raw and terrible account, although semi-fictional. Romeo Dallaire's role in the genocide (head of UN in Rwanda at the time, and a Canadian) is something to think about. Hoping to read his "Shake hands with the devil" soon.
/travel/cycling/Glasgow to Dunnet Head
At long last, a blog entry. The problem with vacation is that you have so much to catch up on when you get back.
So, our cycling trip was a delightful success. We had mostly tailwinds, it rained frequently but only once in a way that interfered with our day, and we made it to our goal. We too a train from Tarbet (on Loch Lomond) to Fort William on on the second day, thanks to the rain. I saw more rainbows in the last 3 or 4 days than the rest of my life combined, I think. The total distance was just over 500km. My odometer was miscalibrated, so we don't know the exact distance. Photos are posted and captioned.
Here's one quick story:
We were cycling along Loch Ness, finally the roads were quiet and we were making good time -- south of there the roads had been busy and narrow enough that we often had to pull off to let traffic pass. We passed a bagpiper at a campground, but decided to keep going since we were making good time. About a kilometer later, we decided it was actually the last campground we knew about for quite a distance, and it was certainly the lats one on Loch Ness, so we decided to go back. We got the last tent spot on the beach, I think, and it was rather slanted.
Let me tell you about midges. Mosquitoes don't really bother me; I grew used to them at summer camp. I thought, given all the places I've been in Canada that claim to have the worst mosquitoes in the world, that midges would be no problem. Hot damn they're annoying. Much smaller, and clingier. They're like those clouds of bugs you somemtimes see on summer evenings in Canadian cities, except they settle down on you and start feasting. They're much more invasive than bigger bugs, too. They left little flat red spots on me, and small bumps on Clare. Mostly they drive you mad, though. And hard to get out of your tent.
Once we were done braving the midges and setting up, and after a quick wade into a cold cold Loch (they're very deep, being formed in the cleavage of two mountains), we went up to the little campground pub. It was fairly full, so we settled down at a table between two families. One was playing dominoes, the other just chatting. I liked the atmosphere of a pub with families in it; I think that, ironically, it helps to keep the parents in line. Of course, it's rather bad for the kids of that breaks down. Anyway, a fellow in full dress stepped up with bagpipes. The bartended introduced him as a German, who had been in Edinburgh (?) to take part in a fundraiser, whose goal was to set the record for the most musicians in a single gathering. How this raises funds, I don't know. In any case, he told some stories, spoke some poems, and played some songs. For certain pieces, the Scots in the room joined in. He ended with Amazing Grace and Auld Langs Syne.
We chatted with the family beside us, up from southern Scotland, I think. When they talked amongst themselves, they were rather hard to follow, but they changed their dialect to talk to us. Usually, anyway -- I asked them what "Inver" meant, as in "Inverness", "Inverlochy," etc. They didn't know, but ended up finding out that it means "Mouth Of", which is really obvious in retrospect, given Inverness' location. Anyway, one said to the other with a thick accent something about adding something to his "ken", meaning knowledge. I've never heard that word used exceptin Scrabble and Boggle, and even then usually only by my mother.
We finished up a glass of beer and headed out to bed, with warm good nights and good wishes from the folks beside us.
I think that was my overall surprise -- the warmness of most places. We had a short stretch where people didn't seem to want tourists, but most of the time they were friendly. Lots of towns just had a tiny shop with less stuff than the Spar across the street from me, and maybe one or two pubs and a small Inn. One of our favourite places was when we hit the north coast, a little town with a pub full of fairly young people who just sat around and chatted between tables. The lack of music was nice, I think. At one point they cracked out a dictionary, to look up Tomarillo. And they were talking about how HP Sauce (very popular around here) stood for "Houses of Parliament". They included us without asking us our story -- no doubt they'd heard it before -- which was somehow more inclusive.
Unfortunately, we slept badly that night, between a cold wind, a slopy tent, and some midges.
That's all for now.
Comments
Julia wrote
midges..at least they have a cute name.
that shoundsh like a lot of fun - and good work clare!
Jim wrote
Clare is a glow worm! Who knew.
