An interesting question that I came across the other day.
“ We often see images of crowds of people firing hundreds of rounds of bullets into the air in celebration. What happens to those bullets? Surely they cannot keep heading into space forever? When gravity finally takes over, why aren’t they falling and killing the people that fired them?”
A great answer by Dr Karl S. Kruszelnicki.
“I’ve never been in such a crowd, but I would guess that most of these revellers think their bullets can’t hurt them. They’d be wrong.
The first thing to realise is that what goes up must come down – albeit, in the case of a bullet, more slowly. A bullet is fired with a typical muzzle velocity of about 3,000 kmh. Once gases stop pushing it, and it has well and truly left the barrel of the gun, it begins to slow. When it is fired upwards, two forces are acting to slow it – the resistance of the air and the downward suck of gravity. Typically a bullet takes about 30 seconds to climb to a height of around three kilometres. Eventually it will come to a dead halt, then begin its descent.
The suck of gravity is not nearly as powerful as the explosive gases that first fired the bullet from the barrel, so the plummeting projectile will only accelerate to a speed of somewhere between 330and 770 kmh – depending on the weight and the shape of the bullet.
A speed of 770kmh may be much slower than 3000kmh, but it is still more than enough for a bullet to penetrate a human skull (you need only 220kmh to do that). Most people who have been hit by bullets falling from the sky are struck on their upper back, the top of their head or their shoulders.
After the end of the Gulf War, Kuwaitis celebrated by firing weapons into the air and 20 died from falling bullets.
In Los Angeles between 1985 and 1992, doctors at the King/Drew Medical Centre treated 118 people for random falling-bullet injuries. Thirty eight died. Practically all of the injuries were caused by holiday-wekend party-goers discharging weapons.
Unfortunately, there have been instances in Australia where bullets have been fired into the air during celebrations. A few years back, a nine year old girl (in Belfield, Sydney) was watching New Year’s Eve fireworks with her parents in their driveway. At 12.05am, January 1st, 2002, a bullet fell out of the sky and lodged in her upper arm. If she had been standing a few centimetres to one side, she could have been killed.”
3.2.06
Things That Go Bump In The Night.
I realise this has nothing what so ever to do Europe and my time here but I was recounting it to another person and I thought I should share it. The things we dooooooo!
We had a young Scottish guy who was working with us on a minerals exploration drilling program up in the far north of Australia on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We were camping out in an abandonded homestead about 300km north of the nearest town. Coming from central Scotland, Donald firmly believed in ghosties and ghouls and all things that go bump in the night.
A couple of us got together before Donald arrived at the camp and made a cassette tape with about 15 min of silence at the start and then we had people clanking lengths of chain, murmuring and laughing in deep spooky voices. This would go for about 20 seconds and then there would be a pause of about a minute or so before starting up again and so forth for about a total of 10 minutes.
On the night of his arrival, as we sat around the camp fire, we all told him tales of a group of murdered stockmen that were ambushed by aboriginies over 100 years before in the dry river bed below the homestead. Having sufficiently spooked him, we declared it a night, turned off the portable diesel generator that was running the lights and crawled into our swags / sleeping bags.
Behind the rusty old water tank about 30 meters away, we had placed the cassette player running on batteries and turned it on. Everyone said good night to each other and pretended to be fast asleep within minutes.
About 15 minutes later it began and Donald sat straight up and yelled, "Fook did you hear that???" We took it in turns in the dark to respond to him telling him to shut up and go to sleep and that there were no sounds and that he was dreaming. Of course we were all lying there quaking in stifled laughter as Donald rapidly progressed towards complete nervous hysteria. After about the 4th round of ghostly noises he bolted out of bed, ran outside and started up the portable generator, flooding the camp in lights. He stood with his back to the dying embers of the camp fire and a long handled shovel braced across his chest, staring wildly into the night.
We left him standing there to enjoy the sounds of a blissfully quiet evening in the bush whilst we all turned over and went to sleep.
Even to this day he has never been told the truth. I mean to say what are mates for.
We had a young Scottish guy who was working with us on a minerals exploration drilling program up in the far north of Australia on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We were camping out in an abandonded homestead about 300km north of the nearest town. Coming from central Scotland, Donald firmly believed in ghosties and ghouls and all things that go bump in the night.
A couple of us got together before Donald arrived at the camp and made a cassette tape with about 15 min of silence at the start and then we had people clanking lengths of chain, murmuring and laughing in deep spooky voices. This would go for about 20 seconds and then there would be a pause of about a minute or so before starting up again and so forth for about a total of 10 minutes.
On the night of his arrival, as we sat around the camp fire, we all told him tales of a group of murdered stockmen that were ambushed by aboriginies over 100 years before in the dry river bed below the homestead. Having sufficiently spooked him, we declared it a night, turned off the portable diesel generator that was running the lights and crawled into our swags / sleeping bags.
Behind the rusty old water tank about 30 meters away, we had placed the cassette player running on batteries and turned it on. Everyone said good night to each other and pretended to be fast asleep within minutes.
About 15 minutes later it began and Donald sat straight up and yelled, "Fook did you hear that???" We took it in turns in the dark to respond to him telling him to shut up and go to sleep and that there were no sounds and that he was dreaming. Of course we were all lying there quaking in stifled laughter as Donald rapidly progressed towards complete nervous hysteria. After about the 4th round of ghostly noises he bolted out of bed, ran outside and started up the portable generator, flooding the camp in lights. He stood with his back to the dying embers of the camp fire and a long handled shovel braced across his chest, staring wildly into the night.
We left him standing there to enjoy the sounds of a blissfully quiet evening in the bush whilst we all turned over and went to sleep.
Even to this day he has never been told the truth. I mean to say what are mates for.
2.2.06
Awwww You've Surrendered !!!
My brother and his family recently travelled to South Africa and regaled me with this story.
Whilst in Nairobi they visited a rather unique open air meat speciality restaurant aptly named, “Carnivore”, which serves a host of various animals grilled to perfection and is widely regarded as one of 'Africa's Greatest Eating Experiences'.
After being seated by a large African waiter they were given an array of bowls with various dipping sauces and a small pennant flag on a stand which read “Carnivore”. When they enquired into the reason for the flag they were told in his booming barritone, “ Dis is your flag, when it is up we will keep coming with the food and when it is lying over it means you have surrendered but I hope you do not surrender!”
Skewered upon converted masai spears over a centrally located char grill were a host of meats including lamb, pork, venison, rump and sirloin beef, lamb, spare ribs, chicken wings, sausages and local specialities including zebra, ostrich, crocodile, giraffe, impala and hartebeest.
The waiting chefs appeared table side and proceeded to carve meat direct from the skewers onto the cast iron plates on the table. Everytime the plates were even beginning to show signs of depletion the servers would reappear and slice another plate full of whatever you desired.
Plate upon plate arrived and hence it was not overly long before my brother and family were slowly turning green at the gills and despite the urge to sample as much as possible of the offered fare, the sheer physics of abdominal expansion eventually won out.
My brother laid the flag on it its side and out of nowhere the large African waiter appeared once more and said with a look of disappointment, “Awwww you have surrendered, what a shame!”. The guy obviously had a wild sense of humour although I think the diners were to full to laugh themselves without risking an unwanted physical reaction.
There is a vegetarian menu available with salads and vegetable side dishes but it goes without saying that you would probably find the ambience upsetting on moral grounds if you were a vegetarian.
If you are headed to Nairobi then all I can say is, “Bon apetit!”
Whilst in Nairobi they visited a rather unique open air meat speciality restaurant aptly named, “Carnivore”, which serves a host of various animals grilled to perfection and is widely regarded as one of 'Africa's Greatest Eating Experiences'.
After being seated by a large African waiter they were given an array of bowls with various dipping sauces and a small pennant flag on a stand which read “Carnivore”. When they enquired into the reason for the flag they were told in his booming barritone, “ Dis is your flag, when it is up we will keep coming with the food and when it is lying over it means you have surrendered but I hope you do not surrender!”
Skewered upon converted masai spears over a centrally located char grill were a host of meats including lamb, pork, venison, rump and sirloin beef, lamb, spare ribs, chicken wings, sausages and local specialities including zebra, ostrich, crocodile, giraffe, impala and hartebeest.
The waiting chefs appeared table side and proceeded to carve meat direct from the skewers onto the cast iron plates on the table. Everytime the plates were even beginning to show signs of depletion the servers would reappear and slice another plate full of whatever you desired.
Plate upon plate arrived and hence it was not overly long before my brother and family were slowly turning green at the gills and despite the urge to sample as much as possible of the offered fare, the sheer physics of abdominal expansion eventually won out.
My brother laid the flag on it its side and out of nowhere the large African waiter appeared once more and said with a look of disappointment, “Awwww you have surrendered, what a shame!”. The guy obviously had a wild sense of humour although I think the diners were to full to laugh themselves without risking an unwanted physical reaction.
There is a vegetarian menu available with salads and vegetable side dishes but it goes without saying that you would probably find the ambience upsetting on moral grounds if you were a vegetarian.
If you are headed to Nairobi then all I can say is, “Bon apetit!”
27.1.06
John (Milton) Howard - Prime Minister Of Paradise Lost
One of the things that has most upset me in the time I have lived here in Germany, is the way in which my home country of Australia has changed in the eyes of the world, forever. I was always happy to go forth into the world and state my nationality with pride and the certain knowledge that we, Australians, were the most eclectic mix of race, religion and politics on the face of the planet. We were a nation built on the cultural foundation of every other nationality on the planet. We have never shown reluctance to accept the ways of others, no matter their background, until the spin doctors in Canberra started the fear and loathing propaganda. A campaign which to my mind was responsible for setting off the race riots in Bondi.
The world was welcome to share our land and our lives once upon a time.
Since my departure from Australia I have watched in mute anger and desperation as dentention camps sprung up in the deserts, people being detained without chance of reprieve for years on end. I have watched in disbelief as an anti-terrorism bill, which was defeated in the British parliament due to infringements of the Human Rights Act, was swept in to law in Australia. Our constitution had never needed or required a Human Rights Act before yet the failure to instigate one has enabled the Howard government to push this bill into law virtually without opposition. A large smoke screen was also thrown up at the time of its instigation by making sweeping reforms in the Industrial Relations laws that dramatically affected every working Australian.
Did it ever occur to you Mr Howard, the type of legacy that you leave behind you for your children's children? I think not. Paradise lost! Paranoia found!
I came across the excerpt below recently and felt it really said just so much about our current political and social direction in recent times. I will let you the reader draw your own conclusions.
“What no one seemed to notice was the ever widening gap between the government and the people. And it became always wider…the whole process of its coming into being, was above all diverting, it provided an excuse not to think…for people who did not want to think anyway, gave us some dreadful, fundamental things to think about…and kept us so busy with continuous changes and ‘crisis’ and so fascinated…by the machinations of the ‘national enemies’, without and within, that wehad no time to thinkabout these dreadful things that were growing, little by little, all around us…
“Each step was so small, so inconsequential, so well explained or, on occasion, ‘regretted’, that unless one understood that the whole thing was in principle, what all these ‘little measures’…must one day lead to, one no more saw it developing from day to day than a farmer sees the corn growing…Each act is worse than the last, but only a little worse. You wait for the next and the next.
“You wait for one great shocking occasion, thinking that others, when such a shock comes, will join you in resisting somehow. You don’t want to act, or even talk, alone…you don’t want to ‘go out of your way to make trouble’. But the one great shocking occasion, when tens or hundreds or thousands will join with you, never comes.
“That’s the difficulty. The forms are all there, all untouched, all reassuring, the houses, the shops, the mealtimes, the visits, the concerts, the cinema, the holidays. But the spirit, which you never noticed because you made the lifelong mistake of identifying it with forms, is changed. Now you live in a world of hate and fear, and the people who hate and fear do not even know it themselves, when everyone is transformed, no one is transformed.
“You have accepted things you would not have accepted five years ago, a year ago, things your father…could never have imagined.”
From Milton Mayer, They Thought They Were Free, The Germans, 1938-45 (University of Chicago Press, 1955)
The world was welcome to share our land and our lives once upon a time.
Since my departure from Australia I have watched in mute anger and desperation as dentention camps sprung up in the deserts, people being detained without chance of reprieve for years on end. I have watched in disbelief as an anti-terrorism bill, which was defeated in the British parliament due to infringements of the Human Rights Act, was swept in to law in Australia. Our constitution had never needed or required a Human Rights Act before yet the failure to instigate one has enabled the Howard government to push this bill into law virtually without opposition. A large smoke screen was also thrown up at the time of its instigation by making sweeping reforms in the Industrial Relations laws that dramatically affected every working Australian.
Did it ever occur to you Mr Howard, the type of legacy that you leave behind you for your children's children? I think not. Paradise lost! Paranoia found!
I came across the excerpt below recently and felt it really said just so much about our current political and social direction in recent times. I will let you the reader draw your own conclusions.
“What no one seemed to notice was the ever widening gap between the government and the people. And it became always wider…the whole process of its coming into being, was above all diverting, it provided an excuse not to think…for people who did not want to think anyway, gave us some dreadful, fundamental things to think about…and kept us so busy with continuous changes and ‘crisis’ and so fascinated…by the machinations of the ‘national enemies’, without and within, that wehad no time to thinkabout these dreadful things that were growing, little by little, all around us…
“Each step was so small, so inconsequential, so well explained or, on occasion, ‘regretted’, that unless one understood that the whole thing was in principle, what all these ‘little measures’…must one day lead to, one no more saw it developing from day to day than a farmer sees the corn growing…Each act is worse than the last, but only a little worse. You wait for the next and the next.
“You wait for one great shocking occasion, thinking that others, when such a shock comes, will join you in resisting somehow. You don’t want to act, or even talk, alone…you don’t want to ‘go out of your way to make trouble’. But the one great shocking occasion, when tens or hundreds or thousands will join with you, never comes.
“That’s the difficulty. The forms are all there, all untouched, all reassuring, the houses, the shops, the mealtimes, the visits, the concerts, the cinema, the holidays. But the spirit, which you never noticed because you made the lifelong mistake of identifying it with forms, is changed. Now you live in a world of hate and fear, and the people who hate and fear do not even know it themselves, when everyone is transformed, no one is transformed.
“You have accepted things you would not have accepted five years ago, a year ago, things your father…could never have imagined.”
From Milton Mayer, They Thought They Were Free, The Germans, 1938-45 (University of Chicago Press, 1955)
What It Means To Be British
One of the British national daily newspapers is asking readers
"What it means to be British?". Some of the emails are hilarious,. This is one from a chap in Switzerland ...
Being British is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for
a Belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing an Indian curry or a
Turkish kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch
American shows on a Japanese TV and when they are overseas, in trying to be popular, they pretend to be Irish.
And the most British thing of all?
Suspicion of anything foreign.
"What it means to be British?". Some of the emails are hilarious,. This is one from a chap in Switzerland ...
Being British is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for
a Belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing an Indian curry or a
Turkish kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch
American shows on a Japanese TV and when they are overseas, in trying to be popular, they pretend to be Irish.
And the most British thing of all?
Suspicion of anything foreign.
25.1.06
Good Wine And Cheese Don’t Go Together?
Oh my god, it’s the end of the world as I know it! All is lost! My senses are numb with shock and my lips tremble in despair. My darkest hour is upon me as it would seem that one of favourite past times is under assult by the boffins.
The New Scientist Magazine recently reported the following findings:
Don’t waste good wine if you are eating cheese. The magazine shows the wine buff’s favourite accompaniment masks the complex flavours of wine.
Researchers at the department of viticulture and oenology at the University of California asked a team of wine tatsters to evaluate cheap and expensive versions of four different red wines.
After cheese, the wines were judged to taste flatter, with pinot noir, shiraz and cabernet sauvignon all deemed to have lost flavour.
The scientists believe proteins in cheese might bind to flavour compounds in wineand make them harder to taste. "
Hmmmmmm!
Cheese has presented many dilemmas in its time even to leaders of the free world:
“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese? “
--Charles De Gaulle
Personally I think the wine has little choice in my world but to continue to suffer, as nothing in this world gives me more happiness than a big chunk of Rocquefort or Mimolette washed down with a glass of vintage 1997 Barolo or 2000 Margaux. I’ll drink to that!
The New Scientist Magazine recently reported the following findings:
Don’t waste good wine if you are eating cheese. The magazine shows the wine buff’s favourite accompaniment masks the complex flavours of wine.
Researchers at the department of viticulture and oenology at the University of California asked a team of wine tatsters to evaluate cheap and expensive versions of four different red wines.
After cheese, the wines were judged to taste flatter, with pinot noir, shiraz and cabernet sauvignon all deemed to have lost flavour.
The scientists believe proteins in cheese might bind to flavour compounds in wineand make them harder to taste. "
Hmmmmmm!
Cheese has presented many dilemmas in its time even to leaders of the free world:
“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese? “
--Charles De Gaulle
Personally I think the wine has little choice in my world but to continue to suffer, as nothing in this world gives me more happiness than a big chunk of Rocquefort or Mimolette washed down with a glass of vintage 1997 Barolo or 2000 Margaux. I’ll drink to that!
21.1.06
Wine all Wine!
You must be very patient to reap the rewards of aged wine. Use anything and everything you must to avoid drinking it too soon. I've had 6 trips to the Betty Ford clinic whilst waiting.
11.1.06
Banal Humour
Some more banal humour for your inevitable titillation:
· I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my Grandfather. Not kicking and screaming like the passengers in his car.
· Two atoms are walking down the road. One turns to the other and says, "I think I've lost a neutron". There other one says, "Are you sure?" He feels himself up and down and says, "Yes, I'm positive."
· A priest, a rabbi and a vicar walk into a bar The barman says, "Is this some kind of joke?"
· Two hungry goats are walking around Hollywood when one of them finds a discarded reel of film and gobbles it up. The other goat asks: 'What was it like?' to which his mate replies: 'Not bad. Not as good as the book.'
· What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?
· Pumpkin Pi
· My grandmother started walking 5 miles a day when she was 60. She is now 97 and we don't know where she is.
· "Hey," says one musician to another, "who was that piccolo I saw you out with last night?" "That was no piccolo," he replied, "that was my fife."
· I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my Grandfather. Not kicking and screaming like the passengers in his car.
· Two atoms are walking down the road. One turns to the other and says, "I think I've lost a neutron". There other one says, "Are you sure?" He feels himself up and down and says, "Yes, I'm positive."
· A priest, a rabbi and a vicar walk into a bar The barman says, "Is this some kind of joke?"
· Two hungry goats are walking around Hollywood when one of them finds a discarded reel of film and gobbles it up. The other goat asks: 'What was it like?' to which his mate replies: 'Not bad. Not as good as the book.'
· What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?
· Pumpkin Pi
· My grandmother started walking 5 miles a day when she was 60. She is now 97 and we don't know where she is.
· "Hey," says one musician to another, "who was that piccolo I saw you out with last night?" "That was no piccolo," he replied, "that was my fife."
8.12.05
The Importance Of Getting Drunk
A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffolo and when a herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole because the general speed and health of the whole keeps improving by the regular culling of the weakest members.
In much the same way, the human brain can operate only as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, we all know, kills off brain cells but naturally it attacks the slowest and weakest cells first. In this way, regular consumption of alcohol eliminates the weaker cells, constantly making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. The result of this in-depth epidemiological study, verify and validate the casual link between all-weekend parties and the achievment of excellence in all disiplines. It also explains why, after a few short years of leaving university, getting married, having kids and more responsibilities in life, most workers cannot keep up with the performance of the new graduates. Only those that stick to the strict regime of voracious alcohol consumption can maintain the intellectual levels that they achieved in their years at university.
If you feel that you are losing your competitive edge, do not sit and shudder at home – get out there and get back into the pub.
Courtesy of The Ducks and Drakes Club of London.
(Cockney rhyming slang for ``the shakes´´)
In much the same way, the human brain can operate only as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, we all know, kills off brain cells but naturally it attacks the slowest and weakest cells first. In this way, regular consumption of alcohol eliminates the weaker cells, constantly making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. The result of this in-depth epidemiological study, verify and validate the casual link between all-weekend parties and the achievment of excellence in all disiplines. It also explains why, after a few short years of leaving university, getting married, having kids and more responsibilities in life, most workers cannot keep up with the performance of the new graduates. Only those that stick to the strict regime of voracious alcohol consumption can maintain the intellectual levels that they achieved in their years at university.
If you feel that you are losing your competitive edge, do not sit and shudder at home – get out there and get back into the pub.
Courtesy of The Ducks and Drakes Club of London.
(Cockney rhyming slang for ``the shakes´´)
26.11.05
Sand Dunes On The Rhine River
Just to the south of us here where the Rhine River has rather a wide flood valley there are massive sand dunes. Surprised ? I sure as hell was considering that everything else that is visible as far as the eye can see is lush verdent green pastures, agricultural fields, state forestry and buildings.
It is really bizzare but apparently the Rhine Valley was some 4,000 metres deep 150 mil years ago and the mighty river has slowly filled its flood plains and valley floor with river washed gravels and sands.
Today they are visible as these massive waves of dunes that has one expecting to see Peter O’Toole, as Lawrence of Arabia, pissed to the eyeballs on schnapps and cider, charging down them on his trusty Arabian steed, bedouin headress flying in the breeze, sword brandished aloft.
( *** Diary note: Apple Harvest 2006, must procure one horse, one sword, one Arabian Nights costume, large goat skin water bag for cider...hmmmm.........)
It is really bizzare but apparently the Rhine Valley was some 4,000 metres deep 150 mil years ago and the mighty river has slowly filled its flood plains and valley floor with river washed gravels and sands.
Today they are visible as these massive waves of dunes that has one expecting to see Peter O’Toole, as Lawrence of Arabia, pissed to the eyeballs on schnapps and cider, charging down them on his trusty Arabian steed, bedouin headress flying in the breeze, sword brandished aloft.
( *** Diary note: Apple Harvest 2006, must procure one horse, one sword, one Arabian Nights costume, large goat skin water bag for cider...hmmmm.........)
Searching For Heidi Part 2
The ferry ride was great and was certainly closer to a ship than a ferry. It was 2 decks high with 1st and 2nd class lounges, bars and a restaurant.
The houses that we passed on the lakes edge were nothing short of mini castles with their turreted boathouses and luxury launches and yachts tethered below them. We reached Luzern and were picked up by minibus and transported to the Palace Luzern.
Once again we were all given very nice junior suites with lake and city views. We had a bit of time to ourselves before our tour of the property with the Managing Director Mr. Andrea Jorger. Once again it was a true hotel of the grand palace era with huge chandelliers and massive marmotte pillars through the main lobby and lounges. We had canapes and very good pinot grigio in the lounge before heading to Jaspers restaurant which holds 16 gualt millau points. Classic but contemporary in its distinctive design, the Jasper embraces the finest furnishings and flavours.
"Their young chef Françoise Wicki (GaultMillau “Swiss Discovery of the Year 2001”) has already won critical acclaim for her culinary expertise. She possesses an intuitive feel for refined product combinations."
We had a 3 course meal interspersed with wonderful home made breads and olive oil for dipping. The entree was sauteed scallops with glazed celery and a herb pesto. The main was a Double veal rib chop (deboned)with rosemary potatoes, kenya beans and boletus and for desert an elder creme brulee with granita and pastry. Her remarkable use of herbs and spices create dishes that simply sparkled with surprise. The wines were also very good and we had a 2003 Sauvignon Blanc by Rosenauer from Luzern and a 2002 Blauburgunder also from Rosenauer. We then retired to the lobby bar with its classical English ambience for a snifter or 3 of Swiss William Pear schnapps and some more calvados. As it was Saturday night my colleague Adrian and I then took a long leisurely stroll through the old city of Luzern, through its winding cobbled lanes with its bars and clubs and hyper youths. An excellent little outing. Headed back to the Luzern casino to its night club for a quick beer before retiring at around 2.00am for a few hours sleep before the Sunday outing.
After a mammoth buffet breakfast we left our luggage with the concierge to be forwarded to Arth Goldau rail station where we would meet our train to Berne later in the day. We strolled around the lake with our courtesy hotel backpacks filled with picnic lunch to the ferry terminal and then sailed to Vitznau where we took the funicular Rigi train to the top of Mt Rigi. It was about 35 minutes to the top but the views to all points of the compass were sensational. We sat on the grass with our picnic lunches and took in the breath taking panorama. Nice lunch with sandwiches, fruit, chocolate, cheeses and salad.
We then took a different train line back down the mountain to Arth Goldau via Klösterli. There we took a regional express to Berne before changing trains again and heading back to Frankfurt via Mannheim. All in all a delightful 3 days but I have to say that it was a fairly strenuous and demanding little jaunt, probably due in the main to a complete over indulgence both gastronomical and visual.
The houses that we passed on the lakes edge were nothing short of mini castles with their turreted boathouses and luxury launches and yachts tethered below them. We reached Luzern and were picked up by minibus and transported to the Palace Luzern.
Once again we were all given very nice junior suites with lake and city views. We had a bit of time to ourselves before our tour of the property with the Managing Director Mr. Andrea Jorger. Once again it was a true hotel of the grand palace era with huge chandelliers and massive marmotte pillars through the main lobby and lounges. We had canapes and very good pinot grigio in the lounge before heading to Jaspers restaurant which holds 16 gualt millau points. Classic but contemporary in its distinctive design, the Jasper embraces the finest furnishings and flavours.
"Their young chef Françoise Wicki (GaultMillau “Swiss Discovery of the Year 2001”) has already won critical acclaim for her culinary expertise. She possesses an intuitive feel for refined product combinations."
We had a 3 course meal interspersed with wonderful home made breads and olive oil for dipping. The entree was sauteed scallops with glazed celery and a herb pesto. The main was a Double veal rib chop (deboned)with rosemary potatoes, kenya beans and boletus and for desert an elder creme brulee with granita and pastry. Her remarkable use of herbs and spices create dishes that simply sparkled with surprise. The wines were also very good and we had a 2003 Sauvignon Blanc by Rosenauer from Luzern and a 2002 Blauburgunder also from Rosenauer. We then retired to the lobby bar with its classical English ambience for a snifter or 3 of Swiss William Pear schnapps and some more calvados. As it was Saturday night my colleague Adrian and I then took a long leisurely stroll through the old city of Luzern, through its winding cobbled lanes with its bars and clubs and hyper youths. An excellent little outing. Headed back to the Luzern casino to its night club for a quick beer before retiring at around 2.00am for a few hours sleep before the Sunday outing.
After a mammoth buffet breakfast we left our luggage with the concierge to be forwarded to Arth Goldau rail station where we would meet our train to Berne later in the day. We strolled around the lake with our courtesy hotel backpacks filled with picnic lunch to the ferry terminal and then sailed to Vitznau where we took the funicular Rigi train to the top of Mt Rigi. It was about 35 minutes to the top but the views to all points of the compass were sensational. We sat on the grass with our picnic lunches and took in the breath taking panorama. Nice lunch with sandwiches, fruit, chocolate, cheeses and salad.
We then took a different train line back down the mountain to Arth Goldau via Klösterli. There we took a regional express to Berne before changing trains again and heading back to Frankfurt via Mannheim. All in all a delightful 3 days but I have to say that it was a fairly strenuous and demanding little jaunt, probably due in the main to a complete over indulgence both gastronomical and visual.
25.11.05
Searching For Heidi Part 1
Just back from a weeks holidays which was mainly spent in Darmstadt working on the garden. Last Friday I left with 4 work colleagues for a 3 day trip to Switzerland on a hotel familiarisation and returned late last night. We caught the ICE high speed express service to Interlaken on Friday morning and after a train change in Berne we zoomed off down through the alps along the side of Lake Thun, arriving in Interlaken about 5pm.
We were met at the station by Beate Makowsky the Sales Manager from The Victoria Jungfrau Grand Hotel and taken to the hotel. It is a Grand Hotel in the true tradition of palaces of its era and boasts a lot of art deco and magnificent ballrooms overhung with fabulous crystal chandeliers. It was the height of Victorian society and fashion to stay at these types of hotel by the aristocracy in turn of the century europe. They have just finished building a state of the art spa onto the rear of the hotel which also has a new wing of 12 suites. We were each given a stunning new suite of about 60 square meters, with Bang & Olufsen TV and stereo, big balconies with recliners and views to the peak of the Jungfrau, and bathroom big enough to accomodate a normal lounge room in marmotte marble and glass. Very modern and wonderfully comfortable with a full lounge sitting area and writing desk. Normally 900 swiss francs per night. For James and friends, free !!!! Gotta love that word.
We were given enough time to enjoy their new spa complex for 1.5 hrs and then we met in the lobby for a tour of the hotel and its facilities.
At the end of the tour we were taken to the cellar for glasses of Laurent Perrier vintage champagne and hors dourves. This was followed by a four course dinner in La Terrasse, an elegant restaurant with exquisite French cuisine and piano entertainment and running 16 gualt millau points. Courses included Salmon tatare with bretzeli,caviar and herb salad followed by a soup of Fennel cuppuccino with saffron blossoms. The main course was a saddle of veal with star anise and chilli jus on risotto and topped with horns of plenty mushrooms. The final round was a tasting of plums dome three ways as a plum crumble, plum mousse and plum sorbet inside a delicate wafer bowl. Dinner was served with a variety of Swiss white and red wines which included Eppesses La Braise d'Enfer 2004 and a Pinot Noir Luzifer 2003. After dinner we were taken to the lobby bar where we were given our choice of after dinner drinks. I had a couple of glasses of a truly lush 1981 Vintage Calvados by Christian Drouin. My, my but the gods were smiling and so was I. As we were so full to the gills we took a walk around the streets of Interlaken, looked in the shops and stopped at a bar for a couple of beers before returning to the hotel for a short but well earned sleep.
We were up again by 7am for breakfast and departed at 08.30am to the rail station where we caught the scenic train over the mountain passes to Bergenstock. The scenery was truly awesome and the lakes were so clear and the water blue from the glacial melt. We were met again by the hotel pickup service and driven the 15 km's to the Burgenstock Park Hotel
The hotel is perched on the edge of 1000m high enscarpment overlooking the lake to Luzern in the east. We had a full tour of the property before taking lunch in their traditional swiss restaurant the Taverna. Lunch for me was a traditional Bouillon mit Fladle which is a clear consomme with fine shreds of pancake followed by a Rosti with bar-b-que pork fillet and herb butter. After lunch we walked the trail out east on the Felsenweg path for a scenic 2km forty-minute clifftop walk to Europe’s fastest outdoor elevator which makes the 100-metre trip up to the mountain station of the Bürgenstock (1,114 m above sea level) in just 55 seconds. It is a mindblowing ascent in a glass fronted elevator which rides in a steel cross member tower. The lift rises at 3.42 meters a second for the last 123 meters of the ascent. It was built by the Schindler company and I couldn't help but remark, " Ahh, so this must be Schindlers Lift!"
At the top we walked around the various lookouts, watched an aircraft flying by at head height towing a glider, observed a huge Zepplin cruising around the lake 500 meters below and took in the unfettered view of a miriad of yachts, launches and ferries plying the lake below. We had coffee at the restaurant before returning via the lift and by foot to the hotel where we then took the funicular rail or zahnrad bahn (tooth wheel train) to the lake below to catch the ferry to Luzern.
We were met at the station by Beate Makowsky the Sales Manager from The Victoria Jungfrau Grand Hotel and taken to the hotel. It is a Grand Hotel in the true tradition of palaces of its era and boasts a lot of art deco and magnificent ballrooms overhung with fabulous crystal chandeliers. It was the height of Victorian society and fashion to stay at these types of hotel by the aristocracy in turn of the century europe. They have just finished building a state of the art spa onto the rear of the hotel which also has a new wing of 12 suites. We were each given a stunning new suite of about 60 square meters, with Bang & Olufsen TV and stereo, big balconies with recliners and views to the peak of the Jungfrau, and bathroom big enough to accomodate a normal lounge room in marmotte marble and glass. Very modern and wonderfully comfortable with a full lounge sitting area and writing desk. Normally 900 swiss francs per night. For James and friends, free !!!! Gotta love that word.
We were given enough time to enjoy their new spa complex for 1.5 hrs and then we met in the lobby for a tour of the hotel and its facilities.
At the end of the tour we were taken to the cellar for glasses of Laurent Perrier vintage champagne and hors dourves. This was followed by a four course dinner in La Terrasse, an elegant restaurant with exquisite French cuisine and piano entertainment and running 16 gualt millau points. Courses included Salmon tatare with bretzeli,caviar and herb salad followed by a soup of Fennel cuppuccino with saffron blossoms. The main course was a saddle of veal with star anise and chilli jus on risotto and topped with horns of plenty mushrooms. The final round was a tasting of plums dome three ways as a plum crumble, plum mousse and plum sorbet inside a delicate wafer bowl. Dinner was served with a variety of Swiss white and red wines which included Eppesses La Braise d'Enfer 2004 and a Pinot Noir Luzifer 2003. After dinner we were taken to the lobby bar where we were given our choice of after dinner drinks. I had a couple of glasses of a truly lush 1981 Vintage Calvados by Christian Drouin. My, my but the gods were smiling and so was I. As we were so full to the gills we took a walk around the streets of Interlaken, looked in the shops and stopped at a bar for a couple of beers before returning to the hotel for a short but well earned sleep.
We were up again by 7am for breakfast and departed at 08.30am to the rail station where we caught the scenic train over the mountain passes to Bergenstock. The scenery was truly awesome and the lakes were so clear and the water blue from the glacial melt. We were met again by the hotel pickup service and driven the 15 km's to the Burgenstock Park Hotel
The hotel is perched on the edge of 1000m high enscarpment overlooking the lake to Luzern in the east. We had a full tour of the property before taking lunch in their traditional swiss restaurant the Taverna. Lunch for me was a traditional Bouillon mit Fladle which is a clear consomme with fine shreds of pancake followed by a Rosti with bar-b-que pork fillet and herb butter. After lunch we walked the trail out east on the Felsenweg path for a scenic 2km forty-minute clifftop walk to Europe’s fastest outdoor elevator which makes the 100-metre trip up to the mountain station of the Bürgenstock (1,114 m above sea level) in just 55 seconds. It is a mindblowing ascent in a glass fronted elevator which rides in a steel cross member tower. The lift rises at 3.42 meters a second for the last 123 meters of the ascent. It was built by the Schindler company and I couldn't help but remark, " Ahh, so this must be Schindlers Lift!"
At the top we walked around the various lookouts, watched an aircraft flying by at head height towing a glider, observed a huge Zepplin cruising around the lake 500 meters below and took in the unfettered view of a miriad of yachts, launches and ferries plying the lake below. We had coffee at the restaurant before returning via the lift and by foot to the hotel where we then took the funicular rail or zahnrad bahn (tooth wheel train) to the lake below to catch the ferry to Luzern.
23.11.05
Local Market
They had there big annual town market festival on the weekend just past here in Darmstadt. Lots of stalls with all the usual hand made hobby arts as well as a lot of baubels and trinkets.
The food stands offered a wide array of traditional German foods in the form of huge bratwursts and pudding type sausages as well as the endless arrays of continental bakery produce.
The big carousel was a real Magic Roundabout type of affair with the organ pipe music blaring out so loud that most of the kiddies were only screaming because they couldn’t hear themselves anymore and thought they had gone permenantly deaf. ( ``Hey Mum!, Hey Dad!, I’m not screaming with laughter and joy this really hurts you idiots and I’m getting really dizzy as well !!!)
They had the buskers out and about and most of them seem to have a piano accordion strapped on. Some of the gypsy traditional stuff is O.K. but the rest sounds like Happy Hammond Hour at the Sunset Hills Home for the Musically Bereft.
The food stands offered a wide array of traditional German foods in the form of huge bratwursts and pudding type sausages as well as the endless arrays of continental bakery produce.
The big carousel was a real Magic Roundabout type of affair with the organ pipe music blaring out so loud that most of the kiddies were only screaming because they couldn’t hear themselves anymore and thought they had gone permenantly deaf. ( ``Hey Mum!, Hey Dad!, I’m not screaming with laughter and joy this really hurts you idiots and I’m getting really dizzy as well !!!)
They had the buskers out and about and most of them seem to have a piano accordion strapped on. Some of the gypsy traditional stuff is O.K. but the rest sounds like Happy Hammond Hour at the Sunset Hills Home for the Musically Bereft.
19.10.05
In And Around Darmstadt
Looks as if I am destined to get back on a push bike as that seems to be the most common transport around the place. A lot of the bikes have little trailers attached to carry the shopping and even the kids. Mind you with the vast amount of cobble stone streets around here something with a bit of suspension would not go astray. The stones are bumpy enough in some sections to loosen your fillings.
Darmstadt is an interesting town in that it is recognised as the seat of sciences and arts in Germany. The university here is massive and very much given over to sciences. I had a walk around the main campus when I first arrived here and was amazed at the construction of the chemistry centre. The entire building has a steel girder exo-skelton that frames each level and upright. It is designed so as any massive explosions from within shall not damage the integrity of the building as a whole. Guess they must be tinkering with some fairly serious concoctions within.
The other major science item here is the European Space Operations Centre. The centre controls most of the sattelites that are launched by European countries for telecommunications and weather etc. one of its main control links globally is Perth in W.A..
Here’s one for any of you that have computers. The next time your Microsoft software hangs itself and crashes the appropriate comment is, ``Gone With The Windows``.
Darmstadt is an interesting town in that it is recognised as the seat of sciences and arts in Germany. The university here is massive and very much given over to sciences. I had a walk around the main campus when I first arrived here and was amazed at the construction of the chemistry centre. The entire building has a steel girder exo-skelton that frames each level and upright. It is designed so as any massive explosions from within shall not damage the integrity of the building as a whole. Guess they must be tinkering with some fairly serious concoctions within.
The other major science item here is the European Space Operations Centre. The centre controls most of the sattelites that are launched by European countries for telecommunications and weather etc. one of its main control links globally is Perth in W.A..
Here’s one for any of you that have computers. The next time your Microsoft software hangs itself and crashes the appropriate comment is, ``Gone With The Windows``.
10.9.05
A Tale Of Murder, Madness And The Oxford English Dictionary
I must briefly touch on a minor point of review as I have so many books that I feel I would like to share. I know that some months ago I mentioned Simon Winchesters novel, “The Surgeon Of Crowthorne”, a tale of murder, madness and The Oxford English Dictionary. The forerunner of his highly acclaimed, “The Map That Changed The World”. It is quite a remarkable story in as much as any book about the writing and compilation of a dictionary could be. The characters involved are both bizarre individuals and the events that lead to their quarter of a century long collaboration are profoundly strange. The two men worked tirelessly towards the same goal without ever meeting each other face to face until almost the time of their deaths. One man Dr James Murray, erudite and pious, a scholar in Oxford endowed with the task of compiling every English word and their illustrative quotations, the other Dr. W.C. Minor a retired, multi-millionaire, American army surgeon turned homicidal maniac, locked away in an institution for the criminally insane. His madness believed to have come from witnessing and working amidst the gruesome and bloody battlefields of the American Civil War. Confined to his prison in Crowthorne, Berkshire and despite his obviously declining mental stability, (e.g.: at one point he surgically slices off his own penis to stop the imaginary phantoms that plague him nightly from abusing him sexually any further), Minor remained stoically dedicated to rooting out hundreds of thousands of examples of words for inclusion in the great book to come. Together they laid the foundations for what still stands today as the most comprehensive collection of words and phrases ever assembled for any language, anywhere in the world. It is as sad as it is funny as it is bewildering in its enormity. The scale of the task versus the span of a human life and the race to achieve the virtually impossible within that remarkably small time span, all make for a tale worthy of telling. Winchester has again triumphed in crafting a story from subject matter that to my mind would be so very difficult to accurately and comprehensively describe and has succeeded admirably. Like his tale of the geological map-making, the enormity of the task belies comprehension. He picks his subject matter with an acute eye for the obscure bordering on the surreal. I have included some small excerpts verbatim from the book for you to facilitate your own conclusions.
“The Surgeon Of Crowthorne” by Simon Winchester.
Popular myth has it that one of the most remarkable conversations in modern history took place on a cool and misty late autumn afternoon in 1896, in the small village of Crowthorne in Berkshire.
One of the parties to the colloquy was the formidable Dr James Murray, the then editor of what was later to be called the Oxford English Dictionary. On the day in question he had travelled fifty miles by train from Oxford to meet an enigmatic figure named Dr W.C. Minor who was among the most prolific of the thousands of volunteer contributors whose labours lay at the core of the Dictionary’s creation.
For nearly twenty years beforehand these two men had corresponded regularly about the finer points of English lexicography. But they had never met. Minor seemed never willing or able to leave his home at Crowthorne, never willing to come to Oxford. He was unable to offer any kind of explanation, or do more than offer his regrets.
Murray, who himself was rarely free from the burdens of his work at the Scriptorium in Oxford, had none the less long dearly wished to see and to thank his mysterious and intriguing helper. And particularly so by the late 1890’s, with the dictionary now well on its way to being half completed: official honours were being showered down upon its creators, and Murray wanted to make sure that all those involved - even men so apparently bashful as Minor – were recognised for the valuable work they had done. He decided he would pay a visit; and the myth that came to surround that visit goes something like this.
Once he had made up his mind to go, he telegraphed his intentions, adding that he would find it most convenient to take a train that arrived at Crowthorne Station – then actually known as Wellington College Station, since it served the famous boys’ school sited in the village – just after two on a certain Wednesday in November. Minor sent a wire by return to say that he was indeed expected and would be made most welcome. On the journey from Oxford the weather was fine; the trains were on time; the auguries, in short, were good.
At the railway station a polished landau and a liveried coachman were waiting, and with James Murray aboard they clip-clopped back through he lanes of rural Berkshire. After twenty minutes or so the carriage turned into a long drive lined with tall poplars, drawing up eventually outside a huge and rather forbidding redbrick mansion. A solemn servant showed the lexicographer upstairs, and into a book lined study, where behind an immense mahogany desk stood a man of undoubted importance. Murray bowed gravely, and launched into the brief speech of greeting that he had so long rehearsed:
‘A very good afternoon to you sir. I am Dr James Murray of the London Philological Society, and editor of the New English Dictionary. It is indeed an honour and a pleasure to at long last make your acquaintance – for you must be , kind sir, my most assiduous helpmeet, Dr W.C. Minor?’
There was a brief pause, an air of momentary mutual embarrassment. A clock ticked loudly. There were muffled footsteps in the hall. A distant clank of keys. And then the man behind the desk cleared his throat, and he spoke.
‘I regret, kind sir, that I am not. It is not at all as you suppose. I am in fact the Superintendent of the Broadmoor Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Dr Minor is most certainly here. But he is an inmate. He has been a patient here for more than twenty years. He is our longest-staying resident.’
The official government files relating to this case are secret, and they have been locked away for more than a century. But I have recently been allowed to see them. What follows is the strange, tragic and spiritually uplifting story that they reveal.
With regards the Oxford English Dictionary as a work of art.
“The lonely drudgery of lexicography, the terrible undertow of words against which men like Murray and Minor had so ably struggled and stood, now had at last its great reward. Twelve mighty volumes; 414,825 words defined; 1,827,306 illustrative quotations used, to which Minor alone had contributed scores of thousands.
The total length of type – all handset, for the books were done by letterpress, still discernable in the delicately impressed feel of the inked-on paper – is 178 miles, the distance between London and Manchester. Discounting every punctuation mark and every space – which any printer knows occupies just as much time to set as does a single letter – there are no fewer than 227,779,589 letters and numbers.”
“This has been a story of an American soldier whose involvement in the making of the world’s greatest dictionary was singular, astonishing, memorable and laudable – and yet at the same time wretchedly sad.”
One must also not forget that the circumstances that placed Minor in the position from where he was able to contribute all his time and energy to the making of the OED began with his horrible and unforgivable commission of a murder. The murder of George Merrit left his wife Eliza and their six children in the direst of poverty in a gloomy Victorian era London.
It is a difficult book to bring into perspective other than to read it in its entirety. One other piece of information that was truly quirky was that the wife of the man whom Minor murdered was to become one of his most frequent visitors at the prison during his incarceration. He was eventually shipped home to America and placed permanently in a Washington asylum where he eventually died and not that long after the passing of James Murray. A great read and one that left me feeling more than a little amazed.
The latest version of the OED is available on CD-Rom for ₤178 or approx AUD$485. Given the time invested in its production and having read this book I would consider it the bargain of the century.
“The Surgeon Of Crowthorne” by Simon Winchester.
Popular myth has it that one of the most remarkable conversations in modern history took place on a cool and misty late autumn afternoon in 1896, in the small village of Crowthorne in Berkshire.
One of the parties to the colloquy was the formidable Dr James Murray, the then editor of what was later to be called the Oxford English Dictionary. On the day in question he had travelled fifty miles by train from Oxford to meet an enigmatic figure named Dr W.C. Minor who was among the most prolific of the thousands of volunteer contributors whose labours lay at the core of the Dictionary’s creation.
For nearly twenty years beforehand these two men had corresponded regularly about the finer points of English lexicography. But they had never met. Minor seemed never willing or able to leave his home at Crowthorne, never willing to come to Oxford. He was unable to offer any kind of explanation, or do more than offer his regrets.
Murray, who himself was rarely free from the burdens of his work at the Scriptorium in Oxford, had none the less long dearly wished to see and to thank his mysterious and intriguing helper. And particularly so by the late 1890’s, with the dictionary now well on its way to being half completed: official honours were being showered down upon its creators, and Murray wanted to make sure that all those involved - even men so apparently bashful as Minor – were recognised for the valuable work they had done. He decided he would pay a visit; and the myth that came to surround that visit goes something like this.
Once he had made up his mind to go, he telegraphed his intentions, adding that he would find it most convenient to take a train that arrived at Crowthorne Station – then actually known as Wellington College Station, since it served the famous boys’ school sited in the village – just after two on a certain Wednesday in November. Minor sent a wire by return to say that he was indeed expected and would be made most welcome. On the journey from Oxford the weather was fine; the trains were on time; the auguries, in short, were good.
At the railway station a polished landau and a liveried coachman were waiting, and with James Murray aboard they clip-clopped back through he lanes of rural Berkshire. After twenty minutes or so the carriage turned into a long drive lined with tall poplars, drawing up eventually outside a huge and rather forbidding redbrick mansion. A solemn servant showed the lexicographer upstairs, and into a book lined study, where behind an immense mahogany desk stood a man of undoubted importance. Murray bowed gravely, and launched into the brief speech of greeting that he had so long rehearsed:
‘A very good afternoon to you sir. I am Dr James Murray of the London Philological Society, and editor of the New English Dictionary. It is indeed an honour and a pleasure to at long last make your acquaintance – for you must be , kind sir, my most assiduous helpmeet, Dr W.C. Minor?’
There was a brief pause, an air of momentary mutual embarrassment. A clock ticked loudly. There were muffled footsteps in the hall. A distant clank of keys. And then the man behind the desk cleared his throat, and he spoke.
‘I regret, kind sir, that I am not. It is not at all as you suppose. I am in fact the Superintendent of the Broadmoor Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Dr Minor is most certainly here. But he is an inmate. He has been a patient here for more than twenty years. He is our longest-staying resident.’
The official government files relating to this case are secret, and they have been locked away for more than a century. But I have recently been allowed to see them. What follows is the strange, tragic and spiritually uplifting story that they reveal.
With regards the Oxford English Dictionary as a work of art.
“The lonely drudgery of lexicography, the terrible undertow of words against which men like Murray and Minor had so ably struggled and stood, now had at last its great reward. Twelve mighty volumes; 414,825 words defined; 1,827,306 illustrative quotations used, to which Minor alone had contributed scores of thousands.
The total length of type – all handset, for the books were done by letterpress, still discernable in the delicately impressed feel of the inked-on paper – is 178 miles, the distance between London and Manchester. Discounting every punctuation mark and every space – which any printer knows occupies just as much time to set as does a single letter – there are no fewer than 227,779,589 letters and numbers.”
“This has been a story of an American soldier whose involvement in the making of the world’s greatest dictionary was singular, astonishing, memorable and laudable – and yet at the same time wretchedly sad.”
One must also not forget that the circumstances that placed Minor in the position from where he was able to contribute all his time and energy to the making of the OED began with his horrible and unforgivable commission of a murder. The murder of George Merrit left his wife Eliza and their six children in the direst of poverty in a gloomy Victorian era London.
It is a difficult book to bring into perspective other than to read it in its entirety. One other piece of information that was truly quirky was that the wife of the man whom Minor murdered was to become one of his most frequent visitors at the prison during his incarceration. He was eventually shipped home to America and placed permanently in a Washington asylum where he eventually died and not that long after the passing of James Murray. A great read and one that left me feeling more than a little amazed.
The latest version of the OED is available on CD-Rom for ₤178 or approx AUD$485. Given the time invested in its production and having read this book I would consider it the bargain of the century.
8.8.05
Paddling Over Mountains
Here are some science notes I found on a recent trip. I found the information attractive as it squashed flat my own concepts of the seven seas and the way the world truly is. The article comes from a German scientist with a PhD in Physics named Horst Güntheroth but I have abbreviated it somewhat and changed some of the descriptive elements to make it easier to read. I wouldn’t want to bore you all to tears. He writes:
"Gravity commands the entire universe, brings the cosmos under control, keeps planets circling the sun and shapes gigantic galaxies. Gravity is an elementary property of mass. All mass exercises an attraction and the greater the mass, the stronger the attraction. Yet the gravity of our earth is not equally strong in all directions. The reason for this is that the rocks deep within the planet’s core are unevenly distributed. More mass has accumulated in one place, less in another. Such anomalies make their presence felt on the ocean, for instance.
In areas where the gravitational pull is powerful, there are dips in the surface of the ocean, whilst in places where the pull is less pronounced, hills rise up out of the sea. To the south of India, for instance, there is a hollow in the ocean surface 360 feet deep and close to Papua New Guinea the sea swells 260 feet skyward. A ship sailing from such a hill into such a velley would pass through a difference in elevation of 620 feet.
As for objects further away from the planets surface such as aircraft high up above 10,000 mtrs the gravitational forces are not as strong. The pull of the earth diminishes the further away you travel from its surface, another side effect which causes this reduction is that effect of gravitational force is lost in the up and down pressure fluctuations in the atmosphere enveloping our planet. As a result when gravity wains down below, the difference in the altitude of the aircraft is at most 2 or 3 cm – at any rate, too little for anyone to notice."
Cool, heh ! If you were paddling your canoe across the ocean in the wrong direction you would have to be wondering what was giving as you to tried to paddle up a 620 feet hill. What a mongrel ! It would make for a tough days fishing expedition. It would be like trying to paddle over the Rialto Towers in Melbourne or Sydney‘s Centrepoint.
"Gravity commands the entire universe, brings the cosmos under control, keeps planets circling the sun and shapes gigantic galaxies. Gravity is an elementary property of mass. All mass exercises an attraction and the greater the mass, the stronger the attraction. Yet the gravity of our earth is not equally strong in all directions. The reason for this is that the rocks deep within the planet’s core are unevenly distributed. More mass has accumulated in one place, less in another. Such anomalies make their presence felt on the ocean, for instance.
In areas where the gravitational pull is powerful, there are dips in the surface of the ocean, whilst in places where the pull is less pronounced, hills rise up out of the sea. To the south of India, for instance, there is a hollow in the ocean surface 360 feet deep and close to Papua New Guinea the sea swells 260 feet skyward. A ship sailing from such a hill into such a velley would pass through a difference in elevation of 620 feet.
As for objects further away from the planets surface such as aircraft high up above 10,000 mtrs the gravitational forces are not as strong. The pull of the earth diminishes the further away you travel from its surface, another side effect which causes this reduction is that effect of gravitational force is lost in the up and down pressure fluctuations in the atmosphere enveloping our planet. As a result when gravity wains down below, the difference in the altitude of the aircraft is at most 2 or 3 cm – at any rate, too little for anyone to notice."
Cool, heh ! If you were paddling your canoe across the ocean in the wrong direction you would have to be wondering what was giving as you to tried to paddle up a 620 feet hill. What a mongrel ! It would make for a tough days fishing expedition. It would be like trying to paddle over the Rialto Towers in Melbourne or Sydney‘s Centrepoint.
21.7.05
Darmstadt Philharmonic Orchestra With Wolfgang Seeliger
Last weekend I went to see the Darmstadt Philharmonic, conducted by Wolfgang Seeliger, performing Handel’s Firework Music. As Alfred and Margarite shouted me last year, it was my turn to reciprocate the gesture.
Set on the Woog lake like last years concert when they performed Handel’s Water Music, the orchestra was positioned on a large pontoon off shore from the island where everyone was seated. It was a splendid evening considering that for the three evenings prior to the Saturday night we had had some fairly heavy downpours during the night. The weather held up magnificently and the opening prelude was accompanied by a glorious crimson and rose pink sunset in the background. Colours shifting through the red spectrum band as gently and smoothly as the strains of music wafting on the breeze across the unruffled inky blackness of the Woog‘s water. All so very serene and tranquil.
They had a Berlin dance troupe in attendance that specialises in 17th century ballroom choreography. The dancers were all dressed in period costume and they performed a variety of dances to each of the symphonies movements. The orchestra was positioned on either side of the pontoon with the central area being left clear for the dancers.
The Cinderella era would give a better mental perspective of the costuming. The wowdered pigs gobbed in beity....I mean....the powdered wigs bobbed in gaiety. Bum cack, bum cack you’ve slopped your dripper....I mean....come back, come back you’ve dropped your slipper. Symphony music is just so-so serious after all...ahem.
In the last movement they really cut loose with the fireworks which were positioned on the far side of The Woog on the 10m diving board and around its base. The diving tower became a curtain shower of gold and silver whilst the skies over head boomed and cracked amidst the flowering blooms of iridescent psychedelia that fanned out across the whole reserve. As with last year they had many stalls serving food, champagne and beer which we availed ourselves of in civilised moderation. (Aghast, I never thought I would ever utter those two words in the same sentence!) All told it was a very nice evening and the overall performance was outstanding by both musicians and dancers alike.
Set on the Woog lake like last years concert when they performed Handel’s Water Music, the orchestra was positioned on a large pontoon off shore from the island where everyone was seated. It was a splendid evening considering that for the three evenings prior to the Saturday night we had had some fairly heavy downpours during the night. The weather held up magnificently and the opening prelude was accompanied by a glorious crimson and rose pink sunset in the background. Colours shifting through the red spectrum band as gently and smoothly as the strains of music wafting on the breeze across the unruffled inky blackness of the Woog‘s water. All so very serene and tranquil.
They had a Berlin dance troupe in attendance that specialises in 17th century ballroom choreography. The dancers were all dressed in period costume and they performed a variety of dances to each of the symphonies movements. The orchestra was positioned on either side of the pontoon with the central area being left clear for the dancers.
The Cinderella era would give a better mental perspective of the costuming. The wowdered pigs gobbed in beity....I mean....the powdered wigs bobbed in gaiety. Bum cack, bum cack you’ve slopped your dripper....I mean....come back, come back you’ve dropped your slipper. Symphony music is just so-so serious after all...ahem.
In the last movement they really cut loose with the fireworks which were positioned on the far side of The Woog on the 10m diving board and around its base. The diving tower became a curtain shower of gold and silver whilst the skies over head boomed and cracked amidst the flowering blooms of iridescent psychedelia that fanned out across the whole reserve. As with last year they had many stalls serving food, champagne and beer which we availed ourselves of in civilised moderation. (Aghast, I never thought I would ever utter those two words in the same sentence!) All told it was a very nice evening and the overall performance was outstanding by both musicians and dancers alike.
4.7.05
Introducing The Amazing Fibonacci
Now for a bit of math that some of you will no doubt have seen but once again I have only come across it for the first time recently and I found it quite intriguing.
If you take the number 135, take the first digit to the power of 1, the square of the second and the cube of the third you get the same number again.
135 = 11 + 32 + 53 = 135
the next one in this type of sequence is
175 = 11 + 72 + 53 = 175
a slightly different variation on this theme is
136 = 13 + 33 + 63 = 244
now repeat the process and you get the number you first thought of
244 = 23 + 43 + 43 = 136
The mathematician Fibonacci had imagined a pair of rabbits which produced two off-spring every month, off-spring which began to breed at exactly the same rate one month after birth and asked how many pairs of rabbits would there be after one year. The answer is 144 but the number of pairs of rabbits each month was the most famous sequence of numbers in mathematics: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144. You could always work out the next number in the sequence by adding up the previous two. After 40 months there would be 102,334,105 pairs. That’s some kind of infestation. Just some thing to play with and think about.
If you take the number 135, take the first digit to the power of 1, the square of the second and the cube of the third you get the same number again.
135 = 11 + 32 + 53 = 135
the next one in this type of sequence is
175 = 11 + 72 + 53 = 175
a slightly different variation on this theme is
136 = 13 + 33 + 63 = 244
now repeat the process and you get the number you first thought of
244 = 23 + 43 + 43 = 136
The mathematician Fibonacci had imagined a pair of rabbits which produced two off-spring every month, off-spring which began to breed at exactly the same rate one month after birth and asked how many pairs of rabbits would there be after one year. The answer is 144 but the number of pairs of rabbits each month was the most famous sequence of numbers in mathematics: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144. You could always work out the next number in the sequence by adding up the previous two. After 40 months there would be 102,334,105 pairs. That’s some kind of infestation. Just some thing to play with and think about.
28.6.05
Monty Python At The Pfungstadter Brewery
We had another birthday a few weeks back as Bettina’s father Alfred celebrated his. We travelled down to Heppenheim on the Sunday where we enjoyed a flute or two of champagne for brunch before heading out to a local Greek restaurant for a slap up lunch with dips, platters of Greek style bbq meats and salads. I recount all told there were 18 of us. Great lunch that we walked off afterwards with a hike to the top of one of the local hills through the surrounding vineyards.
At the top is a 17th century stone tower, which affords stunning views sweeping back along the length of the Odenwald and out to the west and the Rhine River. Quite a hot day as well which saw us being extremely glad to flop into well-shaded deck chairs under the spreading boughs of the ancient plum tree in Alfred’s backyard on our return.
Fruit is so abundant at this time of the year and amidst the odd cooling ale I found time to wander aimlessly in and around the yard sampling cherries, plums and wild strawberries from the garden.
We ended up leaving in the late afternoon to travel back to Darmstadt and the Pfungstadter brewery open day, which was being held just north of town. They had several bands playing on different sound stages and there were a few close calls with calamity, stepping our way through the human minefield of pissed and legless locals each armed with large glasses of foaming pilsner.
A local town brass band stationed near the entry point was playing the theme from Monty Pythons Flying Circus, which was a source of great amusement to Thomas who is a first class fan of the show. It was a welcoming fanfare that left us both in hysterics and the ensuing laughter was hard to suppress for the rest of the afternoon. All in all a great day.
At the top is a 17th century stone tower, which affords stunning views sweeping back along the length of the Odenwald and out to the west and the Rhine River. Quite a hot day as well which saw us being extremely glad to flop into well-shaded deck chairs under the spreading boughs of the ancient plum tree in Alfred’s backyard on our return.
Fruit is so abundant at this time of the year and amidst the odd cooling ale I found time to wander aimlessly in and around the yard sampling cherries, plums and wild strawberries from the garden.
We ended up leaving in the late afternoon to travel back to Darmstadt and the Pfungstadter brewery open day, which was being held just north of town. They had several bands playing on different sound stages and there were a few close calls with calamity, stepping our way through the human minefield of pissed and legless locals each armed with large glasses of foaming pilsner.
A local town brass band stationed near the entry point was playing the theme from Monty Pythons Flying Circus, which was a source of great amusement to Thomas who is a first class fan of the show. It was a welcoming fanfare that left us both in hysterics and the ensuing laughter was hard to suppress for the rest of the afternoon. All in all a great day.
19.6.05
Smart Mice And A Peeved Cat
We have been getting quite a few mice arriving since the weather warmed up. We have a neat little wire cage trap with a spring loaded door which catches them but doesn’t hurt them. We then release the little suckers in the bushes up the road. A couple of the fatter ones looked extremely familiar on the 4th and 5th catch and we suspect that they were the same mice come back again.
Cunningly we marked their tails with Tippex white out to track them if they came back. Five mice in a couple of days and now not a single one since the Tippex program began. I reckon the little blighters are a good deal smarter than we give them credit for. Cheeky little mongrels are probably waiting for the Tippex to wear off before coming back.
Despite numerous attempts to capture them with various types of cheese, salami, and raisins we discovered in the end that as soon as we put freshly shelled walnuts in the cage they turned up one after the other. Looks like we have discovered the ultimate mouse bait.
The cat from next door, Ganja, had a spitzen Maus in its mouth the other day which is quite a rare type of field mouse that we get here. They have a long and very pointy snout which has a nose resembling a miniature red cherry on the end. Really cute. Quite the Walt Disney door-mouse doppelganger. Thomas had quite a time getting the mouse away from Ganja but eventually succeeded. Needless to say we were instantly relegated to the bad books by Ganja who failed for three days running to make her customary morning and nightly house inspections. Really had her own nose well out of joint. Normally she will be on the prowl anytime there is something fishy smelling on the cook but even a tuna salad wafting on the breeze from the garden table failed to break her out of her snoot. C’est la Guerre !!
Cunningly we marked their tails with Tippex white out to track them if they came back. Five mice in a couple of days and now not a single one since the Tippex program began. I reckon the little blighters are a good deal smarter than we give them credit for. Cheeky little mongrels are probably waiting for the Tippex to wear off before coming back.
Despite numerous attempts to capture them with various types of cheese, salami, and raisins we discovered in the end that as soon as we put freshly shelled walnuts in the cage they turned up one after the other. Looks like we have discovered the ultimate mouse bait.
The cat from next door, Ganja, had a spitzen Maus in its mouth the other day which is quite a rare type of field mouse that we get here. They have a long and very pointy snout which has a nose resembling a miniature red cherry on the end. Really cute. Quite the Walt Disney door-mouse doppelganger. Thomas had quite a time getting the mouse away from Ganja but eventually succeeded. Needless to say we were instantly relegated to the bad books by Ganja who failed for three days running to make her customary morning and nightly house inspections. Really had her own nose well out of joint. Normally she will be on the prowl anytime there is something fishy smelling on the cook but even a tuna salad wafting on the breeze from the garden table failed to break her out of her snoot. C’est la Guerre !!