Wednesday, January 31, 2007

TV Digitalis

I didn't have to wait until 2010 to get digital TV! I am so happy about that, mainly because I can use Pete's Christmas present to watch oodles of rubbish on the box that never stops.

My downstairs neighbours informed me - via the post - that a TV engineer was coming to make an adjustment to the outside aerial this week. The only access to the roof is through my bathroom, so my cooperation was necessary. Fortunately for them, and everyone else in the flat, I have harboured the same agenda for weeks. So we are now all speaking the same language. German.

I got home to find the flat completely gutted, but the digital TV works, so it's all good. I turned it on, did some channel surfing and found the Sugababes on The Hits. That took me back to Christmas in December in December, it did. I come over all misty eyed, like. I think I spotted The Mummy on one of the other channels, so there is hope. But not for me.

My new homepage will become www.whatsontv.co.uk. Oh look, Never Mind the Buzzcocks is back tonight on BBC2. I could already get that channel, but I can now watch it in digi format. Whee!

Better throw in this quote from Rammstein's Sonne, because it may not be appropriate for much longer:

Hier kommt die sonne
Sie is der hellste stern von allen

Bis später...

Monday, January 29, 2007

Quality

I've decided that if you're going to be a solipsist, you need a single-minded approach. That is my soul contribution to 2 cent philosophy.

Weather remaining fine, so this past weekend was a chance to do some quality miles and get in some quality drinking. On Saturday I set off early to do some extras before hooking up with the Chippenham group. Alas, we were delayed by two punctures (and I had two before I even left the house). It's just not a good time of year for bike bits.

The bunch grew and then shrank at the end, as people turned off and/or were dropped. With about 10 km to go, the roads make it possible to lift the pace, and it duly happened. I hung back for a bit and tried to tow a few people across to the six in front who were going fairly hard, but whenever we hit a small rise, they couldn't follow. I started chasing, but the six had become two in front with four in bits behind. No point in waiting for the bits, so I went across to the two in front, who were somewhat surprised to see me.

"Do you race?" asked Andy, the bigger bloke.
"I've done a bit," says me.

Anyway, it was good, because the other guy, Will, invited me to ride with him on Sundy. He's an RAF PE instructor and works about 2 hours a week, running a gym in his spare time and riding in his other spare time. He'd also done a bit of racing in Brittany as a young 'un, and was pretty experienced.

We did a really solid 130 km ride through the Mendips: 2000m of climbing at 28km/h average, with a bit of wind. We did three moderately big (3-4 km) climbs, starting with Cheddar Gorge, which is a beautiful climb. Not only is the scenery reminiscent of a small Dolomite, you also get to see mountain goats on the road as you go up. And best of all, the climb gets flatter and flatter towards the top. It might be the venue for the British hill climb championships this year. Cool!

We also did the nastier one out of Wookey Hole, which averages over 8% for 2 km, and finally we went up Barrington Coombe, which is just under 6% for about 4 km. By the time we headed home, my legs were aching, but at least we had a tailwind. But I felt sorry for Will, who had to spend the rest of the day standing around in handbag shops with his girlfriend. That is one thing I don't have to cope with :-)

Will reckoned I should do the Severn Bridge road race in March, 'cos I'd have a decent chance (it's over laps of a hilly circuit). I might, unless it clashes with Het Volk. I'm planning on a Belgian visit then.

That plan was hatched on Saturday night, when I caught up with John for some beers. We ended up at The Bell, and I suggested Duvels. It was all good, and we covered a lot of ground over a fair quantity of beer. I gained some enlightenment, and was able to find closure (of sorts) on Monday.

Holy hell, it's time for University Challenge!

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Moving (work) lodgings

A whole week of sun. I cannot beloive it. Temps are on the coolish side, but it beats getting wet. So I have upped my kilometrage by 5 km/day to take advantage of the new Light.

Today we moved three bike mags and all us online types across to the south wing of Quay House. The mags had an incredible amount of kit to pack up and shift, while we got away with one box and a few computers. Our new quarters are a bit less spacious, but there's more light, which is nice. I have built a superstructure of trays to block it out, but they also serve as a partial defence against rubber bands coming from the MBUK area. And our vending machine still serves the 2007 equivalent of Victory Coffee.

Speaking of which, I'm getting through 1984, and it's an extremely good read. Of course it's also rather disturbing, because of how relevant a lot of it is to today's society. Doublespeak and doublethink are everywhere, not to mention the Thought Police.

I'm also getting into Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail. It's taken me a while, but it's now moving along at a quicker pace, and it gets better when things get out of hand. A pity Hunter S. committed suicide last year, but he reckoned he lived 17 years too long anyway.

Postscript: Why is Davros at the World Economic Forum?

Monday, January 22, 2007

Cemetery ride

This Monday was supposedly the most depressing day of the year in the UK. Wheee! Don't ask me why, because I didn't finishing watching the end of Declan's BBC morning news bit. But I would guess it's because it's winter, it's dark, and you haven't been paid for five weeks because of the Christmas break. Anyway, I didn't think it was that bad.

After reading a fair chunk of 1984 over the weekend, I submitted an extended version of my Big Brother blog for posting on the Company's intranet. On the one hand it was current with respect to the racism debate, but on the other hand it had bugger all to do with Future. However, I could work in references to previous company blog postings, e.g. "1984 and all that", and "Brave New World". But my editor thought it would go over most people's heads anyway, so it's going in the 'couldabeen' bucket.

What I will do is put a label on our floor's vending machine that says "Victory Coffee". I'll have to do that at the end of the week, because we're moving into the south wing and will have a different vending machine. Coffee quality remains the same.

The graveyard shift

I tagged along with the Chippenham cemetery ride on Saturday, just for something different. There were perhaps 30 of us, split into two groups, and we "chain ganged" it for about 60 km on back roads north east of Chippenham. It was windy - not insane, but still 40-50 km/h - so it was hard to keep a position in the group. It was nice to average around 30, too. That's harder than it sounds around here, and it's probably difficult to go more than a few km/h faster than that on these roads.

There was a Colombian guy with us in shorts(!) who attacked a few times, coincidentally when I was on the front. The last time he went into a block headwind on a false flat, and things split up a bit. I rolled through for a turn or two with a couple of others, but then he turned off home! Anyway, we regrouped and cruised back to Corsham, then home.

On the way home, three of us took the back way through Neston, which is normally dead quiet. But there was a full on hunt on, with horses, men and women in red jackets and hunting caps, and about a hundred following Landrovers. They were all over the road, without regard for us, so we just had to squeeze past and try not to get kicked by a horse.

Ben and Pete, the other two guys with me, expressed their annoyance at 'hunting' in no uncertain terms. Apparently it's banned, so what they do is drag a carcass around so that the horses and dogs can follow a scent. That would be OK if they stayed out of your way, let alone all the wannabe idiots who follow at 10km/h in their silly cars. Grr.

On Sunday, I went out with a smaller, harder core of Chippenham people and did another 100 km in the wind. I have been asked to join their club, so I probably will, as it's nearly 300 members strong and needs more able bodies. Their first pissup social gathering is on the 7th of Feb, so I'm there baby. They have TTs on Wednesday evenings in what passes for summer here, as well as circuit racing on Thursdays and you can always find a road race on Sunday. I wouldn't mind doing a bit of proper road racing with hills and stuff.

Saving the best for last, here is the weather update. It's theoretically sunny at the moment, which explains why it was raining when I stepped out the door this morning. I saw several lunatics riding in shorts, so they obviously took the met office at its word and have no concept of cold. But it should remain dry this week, as the wind has turned around to the north. Of course that means the temp has dropped to freezing and there's supposedly snow predicted for tomorrow morning.

Whee!!

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Big Brother is being watched

The UK is now officially in chaos. Not just because it's winter, which has a tendency to bugger things up all over, but because one of the contestants on Big Brother has been accused of racism. Shocking.

This appals me on several levels. Firstly, that this story is considered to be as newsworthy as Saddam Hussein's hanging, given the amount of coverage it's received. It's about a reality TV show for god's sake. Called Big Brother! The irony is that the Thought Police have come out in their thousands over this one. Life imitates art in a twisted way.

OK, I'm not going to go as far as calling Big Brother art. Especially without having watched it. To be honest, I'm still stuck on the meaning of "Reality TV show". In real life, Leo Sayer would not be sharing a house with Donny Tourette and Ken Russell. But it's now happened, so it must be real. It's the sort of thing that will (really) bake your noodle.

Going back to winter news, today was the windiest day so far. Average wind speed 75 km/h, which means it was a bit blowy. I stuck to the bike path, when I wasn't being blown off it. It goes without saying that it's been raining every day since Sunday, but I'll mention it anyway.

It's not all bad. My Sony MDR-XD400 headphones are bloody amazing, and worth the £70. The sound quality is a lot better than my fairly cheap but OK Altec subwoofer+speakers. The stereo goes right through your head, and you can pick out an incredible amount of sound detail. I can also listen at an acceptable volume and not annoy the neighbours even more than I've done already. It's been quite liberating, as I don't like not being able to listen to music.

"You had to live - did live, from habit that became instinct - in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized." - George Orwell, 1984.

A couple of us went to The Bell and The Star for a few quiet ones yesterday. There was a decent (and fairly loud) 12 piece band playing in The Bell, I think hailing from the Ukraine. The drummer looked to be doing most of the work, while the trombone/trumpet volunteer/stone saxophone/leather euphonium piped up at odd intervals. But they had a good, upbeat jazzy sound.

Random thought, continuing on from the Neon Genesis Evangelion theme: The Nintendo Wii is obviously the next step towards being able to pilot your very own Evangelion. If that comes to pass, I'm going to predict that the Angels that attack Tokyo-3 are unavoidably delayed by train cancellations between Bristol and Bath.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Engel

There's nothing like a good dose of sunshine and Rammstein to get your blood boiling. I picked up Sehnsucht for a mere seven quid today. Yeah. And I've now got the necessary headphones. The neighbours will never know!


The Neon Genesis Evangelion version of Engel/YouTube. Note: Asuka (red haired girl) is three-quarters Deutsch. She is fighting an Angel in this clip, and the song is therefore appropriate.

The VC Walcot ride was OK, if a little tardy. The good thing about it was that it was well organised, sociable, and we went south east - a bit of a first for me. And we even got a "Hi boys" from a coupla girls as we headed out of town. Now that's definitely a first.

But when we climbed Kingsdown more than three minutes slower than I did it last week (in the dark and rain too) and had an average of approximately 23 km/h after two hours and were still dropping people, I realised that I may need a slightly faster bunch. I was chatting to one guy when we were going easy and we compared heart rates: his was 125 and mine was 80.

The only chance to open up the throttle was at the end when everyone started attacking on the last hill into Bath up Midford Rd. It split to bits, and I dropped back and made sure everyone was OK, then had a go in the big ring. I estimated 420W for four minutes and it felt very good - that's about my best estimated power on the Trap Op, and it's bloody winter. Then there's a really nice descent into Bath down the Wells road. I'll get a pic of the view on of these days. Next week, I'll probably try the Chippenham cemetery ride, or Mat Brett's small group.

BBC Wildlife docos are excellent. I watched one called Trek and it was not about the bike. It was about Wildebeest migrating across Africa and getting eaten by crocs, lions, hyenas, cheetahs, and leopards. The crocs seemed to have the best hit/miss ratio. But the lions were amazingly cool - when a hyena tried to steal their food, one of the males exerted his authoritaah. Net result: a negative Hyena.

I learned an interesting fact, too. A baby wildebeest calf learns to walk in FOUR MINUTES. Because then it has to run away from a hyena. This is why you should keep fit over winter.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Llangybi

Llangybi, to prove I went there. This is the main road, and the T-junction points to its other road. A truly magnificent megalopolis.
© Jeff Jones


Despite favourable forecasts, it was wet on my Saturday excursion to Llangybi. Not raining the whole time wet, but just showers every now and again, with a nice strong sou' westerly. It doesn't bother me any more, because that's the norm rather than the exception here.

I ventured across the Severn bridge some 30 km into Welsh territory, and very nice Wales was too. It's not as densely populated as my bit of England, the hills are a bit bigger, and the roads are in better shape. There was some nice new tarmac on one of them as I dropped into the valley where Llangybi is situated. That helped with the bike control, given that I wore my front brake pads down to the metal (replaced now). It was a bugger to come back up: 1.8 km at 10 percent average, and the first bit isn't that steep.

The objective of the ride was to find the birthplace of great grandfather Gwyllim, which I did so without even getting lost, even though my paper and sticky tape sat-nav system was not particularly useful in the rain. I have to say that great grandfather Gwyllim was wise (beyond his years) to leave Llangybi for Australia, because it's a bit of a dump. I doubt whether the fibro houses were there in his day, but still... As I left hurriedly after taking pics, I thought that it lacked a certain olde worlde charm.

Usk, a few miles north, was much nicer. Unfortunately I couldn't tarry as I wanted to get my sodden self home as soon as possible. I stopped a couple more times, once when I almost saw the sun, and once when I left Cymru, because I had to get a pic of the Severn bridge. It's 2.7 km long, and therefore an engineering mantelpiece.

Ride stats: 148 km in 5'20 @ 135bpm and 1900m of climbing. Tomorrow...VC Walcot!

Weather remains fine.

The heart-stopping 20m descent into Llangybi
© Jeff Jones

On the way back, I spotted some sun...there!
© Jeff Jones

Fairly typical of the road conditions at the moment
© Jeff Jones

The Severn, however it's spelled
© Jeff Jones

Luckily, there was a bridge, or I would have gotten wetter
© Jeff Jones

Friday, January 12, 2007

Stuff

So ends another week in bustling Bath, and it is bustling at the moment. It must be all this unseasonably hot weather, which when combined with a lot of wind and rain, has made for some enjoyable cycling. This week, I've ridden through shin-deep puddles and collected a lot of mud for posterity my posterior.

It is now dry, so I do intend to go to Llangybi this weekend and find the birthplace of great grandfather Gwyllim. Then I might even go out with the nascent VC Walcot on Sunday. Let's see if they have got it together more than the Bath CC boys. There's also a couple of other Saturday options: go out on the Chippenham cemetery ride or do Mat Brett's (C+ editor) small group ride. But that'll have to wait until next week, as I have a mission to get to Wales.

I am continuing my education. I learned how to effectively libel people this week, and I've also signed up for a course in novel writing at Bath Uni. Or is that a novel course in writing? Or is that the Uni of Bath? It's like the People's Front of Ba'ath and the Ba'ath People's Front. I'm sure right-minded readers will be able to tell the difference. Continuing on from that, is it a test of your sanity whether you're able to spot libel? My lawyer advises me that I need to adjourn to a JK Rowling approved bar to consider that one.

[A pause for Staropramens. Due to the backwards and forwards nature of writing, this pause may have happened earlier in the blog.]

I note that England is continuing its mighty run in Australia, losing the Ashes 5-0, then getting thrashed in both the 20-20 and the one dayer. I'm beginning to lose interest in cricket again.

In other old news, I worked out why I was so disheartened at being stopped in the street by a charity worker last week. I will hasten to point out that I was not heartless, as I did sign up for the charity (I had no justifiable reason not to), but it left a bitter aftertaste. I had no personal objection to the bloke who stopped me, nor the charity, nor charity in general. But I don't like the fact that when you are stopped by someone on that particular street, it's only because they want your money. In Gent, by contrast, they generally ask for directions.

It all relates to the breakdown of society into a collection of individuals. Well OK, that probably happened a long time ago. But I now understand why the iPod (now iPhone, subject to Cisco lawsuit) holds such sway here, because it allows you to be completely isolated from everyone around you, even in a crowded London tube. I don't do enough commuting or have enough 'dead time' to get one, but maybe it'd be handy to avoid being collared on Milsom Street.

Finally, I'd better review Helen Garner and the Meaning of Everything, by (uncle) Alex Jones. Disclaimer: that qualifies me as possibly being biased, but I'll give my opinion anyway. I really enjoyed the book, and would have enjoyed it even more had I read anything by Helen Garner. It's gunna appeal to the linguists out there, as well as the right-minded reader.

The defence must rest, m'lud.

Monday, January 08, 2007

Spot the difference

Let's see if this works. By the power of YouTube(tm), I command the following videos to appear! [Much smoke and bright lights. Keyboard is ruined. Scroll down for explanatory notes]


Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack


Bitter Sweet Symphony of Life by The Verve


Vindaloo by Fat Les


F.E.A.R by Ian Brown

By way of explanation, I reached this point after a very soggy weekend. In the end, everything is down to the climate, and now is no exception. Although it's comparatively warm (up to 11 degrees) at the moment, it's also comparatively wet. The wind is expected to get stronger this week, too.

That meant that my ride on Saturday had to be curtailed to a mere 70 km, on account of it raining the whole bloody time. No matter how much gear you wear, once you're wet through, you get cold very quickly. I'll have to try my trick of wearing disposable gloves underneath my winter gloves. It's the only way.

When I went into town afterwards, it was still raining. This was compounded by the billion or so tourists that visit Bath on the weekends, meaning you have to barge your way through the crowds (in the wet) in the manner of Rick Deckard from Blade Runner. It was raining the whole bloody time in that movie too, which is why I like it.

Fast forward (or just press play) to Sunday, when I did my Mendips ride to Wells and back, going the opposite way than I did before Christmas, and not getting quite as muddy. It didn't rain so much, but the roads were sodden, which meant I was as well. 1500m of climbing in 100 km. I'm lucky to average over 27 km/h these days.

When I got back, I had a look at where I'd gone on Memory Map, then scrolled across a bit until I found Portishead, which is on the west coast just south of Bristol. I'll go there soon enough, but I was interested because the band of the same name hails from around that area. That took me to Wikipedia and before I knew it, I had 10 articles open on the Bristol music scene.

One of these was Massive Attack, whose Unfinished Sympathy often appears on greatest songs of all time lists. I know the song, but don't remember the video, so that took me to YouTube where I found the first of the clips above.

According to Wikipedia, The Verve's Bitter Sweet Symphony of Life was a bit of a tribute to the Massive Attack video and song, i.e. one person walking down the street rather heedlessly, symphony/sympathy in the title, and strings in the song. I'd never made the connection before. It's obvious when you see it, of course.

Furthermore, The Verve's clip also reminded me a bit of Rick Deckard in Blade Runner, except that it wasn't raining and Richard Ashcroft wasn't trying to retire replicants. But he was running into people.

Furthermore and furthermore, the song samples a bit of The Last Time by the Rolling Stones. That led to a copyright dispute, which ended up with Keith Richards and Mick Jagger being credited for the song (even though they didn't write a word of it) and ABKCO (which owns the rights to the Rolling Stones '60s stuff) for the rest. No wonder The Verve split up. OK, I just threw that in for good measure.

Then there was Fat Les's takeoff of The Verve, with Vindaloo, which was played as an English anthem during the 1998 football world cup. So I found that on YouTube as well.

Scrolling sideways, I realised that Ian Brown's F.E.A.R video and song was related to the first two as well. Except he's on a lowrider, going backwards through Soho, in a similar manner to Lucy a year and a half ago, except she was going forwards. And F.E.A.R also uses strings.

It's cool what you can do with so much time on your hands! OK, maybe not...

But never fear, I did get out and writ another 2000 words of my door wedge. And had a stupidly hot curry that I made myself. It was only because I emptied a whole container of hot curry powder into the wok that it turned out searing hot. I did that about 15 years ago with a whole jar of green curry paste and forced myself to eat it all, drinking a litre of milk to cut the burn.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Stockholm syndrome

Stockholm de la nuit
© Jeff Jones


In booking my ticket to Stockholm, I had set my sights on flying from Luton airport, north west of London. Why? Because it was closer than Stansted airport. Unfortunately, when I got to Luton airport on a rainy Friday morning, I was faced with a small dilemma: I was at Luton, but the aeroplane was going to leave from Stansted.

This wasn't a fault of Ryanair in any way. It was mine for not actually reading my flight itinerary. I only did so while ingesting a fine foodstuff from the Luton airport cafe, which combined with a largish cappuccino made for a truly epicurean experience (You may detect a hint of sarcasm there). So after gulping down the rest of my beverage, I decided on a course of Action.

"How long will it take you to drive me to Stansted," I asked a taxi driver.

"About 45-50 minutes," came the reply. "And it'll cost you about 68-70 quid."

There was no other way to do it in time, and I got in. We drove at high speed for an hour and five minutes and I can tell you that Stansted is in the middle of bloody nowhere. It did come to £68, but I made the flight - just.

The airport security is even more ridiculous than it ever has been. You can't take liquids on board that are in containers of more than 100 mL. So 120 mL of liquid explosive is banned, but 100 mL is OK, as long as you put all the containers in a clear plastic bag. And you've now got to take off your shoes, in case you are trying to impersonate Rosa Klebb or something.

Clearly, the terrorists have won.

Välkommen Till Sverige

The flight was uneventful, except that I somehow managed to sit in a row of five gay Portuguese guys, who spent a large part of the trip flirting with the flight steward. He didn't seem to mind, but anyway.

The main reason for my trip was to visit my friend and occasional colleague Gabbi, who lives in Stockholm together with her boyfriend Robin and a large and growing number of birds, fish, and even a sugar glider. They'd recently come back from Brazil, and Gabbi also did a three month trip to Africa this year. All this in between working three jobs!

After my eighth transport connection, I finally made it to their apartment and enjoyed some fine vegetarian cuisine and some loud noises from the parrot.

Entering the menagerie
© Jeff Jones
Gabbi and parrot
© Jeff Jones


The next day, we headed into Stockholm for a look-see, and I was a little surprised by the city's layout. It's built on a number of islands, but most of the streets are dead straight and quite wide. Not what I expected. Anyway, we saw the place where the Nobel prizes are awarded, which didn't look that interesting to me, followed by an ice rink where folks were skating to the tune of SOS by ABBA. Excellent.

We then headed into the Gamla Stan (old town), which had a few hardy tourists inspecting its narrow, cobbled streets. Finally, we took a boat out to Skansen, which is an open air museum of Swedish culture. Lots of old houses from different parts of the country, along with a selection of Sweden's native animals. I was most impressed by the wolverine, as I've never seen one before, and by the looks of my photos, you won't either. It was one of my favourite animals as a child and I thought it was much cooler than the Tasmanian Devil.

Night falls early in the tropics (like at 3pm), so our sightseeing trip didn't last too much longer.

Stockholm has plenty of facilities for gymnasts
© Jeff Jones

Ice skating to ABBA
© Jeff Jones

A very narrow alley
© Jeff Jones

Entry to Skansen. Note subtle ABBA reference.
© Jeff Jones

Traditional Swedish shack in Skansen
© Jeff Jones

A perfect specimen of a wolverine or panther. You need to be a pro to get pics like this.
© Jeff Jones


Royals

Sunday, being New Year's eve, we made good use of the remaining three hours of daylight (by the time we left the house at midday) by visiting Drottningholm palace, the summer house of Swedish royalty. It's a bit like Versailles, but on a smaller scale and not as pretty. Because of its house-like status, we couldn't actually go inside, so instead we satisfied ourselves with the slightly out of place Chinese pavilion and Gothic tower.

We drove around an island afterwards, and saw actual examples of Swedish country living. Most houses are painted Falun red, although orange, yellow and brown are common colours.

The royle palace at Drottningholm. Note resemblance to Versailles.
© Jeff Jones

Inscrutable (it was shut) Chinese pavilion in Drottningholm
© Jeff Jones


I went into the city by myself and generally tooled around. Taking pics without gloves when it's close to freezing leads to cold hands. Scientific tests have now shown this (I was the scientist). Nothing that a cappuccino (in a glass!) and a chunk of apple strudel cake at a centrally located restaurang wouldn't fix.

I stopped into a church I passed along the way because it was warmer, but I did not get down on my knees and pretend to pray. I'm far too atheistic for that. I did take a whole lotta pics of Gamla Stan by night, if 4pm counts as night. None of them came out because there was no light, except the one I took of the light shop.

The sun came up briefly before 3pm on Sunday, then set immediately. I was there, on the spot.
© Jeff Jones

Handily, I found this light shop.
© Jeff Jones


Gott Nytt År

It being New Year's Eve, some fireworks were in order. Unlike alcohol, you can buy fireworks relatively easily in Sweden, and people were letting them off all night. After watching Da Vinci Code, we three ventured out into the nearby park at 11:55pm when the pyrotechnics were in full swing. It was quite amazing and very different from the 'organised' fireworks that we get in Sydney. The horizon was constantly flashing as everyone, everywhere was lighting their respective blue touch papers. Combined with the general whistling, it sounded like the whole city was being bombed!

Fortunately it wasn't, and we safely watched the locals in the park shooting fireworks at each other. A great night, reminiscent of my childhood days when fireworks were still legal in Oz. Until too many people blew parts of other people's (or their own) anatomy off.

Gabbi and Robin about to hoe into a NYE repast
© Jeff Jones


I didn't make any New Year's resolutions this year, because I tend to forget them within about two weeks, let alone try to stick to them. The only one I remember was back in 1999/2000, which I still haven't managed to achieve yet, although I'm getting closer.

More pics

Downtown Stockholm by day
© Jeff Jones
Downtown Stockholm by night
© Jeff Jones

This is where you can win a Nobel prize
© Jeff Jones
My eyes hurt
© Jeff Jones

Whatever you reckon
© Jeff Jones
The changing of the guard at the royal palace
© Jeff Jones

Gabbi buys some fine coffee
© Jeff Jones

A steep bit of Gamla Stan
© Jeff Jones

Well, at least it's colourful
© Jeff Jones

The three wise men discover a dead elk (R) in the desert
© Jeff Jones
Looking back at Gamla Stan and other bits of Stockholm
© Jeff Jones

Swedish architecture in Skansen
© Jeff Jones

Another house in Skansen
© Jeff Jones

Reindeer in poor light in Skansen
© Jeff Jones

An extremely useful Gothic tower
© Jeff Jones
Drottningholm gardens
© Jeff Jones

Skating by night, probably still to the tune of ABBA
© Jeff Jones
NK, Sweden's equivalent of DJs
© Jeff Jones

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Not a great start

Happy new year and all that. I spent mine in Stockholm, and I'll post more on that anon.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that great a start in Bath, as I learned when I got into work this morning. A guy was stabbed to death on Sunday night just down the road from me. Less than 100 metres, in fact. There'd been a fight in the Longacre Tavern, which spilled out onto the pavement, and one poor bugger copped it. I'm not sure if the four guys arrested and released did it, but at least there were plenty of police on hand for a change. There are plenty more now, questioning people in the flats next door.

While the Longacre Tavern is not a place I would frequent, the fact that it is so close is worrying. I walked past it today en route to the supermarket (closed anyway), and saw a cross tied to a post at the end of the alleyway next to the pub. I've looked up that alleyway before, and noticed two fairly shifty types lounging next to the wall. Maybe more shopping at Waitrose is on the menu.

I suppose the good news is that there is, on average, about 1 homicide per year in Bath (pop. 170,000), and total crime has dropped by a lot over the last few years. It's not particularly good news for the person who dies, though. RIP.