Island Hopping in Greece

This year we spent our summer holiday in Greece. From my point of view, it could have been any country with sun and sea and more than 25 degrees, given that we had another horrible summer here in England. For Georgi however, the choice had more emotional weight. She had just finished reading “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin” earlier this year when she solemnly announced: “This year we’re going to Greece”.
So we spoke with a few Greek friends, asked around, surfed the web a bit and even bought a travel book (which I sadly lost in Santorini, towards the end of our trip). We decided that it would be best to have a bit of freedom, so in true personal style we booked just the flights. We had a vague idea on the itinerary, but most of it, was decided on the go. This was brilliant as this lack of restrictions allowed us to enjoy the places that we really liked and skip those that we didn’t. We started our little journey in Athens, went to Paros (and Antiparos), Naxos (as well as Delos and Mykonos), Ios, Santorini and then back to Athens. So I’ll say a few words about all these places.

Athens

This was the only place where we booked a hotel in advance. We found a fantastic “top secret” deal on the web which meant that we were only told the name of our hotel after we booked it. I know it sounds a bit dodgy, but it was well worth it.
We had two full days to explore the city, and I don’t think one needs much more. The rich history of this place is just fascinating. Of course we visited the Acropolis with the Pantheon on top, as well as many other sites that tell the story of this city. What is intriguing is that while Ancient Greece and in particular Athens, was preoccupied with philosophy, literature, science and technology and of course, art and architecture, other places in Europe, were so far behind. I don’t know what contributed to their incredible development. Maybe their political and social structures, their laws, their economy, their educational system or their armies. Whatever it was, I think I would have enjoyed living in Ancient Greece. It is said that the daily wage of a Greek worker was the equivalent of 12 kg of wheat. You can make a lot of pancakes with that…
We also celebrated our wedding anniversary in Athens. We got lost one evening in Plaka, the old historical neighbourhood of Athens with narrow streets and many attractions. We found a great restaurant. Georgi loved it, and she’s usually difficult to please. The owner even gave her a big hug and a kiss. He totally ignored me. ;) So did I. I was too busy analysing the very loud noise coming from one of the olive trees next to our table. It turned out that some local crickets were having a party. :)

Paros

After two days of strolling on the streets of Athens we started to feel the downside of living in a Mediterranean country:  it gets very hot, and the whole city is suffocating. We jumped on the first ferry towards the Cyclades. The cool morning breeze was pleasantly refreshing. In the distance we could see the wild fires that were ready to attack Athens. Fortunately, they were eventually dealt with, to the relief of our friends back home.
The five hour ferry ride to Paros seemed to last forever. Some large local family invaded one of our seats, which meant that I spent most of this time on the deck outside. This had an immediate effect on my skin colour. It wasn’t enough to be able to blend in though, so people were looking at me as if I just came out of my cave.
When we got to Paros, we started to be a bit worried, given that we didn’t have anything booked. It turned out that our concern was for nothing. As soon as we got off the ferry, we saw a huge crowd waiting, like a tiger waits for its prey. They were local entrepreneurs, running hotels, B&Bs, hostels or camping sites. They came here fishing. Fishing for tourists. They spotted us. We were the odd ones out. And then the silence was broken and the fierce attack began. Huge signs were being waved, eye contact was sought and a battle chant began: “hotel”, ”cheap”, ”beach”, ”room”, ”perfect”!!! In the huge confusion we found ourselves cornered by this local bloke, speaking fluent English (good for business). He even knew some words in Romanian. He made us an offer, thinking this is too easy. Two naïve looking tourists in Greece. What more can you ask from Poseidon? But we did our homework and we got the price down very quickly. There were another ten guys just like him making fabulous claims right behind him, so we always had the upper ground. Actually I enjoyed the bargaining part a lot and it became the fun part of our every stop.

And now a few things about Paros. The first thing we did was to get a scooter. I had never driven a scooter before so they gave me an old one they didn’t seem to care too much about. Learning to drive took a few minutes, and it was incredible. Ever since I sat on that scooter I’m thinking about getting one.

We explored the island looking for beaches and interesting places as recommended by our guidebook or our host. We found some amazing villages hidden among the hills, we swam in crystal clear blue lagoons and walked among thousands of butterflies in the Butterfly Valley and all of a sudden we forgot about everything else. At last, we were on holiday. We really enjoyed the food, and for the first time in a very long time, Georgi was smiling before dinner. It’s amazing how similar the food is in Romania. “Greek salad”, aubergine pure, dolmades, giant beans, stuffed peppers and tomatoes are all dishes we grew up with. And then there was the fish. Fabulous!

The locals are having their share of fun as well. For instance a farmer sold us some cactus fruits which were very tasty, but had tiny little stings that went under my skin and tortured me for days. Seeing my obvious discomfort, he just smiled and shook his head… “Tourists. Everyone knows you’re not supposed to pick a cactus fruit with your bear hands.”

Antiparos

This is a small island next to Paros. It takes about 10 minutes by ferry to get there. I guess a good swimmer could get across without much effort. We spent half a day there, exploring again. Antiparos is much more deserted than Paros which allowed me to be a bit crazy with the scooter. We visited a cave which was quite high up and difficult to get to. But cool.

Naxos

Naxos probably comes up very high in my preferences. It is the largest island in the Cyclades and also very down to Earth, simple and nice. As the large ferry was getting closer to the island one could see the white houses of Hora one side and some scattered ruins nearby. Among the ruins the most prominent landmark is Portara, a massive temple entrance still standing. We found some really nice beaches and by now our skin (well, Georgi’s skin and my bones to be more precise) was getting a beautiful brown colour. We hired another scooter and given my experience from Paros I was given a much better one. We adventured deep inside the island visiting astonishing white churches and villages scattered across the hills. Because most tourists don’t adventure this far, we managed to get a feeling of the local life. In one particular village we stopped just because there was such a nice smell of freshly baked bread. The local baker was at fault.

They say Naxos is the most fertile island in the Cyclades, but to the untrained eye it seemed to be very arid in most places. It turned out that I was wrong. Fruits and vegetables grow everywhere there is a little spring, and we saw some valleys so rich and luxuriant, almost to the point of incredible. I think it would be fair to say that in Naxos we got the best food in terms of value for money.
 The highest peak in the Cyclades is Mt. Zeus (999 m) which is on Naxos. They say young Zeus was raised in a cave on this mountain. Apparently one can hike all the way up to the top (it takes a few hours), but given that it was very hot we decided to go only to places accessible by scooter. Still a lot of choice, with some very steep roads and great fun. At some point we had to stop as our dear two-wheeled friend was near the boiling point. This gave us the chance to pinch some fresh figs from a nearby tree.
In Hora we visited a Venetian Castle one evening which was now a museum. It seemed a bit strange, but yes, Venice ruled over the Cyclades for a few centuries. Part of the museum tour was a free sample of Kitro, the local liqueur made from citrus leaves. It comes in three different colours: white, green and orange and I don’t remember much more. I just know that we finished the evening watching a fantastic sunset from the castle’s balcony.

Delos

From Naxos we took a boat for a day visit to Delos and Mykonos. Delos is a small uninhabited island which has the most amazing history. It’s just one big archaeological site with an unbelievable number of temples, statues and ruined houses, as well as a museum which is trying to preserve some of their most valuable treasures. Initially established as a cult centre (it was the birthplace of Apollo and Artemis), it soon gained great significance and moved towards more mundane activities: business.  At the height of its prosperity Delos was the most important political, financial and trading centre of the Mediterranean with nearly 30000 inhabitants coming from places as far as Rome or Egypt. Not bad for such a tiny island.
Inside the museum we found an interesting plaque detailing the menu for a banquet they had to honour some god. Apparently they had bread and olives, ox roast, and roasted nuts and honey for desert as well as wine. Our diet hasn’t changed that much in the last two and a half millennia.

Mykonos

We spent an afternoon in Mykonos which is more of a party island so we didn’t quite get its pulse. It is also very popular with tourists and those willing to spend a fortune on perfumes and jewellery. We explored the town for a bit, getting lost in the labyrinth like narrow streets and admiring the always beautiful white churches and old windmills.

 
Ios

By the time we arrived in Ios we were expert negotiators so we got a great place to stay overlooking the city. We also found that we couldn’t rent a scooter because my driving license wasn’t valid. So all this time I’ve enjoyed riding my scooter, I was doing it illegally. That meant that we had to rent a quad bike,  which had four wheels, was a bit slower and less agile but still good fun.
They say Ios is a student island with thousands of them coming from every corner of Europe. However, it was surprisingly quiet. I guess it was the end of the season and most students ran out of money by then. Georgi insists that this is where we found the perfect beach. It was nearly deserted with golden sands and azure waters. And the local restaurant just made our day.

Santorini

Santorini was our final stop. It is the most spectacular island in the Cyclades with breathtaking views. The island is essentially what remains of a giant volcanic eruption which led to many interesting legends including the Atlantis (some say). The main island is called Thira. Its west coast is a 300 m or so vertical cliff and one can only appreciate its splendour the moment the ferry enters the giant lagoon below. And at the top of the caldera several towns can be seen with houses built right on the edge.

There is so much to explore in Santorini that one needs an entire holiday just for it. On the other hand, given its popularity it is very crowded. The serene evenings that we had on some of the other islands were now a thing of the past. Thousands of tourists everywhere were photographing every single brick.  The famous white churches whit blue domes so widely spread across Greece can be seen here in their full beauty.
We had a funny experience one evening. We went to Oia to see the sunset as advised by our host, our guidebook and the bike rental place: “You have to see the sunset in Oia”. So we went. But so did another two thousand people or so. There was a queue for the sunset. We didn’t see much but had a good laugh and took some pictures of the crowds. I guess this is expected when going to such an attractive destination.
Santorini is famous for its wine. There are a few places one can visit and enjoy Dionysus’ drink. I was particularly puzzled by how different the vineyard soil was. It seemed to be white, dry and nearly stone-like, and yet so fertile.
The volcanic history of the place can be seen everywhere. No more golden or white beaches. Instead we had the Red and the Black Beach. Overcrowded, of course.
With Santorini our trip came to an end. We had a dinner in a restaurant with fantastic views right on the edge of the caldera. We said goodbye to the islands and we promised to return. On the very last day just before we boarded our ferry we decided to take a boat and visit the volcano, which is on a small island in the middle of the lagoon. But it was already September and for the first time in nearly three weeks we saw some clouds and fog. It looked surreal.

More pictures here…

SuperKarina

My friend's baby is showing early signs of superhero personality. What do SuperMan, SuperMario and SuperKarina have in common? Find the clue in the image below (click to enlarge):

Cleaners Keep Out!

In a country where overzealous cleaners sweep everything they can get their brooms on, this sign had to be invented:

Tough Choice

The first time I visited CERN was in 2003. Since then, I’ve been there many times, and every time I go I see this funny Christmas caricature somewhere on a forgotten notice board. The paper got a bit of a yellowish colour over the years and gathered some dust, but the message is still there: “Let go, or else…” It’s really funny, but it can be quite painful especially if you’re a man and you use a bit your imagination… Snip, snip!

Please Sign Here

One of my colleagues was pointing out the other day that on the web one can find pretty much anything, even the signature of the Devil himself as it appeared in a 17-th century official document. But behind that document there is a very interesting story: the story of Urbain Grandier. Grandier was a catholic priest who lived in France and who at some point gained a few enemies including some nuns and the famous and powerful cardinal Richelieu. As it was the habit at the time, enemies were quickly dealt with. So Grandier was acused of witchcraft. But since there was no evidence to support these serious claims, some evidence had to be produced. And conveniently, a document appeared out of nowhere showing clearly that Grandier made a diabolical pact with the Devil. The document appeared to be signed by Grandier and several demons. This is the English translation:

“We, the influential Lucifer, the young Satan, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Elimi, and Astaroth, together with others, have today accepted the covenant pact of Urbain Grandier, who is ours. And him do we promise the love of women, the flower of virgins, the respect of monarchs, honors, lusts and powers.
He will go whoring three days long; the carousal will be dear to him. He offers us once in the year a seal of blood, under the feet he will trample the holy things of the church and he will ask us many questions; with this pact he will live twenty years happy on the earth of men, and will later join us to sin against God.
Bound in hell, in the council of demons.
Lucifer Beelzebub Satan
Astaroth Leviathan Elimi
The seals placed the Devil, the master, and the demons, princes of the lord.
Baalberith, writer.”

Sadly, Grandier was found guilty and sentenced to death.

Things to Worry About

This week, UK raised its heat-wave warning level to amber (the second highest), for the first time since 2006 when UK had the warmest summer in the last 300 years or so.

Meanwhile, the World Health Organization (WHO) has declared a global swine flu pandemic, which is Phase 6/6 – Red (Widespread human infection). First pandemic in 41 years!

And of course, the cherry on the cake is the current terrorist threat level which is set at Severe (second highest again), meaning that an attack is highly likely.

Now, I wonder whether I should worry more about the above bleak prospects or about the two new wrinkles I’ve just noticed this morning while shaving. Or maybe I shouldn’t worry about any of these and just “get on with life and make the most if it”, as my good wise friends always tell me.

A Witty Piece of Logic

Here's a witty piece of logic from "The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (Douglas Adams):

"The Babel fish," said The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy quietly, "is small, yellow and leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe... if you stick a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language...

"Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mindboggingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as the final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God.

"The argument goes something like this: `I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, `for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.'

"`But,' says Man, `The Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.'

"`Oh dear,' says God, `I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanished in a puff of logic.

"`Oh, that was easy,' says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.

So, how about it then?

In the movie “The Boat That Rocked”, ‘Midnight’ Mark, hardly says anything. He has a night radio show where he just plays music. He’s however hugely successful with women, much to the amazement of his colleagues. At the end of the movie he reveals his secret:
“Say nothing at all, ever, and then, when the tension becomes unbearable you just say: So, how ‘bout it then?”
I might give this a try…

Captain Planet

One of the first animated TV series that we had in Romania after the Revolution was Captain Planet. It’s meant to be both entertaining and educational, dealing mostly with environmental issues and although we didn’t understand all the problems our heroes were solving, we certainly enjoyed watching them.

I’ve seen the intro again recently and I’ve noticed something odd. The five heroes with special powers, come from all the corners of the Earth, each representing a continent (Australia is excluded for some reason). Their nationalities are not revealed: Kwame is from Africa, Wheeler is from North America, Ma-Ti from South America and Gi from Asia. However, we know precisely, where Linka’s from: The Soviet Union. I found this both interesting and amusing, because as a kid I never noticed the oddity: a political message hidden in a show for kids.
I did a bit of research, and it appears that only after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Linka was introduced as coming from Eastern Europe. But I think there’s a good explanation for this. Wikipedia says that Captain Planet was the first of its kind, advocating “The United Nations as an organization, and the concepts of globalism, multiculturalism and environmentalism”. Of course, the producers wanted to target a whole range of markets, even the Eastern Bloc, and what better way of getting the communists on board, than making a young soviet part of Captain Planet’s team and telling everyone about it?
Go Planet!

Jump

Some friends came over to our place last Saturday and we went for a short walk on the nearby hills. They didn't seem to be much tired when we returned, so we all went for a jumping session on the trampoline. And Antonio went through the trouble of making a short funny film with some random footage we took.

Odd things on a train

I'm on a train going back to Oxford from Lancaster. On the way up here, a few rather strange things happened, things you only notice if you haven't travelled by train in a while:
- the train manager said rather proudly that "we have begun our descent" towards a certain station. "Sorry, what I actually meant was approach".
- the lady checking the tickets, looked at me for a few seconds and then said I "look like that guy from 'the twilight zone' ". I wonder if that's a good thing?
- the same train manager reminded the customers leaving the train at station X to take all their belongings with them, including their kids. Thanks for reminding me!
- one lady took her dog for a walk up and down the train.
- I fell asleep.

Go East!

Although the communist regime in Romania sought to completely eradicate religion and build an atheist state, 20 years later statistics tell a different story: Romania is one of the most religious countries in Europe, with less than 1% openly declared atheists. So it is not unusual to meet people quite keen on sharing with you their views on life and their answers the some of the deepest existential questions one might have.

I was having a long discussion with some of my best friends who hold some clear and strong religious views (one of them is a protestant minister, so he doesn’t have much choice, but stick to those views). Their beliefs, right or wrong, painted a very clear image of the world, all pretty much in black and white. And since just the idea of someone (even my friends) having the absolute truth gives me shivers, I had to point out that our dearly held viewpoints, philosophies and values are to a certain degree culturally dependent, hence they can’t be all that absolute. Surely if I were born in India, there is quite a good chance I would think quite highly of my dad’s cows, whereas now the poor bovines are just hundreds and hundreds of tasty burgers.
For a moment listening to my friends it was just like seeing myself about five years ago, before I left Romania. But being exposed to a different culture and interacting with people with such different backgrounds can put things in a totally different perspective. And this is exactly what my friends haven’t experienced. So I proposed a journey of spiritual and cultural enlightenment where we travel together for a year in order to understand the diversity of this world. The aim of this trip is to meet people, learn about their lives, their history and their beliefs and live with them for a while, not like a tourist, but like one of them. And my hope would be that at the end some conclusions would come naturally and that my friends would repaint their black and white picture of the world into something very colourful.
To make this cultural shock even more dramatic, I suggested we go East.

1. The starting point would be somewhere in the Middle East, the birthplace of the largest monotheistic religions in the world: Christianity, Islam and Judaism. I guess Jerusalem isn’t bad for a start.
2. Then we would go south to Saudi Arabia (Mecca not to be missed) and experience Islam at its core.
3. The next stop would be Iran, home for Islam (Shia Muslims), but also Zoroastrianism (my favourite)
4. India will have a lot to say in this journey, as Hindu beliefs vary widely bringing some very unusual concepts of God and strange and fantastic ideas and practices. It’s also a good place to practice Yoga.
5. Moving further South-East, as far as Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia, The Philippines, etc., a mixture of tribal religions can be found as well as Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, etc.
6. In China one can meet hundreds of millions of communist non-believers. Taoism is quite significant as well, and so are some Chinese folk religions (including Confucianism).
7. To really understand Buddhism, Tibet will be a good place to stop and maybe Mongolia as well.
8. South Correa has an interesting religious mixture as well. Apparently the largest Christian Church is in Seoul. Very odd.
9. And finally the last stop is Japan, a highly developed country with a taste for spirits. A good place to understand Shinto.
I thought it was a good plan, but my friends were not impressed. Instead one of them (the pastor) proposed a different journey: Go West! They would start again in Jerusalem, but this time their journey would follow the spread of Christianity throughout Europe: visit the ruins of the first Christian churches in Turkey, then go to Rome and follow the spread of the new religion throughout the Roman Empire, go further North and West with the Reformation and eventually cross the Atlantic and see the very popular evangelical churches at work in United States.
To my disappointment I couldn’t convince any of my friends to join me. They will all follow my friend and go West. Only my dearest wife will be by my side, which is more than enough to get me going. It’s just that I don’t think that she needs this journey as much as my friends do.

Flowers

About three weeks ago I went to Timisoara to visit my friends. They haven't seen me in a very long time, so they thought about a special way of telling me how much they've missed me. They bought me some flowers. They were delicious!

Cleaners on Strike

I took this picture in Bilbao Airport. The cleaners were on strike, but this mess wasn’t done by careless passengers, but by the cleaners themselves. They were trying point out how the world would look like without them. Fair enough, but this form of protest comes at a price: they will have to clean everything once the strike is over, and they were quite zealous spreading garbage around.

Bilbao

I’ve just got back from Bilbao, the largest city in the Basque Country, northern Spain. To be honest, I didn’t expect much from this place and if it wasn’t for professional reasons I’m not sure whether I would have ever visited this city. I remember in the ‘90s the infamous ETA making the news much too often: treacherous attacks and bombings killing innocent people and spreading terror throughout Spain, but mostly in the Basque Country. Not the first choice tourist destination.

But 10-15 years is a long time. Long enough for Bilbao to completely change its image. The city made its fortune during the industrial revolution especially because of its iron resources and shipbuilding industry and kept its industrial tradition for the most part of the last century. But heavy industry is difficult in modern times, so Bilbao has gone through a fantastic metamorphosis that completely changed its image. Major urban developments can be seen everywhere including a brand new transport system that would make London look half a century behind. Iron avant-garde artwork can be seen scattered throughout the city, telling the story of this place. But most of all, it has that European style that I so much love. The old town (Casco Viejo) is just great, with its numerous tapas bars, narrow roads and historical sites. A friend of mine grew up in the region and told me that traditionally people go on a tavern crawl in the evenings having small glasses of wine with pinxtos (very tasty slices of bread served with various ingredients) and singing traditional songs between stops. We did just that and it was fantastic to see all these people in the streets enjoying the evening. We didn’t do the singing part though, but some people were.
One evening I had a guided tour at the world famous Bilbao Guggenheim Museum. It was for the first time that abstract art made a lot of sense and carried a message. The building appears to be designed at random and has a lot of very reflective curves. It’s covered in titanium. The highlight of the permanent collection was a series of massive steel sculptures (with a layer of rust) called “The Matter of Time”. Among the temporary exhibition I’ve seen some work by the Chinese artist Cai Guo-Qiang. Ignorant as I am, I’ve never heard of him, but apparently he’s quite famous for using gun powder and explosions to create some of his art. Sometimes his work carries a political message, but critics say he’s position is often opportunistic.
One afternoon I went for a long walk along the coast. The sunshine and the sea reminded me how great it is to live in a warmer country. It completely changes one’s perception on life. It didn’t quite change ETA yet, maybe because in Bilbao it rains more than everywhere in Spain. :) But the major investments in this city have definitely had an impact. And I guess this is the long-term solution for social unrest. Give people jobs, entertainment and a better life and they will slowly became rational and sit at the same table with you.
Some more photos here.

The Philosophy of a Physicist

1. Stay as general as possible and work out the main principles.
2. There is always the odd example.

London Aquarium rip-off

We had some friends visiting us from abroad, so on Sunday we went to London. Since we don’t live there, we joined them and became tourists for a few hours. Our friends insisted that we visit the aquarium as quite a few adverts and guide books say it’s a must. “Your wish is our command” we said and we joined the queue. As it turned out, the place is actually a must not. A total rip-off. We spent half an hour there only because it was raining outside. Being very central, the underground building is inundated with tourists who fight for every good viewing spot, making the experience even less enjoyable. In addition the aquarium is being refurbished so some sections are not open for visitors. In every normal place, the whole site would be closed while major construction work takes place, but not here. We actually had to carefully avoid the builders and watch out for things falling. This is bad management and pure greed.

I’m sure the aquarium will look much better when the new £5 million renovation will come to an end, but I’m not going back. Actually two days later I had to go to London again, this time just by myself and since I had a few hours to kill, I decided to do something I always wanted: visit the National History Museum. It’s absolutely fantastic and free. It’s also too big to see in a day, especially if you’re interested in finding out everything about Tyrannosaurus Rex. Next door is the Science Museum, which can be great if you have a slight interest in nature, science and technology. They have a nice section on space travel with some life-size rockets on display. Walk for another 10 minutes towards Hyde Park and you have the Serpentine Galleries. All these for free! London has so much more to offer than an aquarium in construction overcharging its visitors.

Meet Larry Flynt

Larry Flynt is an American publisher most notably known for producing Hustler, a pornographic entertainment magazine. He came to the Union last week and I went to see him. The man is in a wheelchair. A golden plated wheelchair. I must say, I was expecting a much more interesting person given his background (!) but by the end I was quite disappointed. Anyway, two things are worth mentioning.

1. He spoke about freedom of speech as being a fundamental right in a democratic society, protecting not the speech that you like, but the speech that you don’t like. True! However, the question is how far can you go, and what sort of things can you hide behind this freedom? One can say that pornography is almost an accepted form of entertainment, but as it was pointed out by many of the people there, Hustler goes beyond these limits. The magazine has been criticised for treating with humour some very serious and disturbing issues like rape, child molestation and incest. This can be very painful for those who’ve experienced such traumas, but even more, it’s sending completely the wrong message. No matter how you put it, gang-rape is not entertainment. It is a crime! Many questions were asked, most of them to do with ethical issues, but very few answers were given. At the end, as if trying to pull out an ace to make up for the poor performance, Larry Flynt came up with one of his supposedly funny (and famous, as I later found out) lines: “From my experience I can tell you there are two types of people who oppose pornography: Those who don’t know what they’re talking about and those who don’t know what they’re missing.” Silence…
2. About 150 people came to this talk, most of them students. In a secular multicultural place like Oxford, it can be sometimes challenging to talk about common moral values. People with different backgrounds often have conflicting views on many ethical topics. But Larry Flynt’s talk and the discussion that followed made me see that the same people can still set an absolute reference when it comes to some subjects. Like the subject of this debate. There was a remarkable convergence of ideas from the public that in the end seemed to be saying the same thing: Yes, we can talk about moral relativism and push the limits quite far, but some values are universal and hard to change, even by Larry Flynt.

Martisor

Where I come from, spring is a spectacular event, nothing less than amazing. After a long and severe winter, at some point in March, the first snowdrops pop up here and there, telling the world that the nature is about to wake up again. And what an awakening that is! Flowers, bugs, plants, birds, bees, trees burst with such an incredible energy that every year for a few weeks everyone suddenly becomes much younger. The change is dramatic and the nature goes absolutely crazy.

Of course, the beginning of the spring had to be celebrated somehow. The tradition is called “Martisor” and it might have been around since the ancient Rome. The closest translation for “Martisor” that I can think of is “dear or little March”. On the first of March, men offer women little good luck charms consisting of small symbolic objects (flowers, horseshoes, hearts, etc.) tied to a red and white string. It was believed that those wearing the small amulet will be healthy and wealthy for the year to come. I wonder why only women get to wear it though… Surely men want to be prosperous as well, maybe sometimes even more than women. Never mind…
I found two fantastic pieces of music, telling the glorious story of the spring. It won’t mean much to you unless you speak Romanian, but who knows. The artist is Tudor Gheorghe.

Tudor Gheorghe - Salcamii



Tudor Gheorghe - Primavara

Wittenham Clumps

Having grown up in the mountains I must say that living in the flat Thames Valley is not always that exciting. But last year, Jacqui, one of my friends, tired of my continuous moaning about the lack of mountains, pointed out that this place is not that dull as one might think. There are some very good walks around and quite a few hills. To prove her point we went to Little Wittenham, a small village very close to Oxford. And right next to the village, a hill appears almost out of nowhere that certainly gives the impression that it was “planted” there. They call it Wittenham Clumps. It’s mostly covered with grass looking so green and fresh in the spring that the first time I went there, I felt very tempted to start grazing. The top of the hill is covered with trees giving the place a very majestic appearance. And as you make your way towards the top on one of the many footpaths, all of a sudden you realise why this place is so special: it’s very quiet, you’re above everything else and the view is fantastic. Scattered villages can be seen everywhere along the river, church spires, shining distant and mysterious buildings but also some urban landscape that doesn’t seem quite right.

We really liked the place and we went back with other friends a few times, most recently last weekend. The walk that we usually take (as suggested by Jacqui, of course) is quite simple: we park the car (or the bike), on the south part of the hill, go up the hill and then go down to Little Wittenham (visit the church), cross the river, and then head towards Dorchester through some beautiful wheat fields. There are a few pubs in Dorchester where you can have a drink and grab something to eat to get you ready for the walk back. But before leaving it’s worth visiting the Dorchester Abbey.
It’s also interesting to go there at different times of the year. The scenery changes quite a bit, and even if this change is not as dramatic as it is in countries with a lot of snowfall, it is exciting to see how the nature puts on different outfits for different seasons.

Early summer:

Late summer:

Late winter:

Finally a word of advice:

Don’t try racing your immature friends up the hill. You’ll be sorry.

In the summer there is a bull around who doesn’t have much interest in you, but the locals take the precaution to put warning signs everywhere: “Beware of the bull!”

Sometimes if the wind is right, people come up there to fly their small model planes. It can be interesting to watch.

See some more pictures on my Picasa albums:
Early Summer
Late Summer
Late Winter

Zadok the Priest

Last night we went to St John’s College for a concert: “In celebration of Handel and Purcell”. Apparently this year we celebrate Purcell’s 350th birthday, and commemorate Handel’s death, 250 years ago. To my untrained ear, the highlight of the evening was “Zadok the Priest”, one of Handel’s Coronation Anthems:
“Zadok the Priest and Nathan the Prophet anointed Solomon King
And all the people rejoiced, and said:
‘God save the King, long live the King, may the King live forever!
Amen, Alleluia!’”
The text has been used at every coronation since that of King Edgar in 973AD. Handel’s setting has been sung since 1727.

And even more interesting, the UEFA Champions League Anthem is based on this composition. But I’m sure every football fan knows this.

Bourton-on-the-Water

Since we live quite close to the Cotswolds, occasionally we go for long walks in some of the most beautiful villages in England. Our friends visiting us from abroad are always impressed by the serene towns and villages scattered along quiet water streams, by the beautiful stone houses and the green valleys and fields. And so are we.

Last weekend we went to Bourton-on-the-Water, probably one of the most attractive Cotswolds destination judging by the number of tourists on the streets. The River Windrush with its crystal clear water (to be honest the water was quite cloudy because of all the snow melting upstream) runs through the village and it’s spanned by quite a few small bridges. I think this is the reason Bourton-on-the-Water is sometimes called the “Venice of the Cotswolds”.
We’ve visited a few antique shops, and a remarkable model railway. I’ve spent about half an hour playing with the trains and decided I want my own train too. Luckily Georgi was there to bring me back to Earth. I was quite impressed with the trains so I went to talk to the owners. To my disappointment they didn’t know much about the history of their shop and small museum. To them it was just a business they bought a few years ago.
For the determined tourist there are some other things around. There is a 1:10 replica of the actual village (the model village) that features the model of the model itself… I wonder if the model of the model also includes the model of the model of the model… We’ve also noticed a small motoring museum, a fragrance factory offering guided tours and a bird theme park. A lot of attractions for such a small place.

In the evening, somehow all the tourists have vanished. The village became quiet and empty, and a bizarre serenity filled the empty streets. And on one of the small alleys on the banks of the Windrush, Georgi decided to teach me my first waltz steps. Just the two of us beneath the glow of the street lamps. One two three, one two three…
More pictures here.

How to steal your own bike

I left my bike at one of my friends’ about a month ago and I went to pick it up on Sunday night. My friend however, had absolutely no clue what I was talking about. It took me a good few minutes and a lot of persuasion before I got him to reluctantly agree that my bike was behind his house. His memory was slowly coming back to him, so we went outside to prove my point. But, guess what? There was no bike. For a second he thought this was one of my silly jokes again, but by now he was getting more and more flashbacks. Or maybe “flashbikes”.
Suddenly he remembered how a mysterious bicycle appeared behind their house and after “careful consideration”, him and his house mates decided to put the “troublemaking bike” in their neighbour’s garden. We had a quick glance over the fence, and my bike was there. I told them I could go and explain the situation to their neighbour, but since they’ve dumped the new bike in his backyard without his knowledge, they’ve decided it would be better if we… stole it! And that’s what we did. In that dark drizzly night, three silhouettes quietly sneaked in the neighbour’s garden and nicked the bike. My own bike.
That reminded me that about a year ago, my bike was stolen for real. The police didn’t do anything, but wrote me a nice letter offering counselling and support should I need it. Hopefully my friend’s neighbour didn’t become too fond of his new, out of nowhere pink bike, or he’ll be needing many counselling sessions.

Smile, you'll live longer!

I went to my college the other day, to pick up my mail. The porter was there, quite cheerful, watching his computer screen. So I started to talk to him.
- “Why are you smiling?”, I said.
- “Well, this computer’s crashed again”, he replied.
- “To be honest that happens to me all the time, and when it does I don’t really feel like smiling”.
- “You see, that’s what most people do, but for some reason I have a tendency to smile no matter what happens”, he continued.
I thought that was quite interesting so I carried on:
- “You know, that’s actually very good. I personally have a hotter temper, but they say that people who smile a lot, live longer.”
He started to laugh, then looked me in the eyes and said:
- “Funny you should say that, because I’ve got cancer. And it's not going very well.”
The time stopped for a few moments and then I wished the guy behind me was a big dragon just about to swallow me. I felt dreadful, I apologised for bringing this up and didn’t know what else to say. The man seeing my noticeable distress thought he could cheer me up, by giving me a free life lesson. His life lesson.
- “I was diagnosed four years ago, had a surgery, chemotherapy and all the rest. After the initial shock, I’ve realised one thing. Life is indeed short, and precious. A gift. And I wasn’t really enjoying it before, because I never thought about the end. But when you realise that quite soon you have to go, you sit down and ask yourself one question: What is actually important for me? What do I want to do with the time that I’ve got? And for me, the answer was simple. I want to smile and enjoy every second of it. All those problems most people worry about, are meaningless. But, by the time they figure this out, it’s a bit too late. I don’t know how much longer this story will go on for me, but smiling certainly helps.”
And then he started to laugh again. The computer was back to life.
I’m going to see him again on Sunday.

Sun Dogs

On Friday just before sunset, one of my colleagues noticed a very interesting phenomenon on the sky: a parhelion or a sun dog as it’s sometimes called, so I grabbed my phone and took a (poor) picture. They usually come in pairs (one on each side of the sun), but some trees blocked my view and I couldn’t get the second “dog”. Sun dogs are spots on a solar halo, sometimes so bright that they can be mistaken for a pair of extra suns. They occur when the sun is quite low in the sky (i.e. before sunset or after sunrise) and apparently they happen on other planets from our Solar System as well (giant gas planets like Jupiter). The sunlight passes through small ice crystals from cirrus clouds (another important ingredient) and gets refracted. Depending on the direction of the light and the type and alignment of the ice crystals (they can be flat, or long needle like, horizontally or vertically aligned or not aligned at all) one can get different "breeds" of sun dogs. The one I’ve seen looked a bit like a rainbow.

I found some pictures and a nice phenomenology description on this website.

Ten Days in Utah - Episode 4: Zion National Park

Having a very diverse landscape, Utah is also good for hiking, even in winter. We hired a (very ugly) car and we started to drive south towards St. George, hoping to escape the snow and the bad weather for a few days. It was just after sunset when we saw something resembling a giant dark wall forming a few miles in front of us. We were being hit by a snow blizzard. Within minutes the road markings disappeared and the snow on the motorway accumulated at a frightening pace. The visibility was limited to a couple of meters or so, with snow coming from all directions. That gave me the hallucinating feeling that I was being hypnotised by a powerful storm magician: “You are going to sleep in the snow…”. But our friends driving the car in front of us were quite determined to beat this blizzard so we followed them very closely. Several times we almost ended up in the ditch on the side of the road like some other unlucky drivers. After about 30 minutes that seemed like an eternity we found a motorway exit, only because we nearly hit the exit sign. We stopped in a petrol station and after a while two things became clear to everyone: we were quite lucky to get this far and it was impossible to go any further. Fortunately there was a motel nearby that had some spare rooms, except that getting there proved to be another challenge. Eventually we made it and the moment I saw myself in a room that had a roof and a bed, all that adrenaline in my body miraculously turned into a whole set of flavoured feel good hormones. I was happy and grateful.

That night the snow ploughs worked hard to clear the roads so in the morning the motorway seemed quite safe to drive. Here and there one could see an abandoned car or a jack-knifed lorry, testimony that the hell we’ve been through wasn’t just a bad dream.
We didn’t drive too long before miraculously all the dark clouds disappeared unveiling the most beautiful dark blue sky. A weird and wonderful landscape unfolded in front of us and for a second we thought we’ve just landed on the Red Planet... But no, this is Southern Utah.

There are quite a few national parks around and Zion is one of them. The crisp, cold, desert air made all my senses a bit sharper as if the place really wanted someone to appreciate its beauty. Amazing sandstone cliffs painted in different shades of red were hiding behind every corner. The red colour I assume is simply iron oxide but you don’t have to be a geologist to see how fantastic this place is. Apparently the name Zion is a Hebrew word meaning sanctuary (the Mormons again…) and there really is something special there that demands reverence and creates wonder…
There are some good hikes in Zion, but because of the snow we were told it’s a bit dangerous to try anything adventurous. We did do however two fairly easy ones, one of which gave a fantastic overview of the canyon. We also saw some mountain goats or sheep that were as curious about us as we were about them. On the way back I’ve noticed another interesting thing… even the tarmac on the road was red to keep in tune with the harmony of the place, while some houses in St George were designed in the same fashion.
That night we had a long drive back to SLC and this was the end of our short Utah adventure... a place that hides many undiscovered treasures and which is definitively worth re-visiting.

More pictures in this album.
Kenny and Jessica also took some great pictures, and Emil and Krystal have a good selection as well.

Ten Days in Utah - Episode 3: The Wedding

One day in a man's life everything has to be close to perfection. And that's his wedding day. Later on, the man finds out that for a woman things are a bit different. These perfect days have to come in much more often bringing equal amounts of cheerfulness and stress.
So the perfect day for my friend Emil and his bride Krystal happened to be right before Christmas. And just like in one of my childhood fairy tales the wedding actually lasted a whole week. A huge house was rented for the guests. It had seven bedrooms, a hot tub and a living room as big as my flat. They said it belonged to a Mormon family, but to me all the houses on that street were just as big as this one. We also had a magic pool table that in reality was a human magnet. When we first got into the house it felt a bit empty and strange, but things were about to change. Family and friends started to show up and soon the house was too small for everyone.
All those new faces asking twice about my funny name and trying to pick up my witty accent got me a bit worried at first. But the weds to be had it all planed. They locked us up in this house for three days (I think one night about 20 people slept there) and soon the faces became names, the names became stories and the stories became bridges over every possible gap. On a few occasions some of us managed to escape and explore the surroundings, do some shopping (amazing discounts), ski, and even play some basketball. Inside the house a lot of the time was spent around the dining table trying a very substantial and diverse cuisine. In US peanut butter seems to be essential for breakfast. We had a bucket of it, and it was going down rapidly. For the Christmas day we enjoyed a traditional Transylvanian dinner. No, not speared turkey cooked in blood, but “salata de boef”, soup and cabbage rolls.
Past memories were inundating my mind and the snow created an ambiance hard to describe... It was magic. Americans like their Christmas. Every house had amazing light decorations. We drove past this street one evening that seemed to be a Hollywood setup for a remake of “It’s a Wonderful Life”.



And then the wedding day came… Initially, KrystalimE (that’s a name they’ve coined for themselves) had planned a wedding on skis, somewhere on the slopes of Alta, but since a massive snowstorm was on the way, plan B had to be adopted. Arrangements were made for the reception to be held in a beautiful greenhouse that looked a bit like a tropical forest in contrast with the white blizzard outside. Now, I’ve known Emil since we were five. We grew up together, and since I don’t have any siblings I like to think of him as my brother. We went to school together, rode the same bike for a while (his), went trout fishing, chased dogs, fought “Corneii” every now and again, rode a home-made vehicle down the hill (Carutul), played the “tuberman” wars in the forest ” and hundreds of other things. But one thing we never did. We never spoke about the perfect day. Never! And when the night before I asked Emil if he’s nervous he said he didn’t think too much about it. But that morning he came to me and said with a little tremble in his voice… “Man, it’s happening”. And that tremble became stronger that day showing a man not frightened or unsecure, but emotional and in love. When the bride came in, beautiful and radiant, that emotion almost burst out. They read their vows, and while they were looking at each other as if they’ve been separated for the last ten years, my mind went back to the moment I did the same thing, three years ago. I looked at the incredible woman sitting next to me and she was smiling. I knew her mind was browsing the same past.


We had a wonderful dinner that featured among many things a bean soup. Concerned about the well being of their guests, the hosts provided some pills that battled the well-know secondary effects of the beans. I don’t know if they stop the sound, change the odour or prevent “things” from happening at all, but they didn’t work for me! They did prove however, that in the US you can get a pill for everything. I should have brought some laughing pills because after the dinner, it was speech time. I said a few words as well, but nobody got my jokes except Emil, Krystal and Georgi. Actually some people looked at me in horror, so I'm expecting Greenpeace to set my house on fire soon, for animal cruelty. Emil's not safe either.
After the dinner party the newlyweds drove to an unknown location. We went back to the house and for about an hour a diabolical plan to locate them was put together, involving sophisticated devices, spies, double agents and satellite tracking. Eventually an old, wise man pointed out that maybe they want to be alone for a reason. Hmmm…
And that’s the way things went. When everything was over and the house started to feel empty again, I felt a bit sorrow. But, as they say it’s never the end, it’s a new beginning. Now I have 20 more people to send Christmas cards to and if ever I get lost in Alaska, I know who to call.
See more pictures in this album, or on Krystal’s website.