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.