Attack of the Killer Jellyfish

Jellyfish might not be the most frightening creatures in the ocean, but for north Atlantic salmon farmers these days, there's nothing scarier. About a week ago, it emerged that an enormous swarm of jellyfish invaded a salmon farm in Northern Ireland and engulfed hundreds of thousands of salmon. The sea was so dense with jellies that the boats used to try to go rescue the fish couldn't cut through the gelatinous mush. This story would be a science-fiction-esque curiosity if it didn't have such potentially alarming consequences. A few days ago, another salmon farm was hit, leaving tons of rotting fish carcasses floating in the Irish Sea. Huge jellyfish swarms have also been spotted off the coast of Scotland.



Jellyfish are warm-water creatures, and their swelling numbers reflect unseasonably warm conditions in the North Atlantic and could foreshadow the future trends of marine biology. As waters warm, the numbers of jellies are only going to increase, likely at the expense of other marine life. Hopefully we can stem this trend and protect biodiversity by managing jellyfish populations or supporting natural predators, such as the adorably truncated Mola fish:



Ok, glad I could find an excuse to get that picture in there...

Fire Drills and Yankee Doodle

Nothing particularly coherent about my day today, and in that spirit, here are a few random thoughts. We have become completely desensitized to fire alarms - it's "the boy who cried wolf" times a thousand. When was the last time you heard a fire alarm go off and thought to yourself "gee golly, it's really great that we have electronic devices that sense smoke and emit an amplified noise to warn us all of the potential danger we may be facing!" Yeah, that's what I thought. We're a lot more likely to groan, finish that email, leisurely put on our coat, and walk slowly down the stairs, maybe stopping at the bathroom on the way out. Two fire alarms in the last two days and zero corresponding fires suggest to me that this attitude ain't going to change any time soon.

No possible segue, so I won't even try. In the London underground system, there are semi-circular areas sprinkled around the stations that provide a site for sanctioned street performers to perform. Everyone always walks on by, acting as if they didn't exist, giving a slight half smile of appreciation in the best case scenario. But kids are a different story. They don't know that you're supposed to ignore these people. The last couple of days, I've seen a few kids stop walking, let go of their parent's hand, and start dancing to the music. It's a reassuring picture of innocence; I think we're subconsciously trained to view street performers with suspicion or at least wariness. Or maybe not so subconsciously - when one child tired of dancing and walked off to join his father, the performer stopped playing, scowling at his audience, upset that he didn't capitalize financially on the child's momentary joy. I guess it goes both ways.

Explore! Do it!

So this weekend was the Explore! conference at the Royal Geographic Society, the meeting that tells you everything you need to know about planning and running an expedition to the ends of the earth. The speaker's list is pretty intimidating; probably >50% had climbed Everest, and the ones that hadn't were too busy walking across Antarctica in the winter with only a t-shirt while dragging a Land Rover behind them and juggling penguins. No, not really. Here's a video from last year giving an idea of what it was all about.

But it was an amazing and inspiring group. Within a few minutes of talking to someone, it would come out that they were planning a trip to Borneo or Mozambique or Nepal to do some field science or raft a wild river. Then they asked me what great trip I was planning, and it was a little anticlimactic.

One of the sessions was a panel workshop about writing for magazines and newspapers, with the idea that one would want to publish experiences from an expedition. We talked a little about blogs vs. "real" articles, and whether or not physical magazines and newspapers are soon to be a thing of the past. I think they will be around for a while. This blog entry, for example, wouldn't be published by any self-respecting magazine in a million years - there's no cohesive story, poor grammar, not much of a real point, etc. But that same informality is exactly what makes a blog appealing, I think. The immediacy of the medium is key - these aren't particularly organized thoughts, just what's on the top of my mind, and I think we can all relate to that. But certainly magazines have a role in all of this - for people who actually want their information in an organized vehicle where quality is assured. In talking to the editors and writers on the panel, it also became apparent that bloggers do it as much for their own benefit as for their readers. So far in my illustrious blogging career, I'd have to agree - it's helpful to get thoughts down on paper...or computer hard drive...and consciously approach events with the aim of getting something out of them.

It takes a lot for me to ask questions at these kinds of things, but I gathered the nerve and asked the panel what some unpardonable cliches in travel writing are. A partial list:
- describing the color of water as "azure" or "aquamarine"
- saying a tropical location has "a palm-fringed beach"
- saying that a city is "a place of contrasts"

And alas, the workshop was over, and as I ventured out into the concrete jungle, I reflected on these sage morsels of wisdom. I walked along the oak-lined avenue past buildings that have stood sentry since Victorian times in South Kensington, a vibrant place of contrasts and contradictions, dreaming of emerald green forests and aquamarine lakes.

Around the world in...13 years!

Wow, lots to get caught up on, so let's get started. The weekend started on Friday with a talk by Jason Lewis and Stevie Smith - Lewis is the first person to have traveled around the world only using human powered transportation. This means bikes, rollerblades, walking, kayaking, and, best of all, a paddleboat type contraption that got him across the oceans. Smith was his companion on the expedition for the first half, then he bailed, and Lewis was on his own. Here's the amazing part - it took him 13 years! He left in 1994 and got back to London in early October.



Needless to say, this was a pretty amazing accomplishment - the willpower needed to move at walking pace across the Pacific Ocean day after day is enormous. But overall, I really wasn't that inspired. This guy spent the prime of his life traveling around the world, often alone. He went out as an idealistic college grad looking for adventure and returned a rootless middle-aged man. Yeah, he accomplished something pretty cool, but at a pretty significant cost. Also, he and Smith had absolutely no training in what they set out to do. They made a big point of this in a self-deprecating way, noting "if we can do this with no training, think what you can do". That's great, but there's something to be said for expertise; it might not have taken 13 years if they had known what they were doing to some extent.

That said, it was a refreshingly human journey, and they were surprisingly open about their own problems. Smith and Lewis had their personal differences, and it got to the point that they crossed the US separately. Lewis suffered from depression in the Pacific and invented characters in his head to keep himself company. So I was left not really knowing what to think. Amazing stories, great physical feat, but when this is what your life is all about, I'm not sure it's all that compelling.

I am Kenyan...for today

Out in the East African savanna, where grasses sway and wildebeest get eaten by crocodiles, Kenyan schoolchildren live in remote villages miles away from health, economic, or educational infrastructure. But having few resources, there are no cars, no bikes to take them to town; no, they must run. Every morning to go to school, they run miles through the countryside, and every evening they run home.

This is the popular folklore surrounding the state of the Kenyan hinterlands, the story used to explain the dominance of Kenyan distance runners. I suspect it's more romanticized than we suspect, but it makes for compelling storylines. Anyway, point is, I was Kenyan today, running to work and running home from work. It was a great feeling, but unlikely to become a routine for a couple of reasons.

First of all, for a town over which darkness falls at 4PM, London has a surprising lack of streetlamps. Wow, that was kind of an awkward sentence, but you get the point. Hyde Park was completely dark, except for the passing lights of more seasoned cyclists. Also, cars will not stop for you. There's no 'pedestrians have the right of way' going on here. This is probably more practical than anything else, since given the millions of pedestrians, a driver would get nowhere yielding to walkers. But regardless, it was nice to get in a couple of runs today, even if I didn't see any water buffalo.

Science in Space

A couple weeks ago, I expressed some...uncertainty about the role of science in our manned space program. Well, I just read an article about space policy addressing this issue, and there may be some cause for optimism.

Historically, science has not been the primary goal of space exploration. When first expounding on the need for a space program, the president's Science Advisory Committee outlined the purposes as follows:

"The first of these factors is the compelling urge of man to explore and to discover, the thrust of curiosity that leads men to try to go where no one has gone before… Second, there is the defense objective for the development of space technology…. Third, there is the factor of national prestige. To be strong and bold in space technology will enhance the prestige of the United States among the peoples of the world and create added confidence in our scientific, technological, industrial, and military strength…. Fourth, space technology affords new opportunities for scientific observation and experiment which will add to our knowledge and understanding of the earth, the solar system, and the universe."

In other words, science was the fourth most important reason for entering space. Since this time, relatively high costs (in dollars in the early '70s and in lives in the last couple of decades) have led us to rethink priorities, a process that culminated most recently in President Bush's Vision for Space Exploration. Whenever they discuss this new paradigm, these articles just cite "the Vision", as if it was some sort of spiritual revelation. Kinda amusing.

Anyway, this re-think has led to "discovery-driven" exploration, a system that puts science first and adapts to the changing scientific landscape to pursue the most important and interesting discoveries. The most compelling scientific missions will be the ones to fly. This seems great in theory, but there are several obstacles.

First, NASA is an organization entrenched in bureaucracy, and inertia is difficult to overcome. This could be said for the space program in general, including its governmental supporters. The article notes that "When members of Congress [stress the scientific purposes of the space program], they give the impression as often as not that they are rationalizing, e.g., that having decided to support a space program out of national pride, they justify it in the name of contributions to science."

Secondly, with so many types of science having a stake in the space program (physics, astronomy, life science, agronomy, materials science, planetary science, microbiology, biophysics, etc.), it's difficult to reach a consensus as to which scientific pursuits have the most merit. But only through a concerted effort by the science community will space science missions be widely embraced by the public and funded by NASA.

And finally, this "best science wins" way of funding missions could be dangerous. If we jump around in order to get the most out of the day's hottest science mission, we would lack depth of study and sacrifice long-term investment in a sustainable exploration program. So a real challenge will be having a long-term program that will fully engage a compelling scientific problem and can still adapt to pursue new developments in science.

Not that I'm biased at all, but doesn't the search for life beyond Earth fill this need? It's a question that engages people around the world, and there are enough scientific avenues to address the question that changes can be accommodated. Now, to be fair, this is in fact a huge driver of NASA's policy, but it wouldn't hurt to make that a little more clear.

Sheepdogs!

The phenomenon of celebrity is pretty odd when you think about it, especially as an outsider. Being a Monday evening, I walked quickly through the rain to the Royal Geographic Society for the weekly lecture. I got there about 20 minutes early only to find that it was standing room only inside the grandiose theater. Turns out the speaker was Nick Crane, just another guy to me, but a renowned television personality to the Brits. He has hosted several documentary series, and his most recent, Great British Journeys, was the subject of the talk.

One thing to come out of the talk was the fact that the English countryside is experiencing a rebirth as a tourist destination. For decades, people have looked at the English countryside as a worn out vision of the past, dreary and dull. So what's the difference now? Well for one, I would imagine it's a sort of cyclic thing - we might be alternately intrigued by and then bored by our own backyard. But I think the larger issue is that we're starting to understand that our world is finite, our actions affect the environment, and we might as well invest in our own surroundings.

He interspersed clips from the show with his talk, and here is my one major conclusion from the evening: sheepdogs are quite possibly the coolest things ever. Have you ever seen one in action? Well, get on that, it's amazing. As they are being herded around, the sheep appeared constantly to be on high alert, as if day after day of being rounded up by the same dog did nothing to dull the terror. What, Spot over there didn't actually attack me the last 5 million times we walked from that barn to this gate? Well today could be the day. That was me being a sheep if you missed that.

And without further ado, I've hunted down this priceless clip of a sheepdog demonstration from the Black Hills National Sheepdog Finals. If there is one thing you do today, it should be to watch this clip. If you're having any self-esteem issues, this should help, and please keep in mind that sheep have feelings too! Enjoy.

Into the Wild

Saw "Into the Wild" last night, the movie about an Emory (Emory was my back-up school!) grad who renounces his family and the material world and embarks on a two year journey to find himself. First of all, I saw a trailer for the movie a few weeks ago, and it gives the general impression that it's a joyful celebration of nature and of a heroic quest. I had read the book on which the film is based, so I knew better, but it seemed clear that distributors were trying to capitalize on the escapist aspect of the beautiful scenery, etc., that was a part of the movie.

Turns out it's a lot more than nice wide shots of landscape - it's really pretty tragic. Now, I love going into the wilderness as much as the next guy, but the movie was a little unsettling at times. I initially felt like they were showing us the "right" way, the "pure" way to experience nature, almost making an example of McCandless (the protagonist). But really, I think his was a perverse use of nature, used as a standard of purity and beauty -- a standard that his previous life and his parents could never hope of matching. He also uses the great American West as an escape route, and he found it easier to run away into the outdoors than face his problems and try to fix them. But the movie also delivered some wisdom, noting through McCandless that "happiness is only real when shared." This revelation serves as the culmination in his search for meaning, and it's elegant simplicity struck me. In an age when we are ever more eager to seek personal achievements and glorify individuals, it's the people we surround ourselves with that are most important.

(Insert group hug here).

Cloudy and Gray in Londontown

Well, today's running club had a small turnout, consisting of me, myself, and I. This is out of an (email) membership of 47 people - you would think at least one other person would come! Oh well, it's not like I can really complain - my attendance has been less than stellar. But the solitude meant I had complete freedom, and I took the opportunity to explore a region of London I hadn't seen before. Got rather lost, eventually found myself by St. Paul's and ultimately made it back. Not the most amazing part of the city, but nice to see something new I suppose.

So we're now a week away from what looks like an amazing conference at the Royal Geographic Society. It's called Explore, and it hooks you up with the best people from around the world in terms of planning expeditions and field science in remote places. Should be very interesting, and hopefully I can volunteer my services for someone's exotic expedition.

And finally, crucial bit of scoreboard-watching to be done today: Israel vs. Russia in the Euro 2008 qualifying tournament. If England wants any hope of just making it into the Euro 08 tournament, Israel's going to have to pull the upset today. Wait a minute, Israel's not even a part of Europe...hmmmm...

That's about all I've got - have a great day!

Earthrise

Wow, this is gorgeous:



And the music was rather soothing as well. This high definition video was taken by the Japanese probe Kaguya - it looks almost cartoonish, especially the earthset. Isn't it amazing, that there is a little piece of machinery out there, right now, about 380,000 kilometers away from the Earth, flying around the Moon and sending information back to us? And that its view of us, everything in our entire world, fills just a few lonely pixels.

I'm reminded of the famous "pale blue dot" photo. This is the greatest distance from which we have ever viewed our planet - it was taken by the Voyager spacecraft from 6.4 billion kilometers away.



I'll let Carl Sagan philosophize about the image - this is a great quote.

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

In the Presence of Nobility

The best talk was saved for last at the Africa health conference yesterday. Sir David King (you know it's gotta be good if he's been knighted), the chief scientific advisor to the UK government, spoke about the government's role in African development and how science comes into play. A couple of interesting things came out of his talk.

He gave a pretty neat definition of wealth, a way to measure the resources of a nation. To him, wealth is comprised of manufactured capital, human capital, natural/environmental resources, and institutions. This is a far cry from the narrow view we often take of a nation's wealth as GDP, and it does in fact encompass many important parts of a society in an sustainable framework. However, its inherent inability to be quantified makes this system rather unlikely to be widely used, as politicians and economists, etc., might have difficulty comparing and contrasting different modes of operation.

Sir King also noted an interesting fact about higher education in India. India has a small number of extremely prestigious technical institutes - think MIT or Caltech...but much harder to get into. For every available spot, 1,000 students apply! That would be an acceptance rate of 0.1%, good for quite a jump up the US News and World report rankings, I would think.

Can you hear me now?

I've spent most of the day today at a conference at the Royal Geographic Society about public health issues in Africa. It's rather strangely called "Africa - Health Matters?" Yes, I suppose health does matter. Maybe the question mark was a typo.

Anyway, lots of men in suits discussing life and death issues of some of the world's poorest, most pitiful places. I was struck by the contrast, which was both inspiring and slightly disappointing. How can we accept our comparatively luxurious standard of living when we know people are dying from completely preventable problems? At the same time, I think it's impressive that so many are willing to devote their lives to this cause that doesn't really directly affect them, so there's definitely something admirable about that.

I caught myself in this developed/developing, rich/poor way of thinking when one of the speakers mentioned the use of appropriate technology in Africa. Turns out that the mobile phone industry in Africa is prolific -- Kenya will soon have more mobile phones per capita than England! In one Nairobi slum, 100,000 people live amid 10 public toilets...and 100 mobile phone stores. I think a common reaction is "why would they need mobile phones? Many Kenyans are struggling to survive, much less using luxury items such as mobile phones." Apparently some groups are trying to use the phones for banking tasks and microfinancing, quickly making the phones an integral part of daily life and economic survival. The speaker's point was that high technology is not just for high technology societies. Just because "we" produce such advanced devices doesn't mean they won't fit a crucial need elsewhere in the world.

Brighton

Went to the coastal town of Brighton yesterday. On the train ride down, we were groaning pessimistically about the gray sky and rain, but we were fortunate enough to witness a couple hours of sunshine, and it was surprisingly beautiful walking along the pier and the pebble beach.



What is it about coasts and views of the ocean that get us all so excited? Why are there no multi-million dollar condo complexes lining the cornfields of Iowa? Well, certainly the sun and warm weather often associated with coasts helps. And the option of going swimming. But there's got to be more, or else homes in central Alabama with pools would fill the same need. Probably stating the obvious, but I think that extra component is the view - the ability to see seemingly forever over a landscape that hasn't changed for millenia, and the sense of mystery and unknown that comes with the ever-changing waves. What's in that water that we can't see? Which colorful creatures are swimming, crawling, squirming around? How many ancient ships have settled on the ocean bottom, and what are their stories?

Apparently it's Christmas!

...or so say my surroundings. It suddenly hit me the other day in an unfortunate deluge of Christmas-themed items - red and green coffee cups, a Christmas-themed travel section in the paper, Christmas lights on Oxford Street, the signs everywhere encouraging you to make Christmas dinner reservations, etc. We complain with amusement how in the States the marketing blitz of Christmas starts earlier and earlier each year, but I think it's even more pronounced in England, especially without Thanksgiving to serve as a buffer. Oh well, at least I haven't heard any Christmas carols yet, though I'm sure that will change quite soon...

Free Running or Running Free?

Tried a new activity today during the lunch hour - free running. It's pretty much running and jumping off things and twisting and vaulting and any other form of acrobatics you are creative enough to try. Or, as the all-knowing wikipedia describes it, a form of "physical art." It started in London as runners became a little more adventurous, incorporating obstacles into their daily exercises and finding fluid, dynamic ways of getting around them. It's interesting to see the sort of philosophical underpinnings of what could easily be interpreted as a few bored kids messing around. The founder of free running, Sebastien Foucan, talks of the sport as a way of "developing self" and "finding your way".

Well, maybe I'll get there eventually, but today I was pretty clumsy. First was as lesson on how to land and fall properly so as to safely distribute weight. Then I tried a little vaulting and some miscellaneous jumping around. I really enjoyed the creative aspect of it; we had basic tools - stacks of mats, a pommel horse, and the walls of the room - and the rest was up to you. Push off that wall into a side vault off that mat into a roll. It was very freeing in that sense - the only limits were your imagination...and your physical abilities, unfortunately.

I also found an inverse relationship between cautiousness and success. The more careful and worried about failure I was, the more I stumbled or tripped or fell. When I was able to loosen up and shoot for the stars, I often did better than I would have thought. Hmmm, sounds like a convenient metaphor for life, but I'll lower the corniness quotient and let that one go for now...

Anyway, here's a clip from the most recent James Bond movie showing a great example of free running (the jumping and vaulting that is...not so much the shooting). The guy being chased is the sport's founder, Mr. Foucan. Enjoy!

Expensive Construction Projects

First of all, went to get coffee(!) this morning around 7 at my friendly neighborhood Starbucks. I was shocked to discover that they don't open until 7:30. What kind of self-respecting coffee shop...Starbucks no less...opens at 7:30? Don't they usually open around 5? Anyway, the good news is that the early bird gets a seat on the Tube, so the commute was relatively luxurious since I wasn't plastered awkwardly against some stranger's shoulder today.

Anyway, making page 43 headlines today, the space shuttle Discovery landed yesterday. Most shuttle missions these days focus on constructing the International Space Station - the goal is to get that finished and retire the shuttle by 2010, and only the shuttle has the ability to lift large pieces of space station into orbit. This mission was more complicated and technically demanding than most. Astronauts completed several challenging spacewalks, fitted the space station (ISS) with another module, and repaired a couple of key components. Here's the thing, though: despite the highly technical feats that were accomplished, I still find it hard to get excited about these kinds of missions - in the end, it was little more than construction work. NASA's purported goals for the ISS are to maintain a human presence of space (better to stay where you are than move backward I suppose) and perform scientific work from orbit. So what's this science component about?

Space-related science is generally derived from four sources - the engineering challenges associated with getting there (rocket engines, propulsion technology, etc), remote sensing once you are there (i.e. Hubble and other space-based telescopes), study of the destination (lunar geology), and applying microgravity to other scientific disciplines. Our current human spaceflight program is all about the final category - seeing how our bodies respond to space, how plants respond to space, how crystals respond to space, etc. I guess my point is that microgravity research, while possibly important and certainly interesting, is merely a side-effect of a past political agenda. After getting to the moon, we found ourselves in a place that just so happened to have no gravity, so to take advantage of that and justify the continued inhabitance of low-earth orbit, this scientific program took root. In other words, science is not what is driving human spaceflight right now, and I think that is a crucial point. If we want to really expand our reaches into and knowledge of our universe, pushing humans farther into space is vital; not only would this invigorate propulsion technology but it would also allow us to do more science at the places we visit. Hopefully we can begin to see humans in space as more than a political bargaining chip and start to get more out of the huge potential of space exploration.

Running in Wales

Just got back from one of the best runs in recent memory, along windy roads through the Welsh countryside. Started out uphill in the late afternoon, with a gray sky (what else is new?). The landscape is beautiful in a dull sort of way - muted browns, oranges, greens, and grays. Few trees. Rounded hills that look slumped, tired, worn. Stone walls that mark territory that have probably been standing for centuries. Unfazed sheep with neon spots on their backs to identify their herd. I climbed the hill, pushing myself to the top, panting and feeling the saturation that precedes sweat. As I eased over the hill, I found myself on a road leading towards another mountain, but this one looked different - it was black, cut up, and in shards. I arrived at the base of the hill several minutes later, and found that I was at the slate quarry trail. Wales is world-famous for its slate, the smooth, amazingly flat dark gray stones that are often used as roofing material. And this is where is was harvested. The entire hillside, maybe 400 meters up, was a loose pile of slate, with razor-sharp edges.

I slowed to a walk to check out the trail, and it led past old structures and cog rails associated with the quarry. I did a little prospecting myself, combing the piles for smooth pieces that I could take home. Hey, they sell this stuff for big prices in the giftshops, might as well cut out the middle man, right?

By now it was getting dark and I needed to get back. Once I was back on the road, a trail of orange streetlights marked my path, and lights from settlements in the distance flickered on. As I neared our lodge, I passed by an old church - moss-covered stones, faded stained glass, and a graveyard of toppled headstones in front. It was almost dark, making it all the more eerie. A little ways off, a family had gotten a head start on Guy Fawkes' Day, with a large bonfire lighting up the night. If you're looking for a good place for a horror movie, this was it. I enjoyed the air of mystery and intrigue a little longer, and went inside for a nice warm shower. Runs in new places are always a great way to see the area, and this time was no exception.

Walking in Wales

This had to have been one of the most random weekends I've ever had. On Thursday night, I found myself in a cabin in the distant countryside of north Wales with 22 people I had never met before. Long story.

But the good news is that I was in a hotspot for walking. Ok, vocabulary lesson: "walking" in England means "hiking" - something much more vigorous than going around the corner for a cup of coffee. Took me a while to learn that one. Also, "pudding" refers to any kind of dessert, so don't say you don't care for pudding and then be surprised when you don't get served ice cream or cakes, etc. for the rest of the weekend. Hypothetically, of course.

Anyway, the Snowdonia region of Wales is known for its great crags and rocky cliffs and exposed peaks. I had always been skeptical of a 3000 foot "mountain," but at least now I can see it's not a huge stretch. You'll never have a multiple day ascent here, but it's a great place to practice climbing, scrambling, etc. On Friday, we went up Tryfan, a rocky peak that challenged our 19-person group with slippery precipices and challenging scrambles. Fortunately, hand holds on this type of weathered, chunky rock were abundant, making it more fun than dangerous.

After Tryfan, the plan was to continue up to a higher peak, then traverse across a ridge and come down to where we had parked the cars. It stared to get late, but our leader assured us he knew what he was doing. Around 4, a dense fog came over the peak, and we were still at the top. Visibility started to go soon thereafter, and we had hardly started the descent. When it finally became apparent that daylight was becoming an issue, we headed down as soon as possible, hoping to get down off of the cliffs before it became dark and overly dangerous. It was nearly dark by 5:30, but we had made it down the most challenging part. There was a lake in the distance, which supposedly was the location of a path that would lead us to the parking lot. Tramped through about a mile of bogs to the edge of the lake: no path. Went around the lake trying to find the path in the dark: no path. At last we just went downward, and were lucky to spot two lonely headlights tracing out a road. Upon consulting the map, we found that we had gone down the wrong side of the mountain. We weren't just a little bit to the west, or a few hundred meters down the road, we were on the opposite side of the entire mountain! Fortunately, there was a hotel nearby, and we used their phone to get some friends to come pick us up.

One of the most surprising thing to me was how cheerfully everyone accepted what was going on. The prevailing attitude was one of adventure, as if everything going to plan would have been a bit of a disappointment. It was unusual to find myself as the most bothered by the debacle we had just experience. I'm up for an adventure as much as anyone, but the danger we had experienced, of twisting or breaking limbs, of being stuck in the cold Welsh wilderness overnight, etc., was completely avoidable. I'd prefer to find my challenges to come through new physical obstacles or unavoidable difficulties, not mere carelessness. Well, at least we made it out, and the good part of arriving back late in the day is that dinner was already made :)

Bramall Lane

One short month after choosing the English football ("soccer") team to which I will devote my life, I had the incredible fortune of watching them play live last Wednesday night. While this event probably did not quite hold the same gravitas as it might for one who has idolized the Gunners for a lifetime (that's usually how these things work), it was nonetheless pretty dang sweet.

Ok, so here's how getting a ticket for an Arsenal match works. Three options.

1. First, you hope that you win the genetic lottery and are born into a family that owns season tickets. Then you merely fork over a giant hunk of cash each season for the honor of a seat at Emirates Stadium.
2. Assuming you are not quite as lucky, you join one of a number of groups supporting the team. I'm still trying to figure out how this part works, but I think that you pay for the distinction, and with it comes the opportunity to purchase a set number of tickets. Needless to say, tens if not hundreds of thousands of people fall into this group, but there are tickets for each game that will be supplied to these fans. Not all of them of course -- no, you must win a lottery for the privilege of buying a nosebleed ticket for 66 pounds.
3. You pretend to be a supporter of a really bad team with apathetic fans that just so happens to be playing Arsenal, buy "home" tickets and travel to the game. You must not, however, show your true allegiance to Arsenal, or the apathetic home fans might suddenly become more interested...in beating you up.

Needless to say, I chose option 3. The sacrificial lamb took the form of the Sheffield United football club, and I took the train 2.5 hours north, met up with my sister who had purchased 14 pound 7th-row tickets, and took my place as an imposter Blades fan. It was a 4th round Carling Cup match, which fell somewhere between clipping fingernails and polishing shoes on Arsenal's list of priorities. This meant that the real stars, the Cesc Fabregas and Emanuel Adebayors of the team, wouldn't be playing.

Anyway, turns out these so-called football players are pretty impressive. It's one thing to see a match on tv, with the ball moving slowly around the field, and quite another to see it in person. Yes, they can run fast and jump high, but I was most impressed by their ball handling skills. As somewhere barely able to reach the outfield in a game of kickball, I was amazed at their ability to fire a pass 30 yards across the field and control the ball immediately. Very impressive -- inspired me to try and play a little if I can find the chance.

I was sitting next to an old man who lectured his grandson(?) the entire time about how terrible Sheffied United was. He was pretty unforgiving considering his team was hugely overmatched, playing quite possibly the best club team in the world. Arsenal ended up winning comfortably, 3-0 ("three-nil" in these parts).

The highlight occurred about 8 minutes into the game, as Arsenal was in control of the ball and moving it downfield. Eduardo de Silva, a promising young Brazilian, got possession and rocketed a swerving shot to the top left corner of the goal, beating the goalie. Being 10 meters from the goal, I could hear the perfect swish of the ball hitting the back of the net before the cheers of my fellow Arsenal fans across the stadium. You won't get that paying 66 pounds at Emirates Stadium. Check it out.