I had a long weekend working on a paper that I submitted today. It's just a conference proceeding paper which for a mathematician means a paper that isn't all that amazing. Mine is cute; it says something interesting, but it isn't very sophisticated. In fact, there aren't really any new ideas in the paper, just a means for interpreting some work and stating what the latest conditions say.
Anyway, in the UK people are very organized. At a bus stop, the "queue up." Seriously, they're not just all standing around at the bus stop even if it is just two people; they stand in a line. (So, no wonder they need to have so many different kinds of whisky, they can't even relax while waiting for a bus.)
One serious positive of all this organization is the way cross walks work, at least in Edinburgh. Traffic light goes green and the cars go with the standard rotation. But then, when it is safe to cross, no cars are moving in any direction. This means you can diagonally cross the street. Ahhhhhhhh! Every single time I am crossing a street diagonally on a green crossing sign I think, "Why do I have to be on a small island with people driving on the wrong side of the street to get to cross diagonally."
Monday 22 February 2010
Thursday 18 February 2010
Super Bowl in Scotland
So, much like skiing in Switzerland, I forgot my camera. So there are no pictures. (I can hear Amy from here: “You’re such a man.”) I was able to find a Super Bowl party hosted by the Edinburgh Wolves, an American Football team. I figured there would be maybe 100 people at this bar that they rented out for the night. The game was on from 11:00pm to 3:30am. It cost £5 to enter (or $8). Unfortunately, you then also had to pay for your beverages and food (if you wanted any). So, I walked from the Heatherlea to the bar, which took about 30 minutes. I timed it perfectly, walking in the door at the national anthem. Well, it turns out that there is a decent fan base here, and the bar was packed. I would guess there 400-500 people there, not 100. Although there were TVs all over the place, I couldn’t get into position to see one. I looked upstairs and spied a group of three gents seated at a table for 6 with a premium view of a big screen. I decided waiting any longer would spell disaster.
I went to the table, asked if anyone was sitting there. This was the gist of the conversation:
Me: Is anyone sitting here? May I sit here?
Calem: Well, our mate is on the way. Sorry!
Me: So he’s not here? He’s coming later?
Calem: Sorry mate, you can’t sit here ‘cause our friend is coming.
Me: Okay… (throwing my jacket down on the bench seat and sitting)… I’ll get up, no questions asked, as soon as he gets here.
Calem: So you’re gonna sit there anyway, even though I said no?
Me: Yes. (pause) Look, I’m not going to bother you and when the rest of your friends arrive, I’ll get up and leave, no questions.
The response was icy but I didn’t appear to be in danger. I waited a few minutes before making a comment or two. Long story short, Calem, Johnnie, and the other guy were buying me drinks by the end of the Super Bowl and their mate never showed up. Calem spent a good five minutes apologizing for “not being so friendly” at the beginning.
So there were very few if any other Americans at this ordeal. When I asked what people were going to do about work the next day, my new friends simply responded “What do you mean? They’ll just go to work.” I asked, “Won’t they be drunk?” Laughter was followed by a unanimous “This is Scotland!”
The Scottish knew more about the NFL than I thought they would. They knew players, starting lineups, had opinions about players. The strangest thing was that 90% of the bar wanted the Saints to win and they booed Manning when his picture appeared. Like Manning or not, you simply can’t boo the guy. That’s like booing the president or the pope; like them or not, you just don’t boo people of such significance.
I was very excited when the game was clearly going to overtime. I mean, Manning had the ball and all the time in the world. At the interception, the bar rang the bell. Seriously, they still ring a bell here for last call. It means 15 minutes. Second bell means too bad, no more drinks. That has two important points. First, they still use a bell to announce last call. Second, the bartenders knew enough about American Football that the interception triggered last call. I was impressed.
I was able to see the commercials as a one hour continuous episode on Fox Sports. It might still be there. I told these three guys that they were missing one of the most enjoyable parts of the SB, namely the commercials. They thought I was kidding. I never convinced them that we get refills and take restroom breaks during play so as to not miss a commercial.
I went to the table, asked if anyone was sitting there. This was the gist of the conversation:
Me: Is anyone sitting here? May I sit here?
Calem: Well, our mate is on the way. Sorry!
Me: So he’s not here? He’s coming later?
Calem: Sorry mate, you can’t sit here ‘cause our friend is coming.
Me: Okay… (throwing my jacket down on the bench seat and sitting)… I’ll get up, no questions asked, as soon as he gets here.
Calem: So you’re gonna sit there anyway, even though I said no?
Me: Yes. (pause) Look, I’m not going to bother you and when the rest of your friends arrive, I’ll get up and leave, no questions.
The response was icy but I didn’t appear to be in danger. I waited a few minutes before making a comment or two. Long story short, Calem, Johnnie, and the other guy were buying me drinks by the end of the Super Bowl and their mate never showed up. Calem spent a good five minutes apologizing for “not being so friendly” at the beginning.
So there were very few if any other Americans at this ordeal. When I asked what people were going to do about work the next day, my new friends simply responded “What do you mean? They’ll just go to work.” I asked, “Won’t they be drunk?” Laughter was followed by a unanimous “This is Scotland!”
The Scottish knew more about the NFL than I thought they would. They knew players, starting lineups, had opinions about players. The strangest thing was that 90% of the bar wanted the Saints to win and they booed Manning when his picture appeared. Like Manning or not, you simply can’t boo the guy. That’s like booing the president or the pope; like them or not, you just don’t boo people of such significance.
I was very excited when the game was clearly going to overtime. I mean, Manning had the ball and all the time in the world. At the interception, the bar rang the bell. Seriously, they still ring a bell here for last call. It means 15 minutes. Second bell means too bad, no more drinks. That has two important points. First, they still use a bell to announce last call. Second, the bartenders knew enough about American Football that the interception triggered last call. I was impressed.
I was able to see the commercials as a one hour continuous episode on Fox Sports. It might still be there. I told these three guys that they were missing one of the most enjoyable parts of the SB, namely the commercials. They thought I was kidding. I never convinced them that we get refills and take restroom breaks during play so as to not miss a commercial.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
Fasting and Abstinence
So, does it count as fasting or even abstinence if you eat this epic pile of fish and chips?
So seriously, I didn't eat that on during a fast. Actually, I was walking home a bit late one evening. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I ended up in the fish and chips place that's always calling my name. They had no fish. I thought, "well, I don't really want to wait," and then the proprietor said, "Mate! Wait five minutes; it'll be worth it. This fish is huge!" And he held it up prior to frying it. To be honest, I didn't need a lot of convincing, but he was right, that fish was huge. The coke can in the picture is a standard size can.
(I felt simultaneously fantastic and awful after eating this beast of a meal.)
So seriously, I didn't eat that on during a fast. Actually, I was walking home a bit late one evening. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I ended up in the fish and chips place that's always calling my name. They had no fish. I thought, "well, I don't really want to wait," and then the proprietor said, "Mate! Wait five minutes; it'll be worth it. This fish is huge!" And he held it up prior to frying it. To be honest, I didn't need a lot of convincing, but he was right, that fish was huge. The coke can in the picture is a standard size can.
(I felt simultaneously fantastic and awful after eating this beast of a meal.)
Tuesday 16 February 2010
The Edges of Edinburgh
When I came back from working so hard in Switzerland, I thought I deserved some rest and relaxation. So I took the weekend off.
Seriously, I hadn’t exercised very much in Villars while eating three course meals. I felt full the entire time. I don’t like feeling full. I don’t want to feel hungry, but feeling full makes me feel lethargic. Also, the only time I exercised was when skiing. So, I had to get moving. On Saturday I did a bit of walking in Edinburgh, but in the afternoon decided it was time I ride my new bike to the Sea. The Scots have a nice rails-to-trails program, and I road along a paved railway for about five miles to the town of Portobello, on the water.
I walked up and down the seaboard for about thirty minutes and then headed back along the same route. Most of you might not be aware of my compulsion to touch water, but for those who are wondering, I went out and touched the water. It was warmer than I anticipated, but even the dogs seemed to think it was too cold to get into.
On Sunday I ran to the Royal Observatory. This is actually the second Royal Observatory in Edinburgh. The first is downtown and was there when the city was small. As the population grew and then electricity introduced, the light from the city made the first observatory far less useful. They built a second that was so far out of town they would never face this issue again. They actually had to protect the land around this “new” one to keep it from being knocked down for flats.
So here I am in front of the observatory.
Turning to the South, you see that this is in some sense the edge of town.
But, now turning east, you see the King’s Buildings, where I work (well, if the picture wasn’t awful, you’d see that).
And, turning a bit to the northeast, you see Edinburgh. The large land forms across the way are Arthur’s Seat (the highest, round portion) and that sheer faced cliff on the left is the Radical Road from a previous post.
I ran down into town to scope out areas of town we might want to live in. When I got to the Meadows, I took this picture of the castle. (On the right, under the tree branch, the castle appears to be sitting on top of buildings surrounding the park.) Yes, indeed, I think we should live very close to this park.
It was a lovely run.
Seriously, I hadn’t exercised very much in Villars while eating three course meals. I felt full the entire time. I don’t like feeling full. I don’t want to feel hungry, but feeling full makes me feel lethargic. Also, the only time I exercised was when skiing. So, I had to get moving. On Saturday I did a bit of walking in Edinburgh, but in the afternoon decided it was time I ride my new bike to the Sea. The Scots have a nice rails-to-trails program, and I road along a paved railway for about five miles to the town of Portobello, on the water.
I walked up and down the seaboard for about thirty minutes and then headed back along the same route. Most of you might not be aware of my compulsion to touch water, but for those who are wondering, I went out and touched the water. It was warmer than I anticipated, but even the dogs seemed to think it was too cold to get into.
On Sunday I ran to the Royal Observatory. This is actually the second Royal Observatory in Edinburgh. The first is downtown and was there when the city was small. As the population grew and then electricity introduced, the light from the city made the first observatory far less useful. They built a second that was so far out of town they would never face this issue again. They actually had to protect the land around this “new” one to keep it from being knocked down for flats.
So here I am in front of the observatory.
Turning to the South, you see that this is in some sense the edge of town.
But, now turning east, you see the King’s Buildings, where I work (well, if the picture wasn’t awful, you’d see that).
And, turning a bit to the northeast, you see Edinburgh. The large land forms across the way are Arthur’s Seat (the highest, round portion) and that sheer faced cliff on the left is the Radical Road from a previous post.
I ran down into town to scope out areas of town we might want to live in. When I got to the Meadows, I took this picture of the castle. (On the right, under the tree branch, the castle appears to be sitting on top of buildings surrounding the park.) Yes, indeed, I think we should live very close to this park.
It was a lovely run.
Monday 15 February 2010
Swiss Wrap-up
The meeting ended, with yet another lovely three course meal served with a desire to be perfect. I had mentioned that Switzerland was expensive, and a colleague replied, “Switzerland is expensive, but you always get the service you’re paying for.” The best way to visit Switzerland, it turns out, is when the EU is paying for your lodging and meals, and the National Science Foundation your airfare.
The weather was not ideal for amazing Alpine views, but it was easy to get the point. Below are a few photos.
After three hours on a train, two flights with a lay-over, and a taxi, I made it home on Friday night. The meeting was very interesting and I began a collaboration with two electrical engineers. Hopefully we can get something out of the project we started during the meeting.
There are many wonderful things about being an academic, in particular a mathematician. One example is a meeting in Switzerland. But each night at dinner, I was reminded of my absolute favorite part of being active in mathematics research. The first night, my dinner table was occupied by an Italian, two Iranians, an Israeli, and me, an American. Think about the power of science in that context. Of the 19 people at this meeting, the participants claimed nationalities from Belgium, France, Greece, India, Iran, Israel, Italy, Serbia, South Korea, Turkey, United Kingdom, and United States. Now that’s a dinner party.
Now it's picture time. When I got on the slopes, I realized I had forgotten my camera, so there are no skiing pictures. (Actually, I think I was still subcontiously contemplating never telling anyone I went skiing with inspiration taken from the pacifist Swiss.)
First, this is the hotel.
My room came with turn down service. They even came in once it was dark to turn on a light for you. (The first day I was confused; I was certain I had turned the lights off.)
This was the view from my room the first day. It snowed and was cloudy the whole time.
The second day, you could see a bit more into the valley.
I tried to capture the mountains across the way, but the camera couldn't really distinguish the mountains from the clouds. This is a doctored version of the photo so you can see the mountains.
Here are some other pictures from off my balcony. I love the houses.
In Austria and Switzerland, they love wood. They never paint it. If it is made of wood, it looks like wood. And they don't go through a big hassle of making it all smooth. The wood looks like wood. Here are some examples:
My room
The meeting room
The restaraunt (I apparently did not take a picture of the very intricate woodworking above the tables we sat at each night.)
the bar
Oh yeah, and look back at the picture of the hotel.
Finally, I snapped this photo on the train down the mountain. I post it here because of the cool effect. If you look carefully in the "sky" you can see me taking the photo. What you can't make out, is I'm sitting with an Iranian, or that strangely, the woman across the aisle is holding a fish bowl, whispering to the fish for the entire hour.
The weather was not ideal for amazing Alpine views, but it was easy to get the point. Below are a few photos.
After three hours on a train, two flights with a lay-over, and a taxi, I made it home on Friday night. The meeting was very interesting and I began a collaboration with two electrical engineers. Hopefully we can get something out of the project we started during the meeting.
There are many wonderful things about being an academic, in particular a mathematician. One example is a meeting in Switzerland. But each night at dinner, I was reminded of my absolute favorite part of being active in mathematics research. The first night, my dinner table was occupied by an Italian, two Iranians, an Israeli, and me, an American. Think about the power of science in that context. Of the 19 people at this meeting, the participants claimed nationalities from Belgium, France, Greece, India, Iran, Israel, Italy, Serbia, South Korea, Turkey, United Kingdom, and United States. Now that’s a dinner party.
Now it's picture time. When I got on the slopes, I realized I had forgotten my camera, so there are no skiing pictures. (Actually, I think I was still subcontiously contemplating never telling anyone I went skiing with inspiration taken from the pacifist Swiss.)
First, this is the hotel.
My room came with turn down service. They even came in once it was dark to turn on a light for you. (The first day I was confused; I was certain I had turned the lights off.)
This was the view from my room the first day. It snowed and was cloudy the whole time.
The second day, you could see a bit more into the valley.
I tried to capture the mountains across the way, but the camera couldn't really distinguish the mountains from the clouds. This is a doctored version of the photo so you can see the mountains.
Here are some other pictures from off my balcony. I love the houses.
In Austria and Switzerland, they love wood. They never paint it. If it is made of wood, it looks like wood. And they don't go through a big hassle of making it all smooth. The wood looks like wood. Here are some examples:
My room
The meeting room
The restaraunt (I apparently did not take a picture of the very intricate woodworking above the tables we sat at each night.)
the bar
Oh yeah, and look back at the picture of the hotel.
Finally, I snapped this photo on the train down the mountain. I post it here because of the cool effect. If you look carefully in the "sky" you can see me taking the photo. What you can't make out, is I'm sitting with an Iranian, or that strangely, the woman across the aisle is holding a fish bowl, whispering to the fish for the entire hour.
Sunday 14 February 2010
"I live in the USA!"
After mass today, a woman tried forcing something into my hand. I inquired. She loudly blasted me with gibberish. The retired bishop who says mass each week was looking at me like I was offending the woman. There were other women doing the same thing to other people. Finally, I just yelped, “Uh, I don’t live here; I live in the USA!” She took the thing back with some commentary. I got about a block away when it hit me: she was trying to get me to take home a rice bowl; Lent starts this week. Problem was, they don’t call it a rice bowl but a SCAIFE Bowl, and she was so excited about it that her Scottish accent made it impossible for me to think while she was speaking. Now, I hope the pastor returns soon so I don’t have to see that Bishop again next Sunday.
Internet problems: Pics from Switzerland coming tomorrow.
Internet problems: Pics from Switzerland coming tomorrow.
Wednesday 10 February 2010
Dictionary Learning and Slopes
The meeting I am attending is actually pretty productive. It might be more productive if the lunch break was a bit shorter, but it is productive in any case. Yesterday, during the “lunch break” I went skiing. After changing clothes, renting ski equipment and traveling up to the slopes via train, I was on the slopes for more than three hours. I then took a train back down, returned my ski equipment, changed clothes, and made it back to the meeting just before the end of the lunch break.
It was a lot of fun. I fell only three times, although one was a doozy (see comments on previous post). I was skiing rather well by the end of the day. I stuck to the blue slopes (which are the easiest, equivalent to greens in the USA) and spent most of the day skiing on my own. There were two options amongst the mathematicians: ski school for beginners or skiing with two very good skiers. The two good skiers agreed to take me down a blue run at first and then go their own way. I thought this was very nice of them and opted for that approach. It was helpful. Ivan had to bring me a ski on two occasions.
There is actually some math going on here as well. Several good projects have been identified and we are now broken into groups of three or four and formulating a work plan to complete these projects. I am working on a theoretical project regarding localized dictionaries and the implications for signal reconstruction from the analysis coefficients versus the synthesis coefficients. If all goes well, there should be a paper in a few months for you to read.
It was a lot of fun. I fell only three times, although one was a doozy (see comments on previous post). I was skiing rather well by the end of the day. I stuck to the blue slopes (which are the easiest, equivalent to greens in the USA) and spent most of the day skiing on my own. There were two options amongst the mathematicians: ski school for beginners or skiing with two very good skiers. The two good skiers agreed to take me down a blue run at first and then go their own way. I thought this was very nice of them and opted for that approach. It was helpful. Ivan had to bring me a ski on two occasions.
There is actually some math going on here as well. Several good projects have been identified and we are now broken into groups of three or four and formulating a work plan to complete these projects. I am working on a theoretical project regarding localized dictionaries and the implications for signal reconstruction from the analysis coefficients versus the synthesis coefficients. If all goes well, there should be a paper in a few months for you to read.
Tuesday 9 February 2010
“Well, I guess we’ll have to meet in Switzerland”
I haven’t posted in a few days, but I should be excused. It has been quite a busy few days. First of all, I worked all day Saturday and Sunday so that we could a different paper back to the editor, this time to SIAM Review. (SIAM is the Society for Industrial and Applied Mathematics.) Most importantly, I had to plan for the Super Bowl, which was on TV here from 11:00pm – 3:30 am. The Grey Horse wouldn’t be open at those hours. More about the Super Bowl in a subsequent post.
Then, on Monday, you see I had to sleep for most of the day after the Super Bowl. When we lived in Germany, the US Army always gave us Super Bowl Monday off. I was pretty sure no one would care (or even notice) if I took most of Super Bowl Monday off. Nonetheless, I was in the office by half noon (12:30) working some more on the SIAM Review article and preparing for a very important meeting this week.
You see, this week I am at a brainstorming meeting. We are meeting to discuss research ideas and directions for analysis dictionary learning. I know nothing about this subject, but was invited along. The hard part is, during the last meeting, when discussing the venue for the next meeting, they were hoping for something more interesting than London. One of the main guys on the grant suggested he host the meeting near Ecole Polytechnique Federale de Lausanne. Someone asked precisely where, and he said a ski lodge. At that point, the head of the grant announced, “Well, I guess we’ll have to meet in Switzerland,” and they settled on the mountain resort town of Villars, Switzerland. If it wasn’t already dark here, I’d take a picture of the view out my window. So, I’m in Switzerland after two planes and two trains and many hours of travel. The venue for this meeting is, well, how should I describe this… ridiculous; it’s Switzerland.
Best part of French speaking areas: saying my own name. Every time I say my name, someone looks at a list, and then looks at me like I am stupid. They ask me again, I say my name “Jeff Blanchard (blan-churd)”, and they look over the list a second time. Now they’re convinced I am not on the list, so I either point to my name or say it the way they read it.
“Oh,” they say, “zshe freigh blaughn –shawd.”
I reply, “Yes, indeed, Jeff Blanchard.”
One time, at a hotel in San Malo, France, this exchange took place. Then, the woman behind the counter laughs a bit, takes out her wallet, shows me an ID card on which her last name was Blanchard. Of course, she pronounced it blaughn shawd. Every morning, she made a big deal announcing my French name the first time I saw her. (That was funny. Here, they seem to just think I am so stupid I don’t know my own name.)
Then, on Monday, you see I had to sleep for most of the day after the Super Bowl. When we lived in Germany, the US Army always gave us Super Bowl Monday off. I was pretty sure no one would care (or even notice) if I took most of Super Bowl Monday off. Nonetheless, I was in the office by half noon (12:30) working some more on the SIAM Review article and preparing for a very important meeting this week.
You see, this week I am at a brainstorming meeting. We are meeting to discuss research ideas and directions for analysis dictionary learning. I know nothing about this subject, but was invited along. The hard part is, during the last meeting, when discussing the venue for the next meeting, they were hoping for something more interesting than London. One of the main guys on the grant suggested he host the meeting near Ecole Polytechnique Federale de Lausanne. Someone asked precisely where, and he said a ski lodge. At that point, the head of the grant announced, “Well, I guess we’ll have to meet in Switzerland,” and they settled on the mountain resort town of Villars, Switzerland. If it wasn’t already dark here, I’d take a picture of the view out my window. So, I’m in Switzerland after two planes and two trains and many hours of travel. The venue for this meeting is, well, how should I describe this… ridiculous; it’s Switzerland.
Best part of French speaking areas: saying my own name. Every time I say my name, someone looks at a list, and then looks at me like I am stupid. They ask me again, I say my name “Jeff Blanchard (blan-churd)”, and they look over the list a second time. Now they’re convinced I am not on the list, so I either point to my name or say it the way they read it.
“Oh,” they say, “zshe freigh blaughn –shawd.”
I reply, “Yes, indeed, Jeff Blanchard.”
One time, at a hotel in San Malo, France, this exchange took place. Then, the woman behind the counter laughs a bit, takes out her wallet, shows me an ID card on which her last name was Blanchard. Of course, she pronounced it blaughn shawd. Every morning, she made a big deal announcing my French name the first time I saw her. (That was funny. Here, they seem to just think I am so stupid I don’t know my own name.)
Monday 8 February 2010
Saturday 6 February 2010
"He's British."
A colleague, Andrew, and I have a written a letter to the editor of Applied and Computational Harmonic Analysis (ACHA is the leading journal in our area of mathematics, which is called the same thing) detailing a very common misconception in our field that seems to be popping up in, unfortunately, ever single paper on a particular topic. Journals such as this have an editorial staff that consists almost completely of volunteers who are primarily mathematicians from academics who serve on the editorial staff as a “service” to the mathematics community. When you write a paper and submit it to a journal, it is first read by one of these editors, and then sent out to other volunteer referees. They read it, check the math, and decide if it is worthy of publishing in the journal. This takes a while, roughly a year from start to finish. Anyway, we got our letter back with a friendly review asking us to address a few points.
Andrew is a PhD student and therefore shares an office. I am a visitor and therefore share an office. We decided one day to meet about revising the paper with the referee comments in mind. In the center of The King’s Buildings (the awesome name of the campus on which The School of Mathematics resides) is essentially a student union known as KB House. The best part of this place is that they have 9 beers on tap. The bar is also a coffee shop and serves some food. The worst part of this place is the food.
So we had a table and I went and ordered a Panini. The chap taking my order seemed very put off by the fact that I was ordering food. It was not really lunch time so I figured this was the problem. When my Panini was ready, he didn’t say anything at all, just set it down on the counter and took my “your order is ready” beeper. Hmmmm. Andrew and I talked for about an hour, working out the details of when a certain condition could be useful. When leaving, Andrew and I put our dirty plates and such on the counter and Andrew gave the usual, “Cheers!” to the guy behind the bar. The reaction was a head nod, possibly with a mumbled return cheers, but certainly nothing like thanks for brining your dishes up and spending your money in our place.
As we walked out, I said to Andrew, “Gosh, that guy sure was angry. He was angry that I ordered a Panini, angry that he had to make it and serve it to me, and he seemed angry even that we put our plates on the counter.” Andrew just started laughing. Then Andrew says, “He’s not angry, Jeff; he’s British.”
Andrew is a PhD student and therefore shares an office. I am a visitor and therefore share an office. We decided one day to meet about revising the paper with the referee comments in mind. In the center of The King’s Buildings (the awesome name of the campus on which The School of Mathematics resides) is essentially a student union known as KB House. The best part of this place is that they have 9 beers on tap. The bar is also a coffee shop and serves some food. The worst part of this place is the food.
So we had a table and I went and ordered a Panini. The chap taking my order seemed very put off by the fact that I was ordering food. It was not really lunch time so I figured this was the problem. When my Panini was ready, he didn’t say anything at all, just set it down on the counter and took my “your order is ready” beeper. Hmmmm. Andrew and I talked for about an hour, working out the details of when a certain condition could be useful. When leaving, Andrew and I put our dirty plates and such on the counter and Andrew gave the usual, “Cheers!” to the guy behind the bar. The reaction was a head nod, possibly with a mumbled return cheers, but certainly nothing like thanks for brining your dishes up and spending your money in our place.
As we walked out, I said to Andrew, “Gosh, that guy sure was angry. He was angry that I ordered a Panini, angry that he had to make it and serve it to me, and he seemed angry even that we put our plates on the counter.” Andrew just started laughing. Then Andrew says, “He’s not angry, Jeff; he’s British.”
Thursday 4 February 2010
Highland Park, 12yr, Island
Highland Park 12yr
Island
40% abv
Color: Amber, almost orange, so clear you can see right through it from the top (of course this also means my glass was not thick bottomed, but anyway)
Nose: It’s very sweet and subtle; it smells more like white wine than whisky; it is very pleasant, but not very formidable. (After a few sips, it smells smoky, still sweet, but now it’s smoky until the end.)
Palate: super smooth, light and sweet; easy to drink; illusive, it’s hard to say when the taste ends and the aftertaste begins
Finish: lightly in the nostrils letting you know it is there, then it’s suddenly smoky and strong, and just as quickly it’s gone, with a lingering taste of sweet whisky. (I have to say that I was quite surprised by the finish after smelling it for about five minutes and then it tasting so light. The finish is complex.)
Overall: A highly enjoyable whisky to drink, rather involved. The smell and taste are rather different than the aftertaste. Enjoyable complexity. Even though the smell gets smoky while drinking it, I wish it smelled a bit bolder. In that case, I’d love it. With the smell it has, I like it a lot. (You’ll have to place yourself in 8th grade to decipher the meaning there.)
-bonus, this was free... I sort of borrowed it from the owner of the Heatherlea.
Quick note:
-technically, when I say you can see the North Sea in any of the pictures, I am incorrect. It is the Firth of Forth, but whatever, it's the North Sea. Here's a map; the water near Edinburgh is technically not the North Sea. I just felt I had to share this.
Island
40% abv
Color: Amber, almost orange, so clear you can see right through it from the top (of course this also means my glass was not thick bottomed, but anyway)
Nose: It’s very sweet and subtle; it smells more like white wine than whisky; it is very pleasant, but not very formidable. (After a few sips, it smells smoky, still sweet, but now it’s smoky until the end.)
Palate: super smooth, light and sweet; easy to drink; illusive, it’s hard to say when the taste ends and the aftertaste begins
Finish: lightly in the nostrils letting you know it is there, then it’s suddenly smoky and strong, and just as quickly it’s gone, with a lingering taste of sweet whisky. (I have to say that I was quite surprised by the finish after smelling it for about five minutes and then it tasting so light. The finish is complex.)
Overall: A highly enjoyable whisky to drink, rather involved. The smell and taste are rather different than the aftertaste. Enjoyable complexity. Even though the smell gets smoky while drinking it, I wish it smelled a bit bolder. In that case, I’d love it. With the smell it has, I like it a lot. (You’ll have to place yourself in 8th grade to decipher the meaning there.)
-bonus, this was free... I sort of borrowed it from the owner of the Heatherlea.
Quick note:
-technically, when I say you can see the North Sea in any of the pictures, I am incorrect. It is the Firth of Forth, but whatever, it's the North Sea. Here's a map; the water near Edinburgh is technically not the North Sea. I just felt I had to share this.
Monday 1 February 2010
A Walk Through New Town
So I went on a walking tour out of a guide book. It was 36°F out and windy which wasn’t super pleasant, but it wasn’t so bad either. I walked roughly 8 miles over 3:51. This isn’t exactly the route because google maps is stupid and won’t let you simply tell it where you went, but it is smart in that it allows you to click link and reproduce what you done. Anyway, between B and C on the route listed here, I saw three houses in which Robert Lewis Stevenson, James Clerk Maxwell, and Alexander Graham Bell lived. Three important men, each with three necessary names. I'm assuming no one needs a link to have a clue who Bell is. Anyway, Stevenson (Treasure Island; Jekyll and Hyde) simply lived in one of the houses for about 23 years, but Maxwell and Bell were born in the houses I saw. It’s impressive, even refreshing, to me how much they value science. I later passed two graveyards, one where John Napier is buried with a very large plaque stating that the "Inventor of Logarithms" is buried there. The other lists Colin Maclaurin, of Maclaurin series fame, as one of a few very important long term residents of the yard. When teaching calculus, you mention these two mathematicians.
Maclaurin shares the graveyard with Greyfriars Bobby, the most famous dog in Edinburgh. His owner was a bobby and died. This dog went to the grave of his owner every day for 14 years, staying there the entire day and protecting his owner. When this dog finally died, he did so on his owner's grave. The people of Edinburgh erected a monument to him as an example of true loyalty and he was buried in the Greyfriars Kirk yard with his master. ("Kirk" means "church" I think.)
So the dog is cool, but seriously, Maclaurin proved that every infinitely differentiable function has an exact infinite power series expansion about zero. Maclaurin get’s my vote for productivity; Greyfriars Bobby gets my vote for loyalty and heartwarming story.
Anyway, it was a bit cold to take too many pictures. Here is a picture of me in front of the house in which John Clerk Maxwell was born.
This was not on this walk, but in May, 2008, when I spent a week in this house at an international meeting. Maxwell is of course responsible for Maxwell’s Equations, a fundamental leap forward in the understanding and study of electricity and a much more significant contributor to classical physics than just that. Maxwell is listed on this building as a Natural Philosopher, meaning he was a theoretical physicist. In his day, there was little distinction between a physicist, astronomer, or mathematician. Anyway, this house is now the International Center for Mathematical Sciences. I presented a riveting talk entitled, “Minimally Supported Frequency Composite Dilation Wavelets” in this house. It was cool to be speaking in his house even if the twenty audience members were mostly sleeping or writing emails.
These pictures are from today. First we have a picture of the water of Leith which runs through New Town. I went down and walked along this path.
At the beginning, you can look at this interesting set up in Dean Village, a former center for mills. This water was held back to power a mill or two and feeds into the Water of Leith.
I took this picture of myself from Dean Path with the church in the background, because, well, it's awesome.
Final note, I can't believe that they still have phonebooths, especially decorative ones. I've actually seen maybe four people in two and one half weeks using phone booths. Crazy.
- If you want to see any picture I post more closely, just click on it.
Maclaurin shares the graveyard with Greyfriars Bobby, the most famous dog in Edinburgh. His owner was a bobby and died. This dog went to the grave of his owner every day for 14 years, staying there the entire day and protecting his owner. When this dog finally died, he did so on his owner's grave. The people of Edinburgh erected a monument to him as an example of true loyalty and he was buried in the Greyfriars Kirk yard with his master. ("Kirk" means "church" I think.)
So the dog is cool, but seriously, Maclaurin proved that every infinitely differentiable function has an exact infinite power series expansion about zero. Maclaurin get’s my vote for productivity; Greyfriars Bobby gets my vote for loyalty and heartwarming story.
Anyway, it was a bit cold to take too many pictures. Here is a picture of me in front of the house in which John Clerk Maxwell was born.
This was not on this walk, but in May, 2008, when I spent a week in this house at an international meeting. Maxwell is of course responsible for Maxwell’s Equations, a fundamental leap forward in the understanding and study of electricity and a much more significant contributor to classical physics than just that. Maxwell is listed on this building as a Natural Philosopher, meaning he was a theoretical physicist. In his day, there was little distinction between a physicist, astronomer, or mathematician. Anyway, this house is now the International Center for Mathematical Sciences. I presented a riveting talk entitled, “Minimally Supported Frequency Composite Dilation Wavelets” in this house. It was cool to be speaking in his house even if the twenty audience members were mostly sleeping or writing emails.
These pictures are from today. First we have a picture of the water of Leith which runs through New Town. I went down and walked along this path.
At the beginning, you can look at this interesting set up in Dean Village, a former center for mills. This water was held back to power a mill or two and feeds into the Water of Leith.
I took this picture of myself from Dean Path with the church in the background, because, well, it's awesome.
Final note, I can't believe that they still have phonebooths, especially decorative ones. I've actually seen maybe four people in two and one half weeks using phone booths. Crazy.
- If you want to see any picture I post more closely, just click on it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
