I'm a Leftist!

On Saturday, I bought a van and drove it straight to Costco!





Seriously, driving on the left is definitely different, but that isn't the hard part. It is a standard, and a diesel. This means, that you MUST wait to turn the ignition until a coil has warmed up. I can't remember to do this and that is going to destroy the darn van. Second, the stick is on the left, but the gears are in the same positions. On one hand, knowing where the gears are might be helpful to some. On the other hand, if you brain works like mine, I think of first gear as close and forward and wish that the gears were a mirror image of what they are in a right handed standard.

The most difficult thing is definitely the different driving styles. The roads are quite narrow and there is literally no parking. So the cars are parked on the narrow roads. There is some etiquette I hope to figure out soon on who gets to go when. For the most part, it appears to be a game of chicken.

I have had zero accidents and only one honking incident involving a roundabout, yet another fun challenge. (I've of course faced roundabouts in Germany and such, but they're a little different here. For example, here you go around them the wrong way!)

The funniest adventure was parking this in the lot behind the Heatherlea. By lot, I mean backyard. By yard, I mean very small area. The lot is at the end of a very old alley, which I believe was designed to allow single file horse caravans. The mini-van had roughly two inches of clearance on either side. I got it in, but then getting it out was a bit of an ordeal. It is a challenge to judge the distance to the left side of a car after 18 years of judging the distance to the right. It really is different. Anyway, I did a 76 point turn, only to realize I was now facing a direction which meant that I could proceed no more. So, I undid the 76 point turn, let some exasperated motorcyclists down the alley, and started over. The second go was reduced to a 23 point turn and a van facing out of the alley. Bulls-eye! (When I got back from Costco, I did the 23 point turn first, and then backed into the Heatherlea. Now I can drive straight out ... at 0.3 miles per hour hoping not to rub a mirror off the van.)

Fortunately, I have insurance!

Cambridge, Part II

These are some more pictures of my trip to Cambridge. The point here is that they are a bit lighter than the previous post. Let's get the two serious pictures out of the way. First, we have the Isaac Newton Institute for Mathematical Sciences (had to be shared).


Second, we have the gate of honor. I pulled a cheapo move and listened to a guided tour I wasn't a part of. This gate is for Trinity College and is only opened once a year. There are three gates, Humility (students pass under this everyday), Virtue (students pass under this to go eat I think) and Honor. This is only opened after exams for the graduating students. It is open for one day for them to pass in and out. Best part of that story was after he finished, a janitor came out the small door in the middle carrying a tea kettle. Everyone laughed and the guide was distraught!


Notice that on all sides of the clock tower, the clocks are sun dials. Awesome!

Anyone want to watch a wee match of little league? Yes, indeed, one must take a photo of little league cricket!


Now onto the garb. The students and faculty still where academic gowns regularly, althought I forgot to find out exactly who, when, and why. But, people would be walking around wearing gowns. I thought they looked very Harry Potter as daily wear, so I will henceforth call them cloaks. You can tell by length of sleeve and length of cloak what status a person holds. I knew someone who would like to see this, so I hid in the bushes to take a picture of a lad in a cloak crossing the street. Stupid Taxi.


Then I chased him like paparazzi!


On Thursday night, my host had a conflict so I went and walked around town myself. I took many pictures, but felt the need to share this public lawn bowling green in one of the parks.


I ended up eating fish and chips in a pub, the Baron of Beef, and drinking a few pints. I worked a bit behind the bar; good times!


I had sampled a few ales and had just enough guinness to get lost on the way home. Fortunately, I ran into these two. With those smart cloaks on, I knew they'd know the way. Thanks guy with the GPS ap on his iphone for directions and letting me taking your picture!

Cambridge

I recently went to Cambridge to give a talk in the Numerical Analysis Seminar. It was, truthfully, quite an honor and I will try to refrain from further boasting. The fact is there are a few ways to get invited to speak at Cambridge. The most notable method is to become a world leader in your field. My method was slightly less noble, but equally effective. At Edinburgh, our reading group hosted a speaker from Cambridge and we all went to dinner. I walked him home, slyly mentioned I had never been to Cambridge, and that I would love to see the medieval colleges. Shortly thereafter, I received an invitation. “Knock, and the door shall be opened.”

I will first tell you that when you meet someone from Cambridge, they are certain to tell you where they are from, even more so than academics from Harvard, Yale, or MIT. It is just cultural, they want you to know they are from Cambridge. There have been a few notable students and faculty at Cambridge. I’ll give the example of Sir Isaac Newton, who among his many accomplishments, graced us with calculus. In my biased opinion, this is indeed his greatest contribution as Newtonian mechanics are simply inexpressible without calculus, but calculus is completely independent from physics. In fact, calculus has a fantastically larger footprint than Newtonian mechanics. (To be academic, Newton shares the invention of calculus with Liebniz, and of course Newton did not invent the calculus we know and love today, but laid its foundation. I’m getting a bit off topic here.) My point is I found this need to announce affiliation with Cambridge to be a bit obnoxious, yet here I hypocritically post about speaking there. Having been there, I can see to a degree why one would let this little piece of information (affiliation of some sort with Cambridge) slip into the very early stages of conversation. The place is amazing in its history, architecture, atmosphere, landscaping, bravado, traditions, administrative structure, formality, class system, commercialization, and reputation. There's a reason that Harvard, the first institution of higher education in the USA, was founded in a town named Cambridge, Massachusetts.

You are not permitted to walk on the grass. Well, you are not permitted to walk on the grass unless accompanied by a Fellow of the college. There is actually a sign at the entrance to the colleges stating this exception to the “Keep of the Grass” signs. This is a way of compensating the senior faculty by giving them status. It was interesting to watch fellows walk across the grass. This was done less as a shortcut, and more to announce that indeed they were a fellow of the college while tourists and students walking along the stone pathways watched the fellow in the grass, unable to look away and providing this ingenious, currency-free compensation. Even trying to consider it objectively, I could not help but watch the fellows walk across the lawn, nor could I bear to see a student cut a corner.

One of the most amazing things about Cambridge is the mathematical facility, The Centre for Mathematical Sciences. It is a humungous compound, completely dedicated to the mathematical sciences including physics. There is certainly nothing to match it on the rest of our planet. You might not know any of the mathematicians, but this is where the famous physicist Stephen Hawking works. (I didn't drop in; I don't think he was expecting me.)

I could ramble on, but this is a blog and you’re already tired of reading. I’ll finish with some photos. The photos from above were taken from the top of the bell tower of St. Mary the Great University Church.

Here are some photos of King’s College. My host was once a PhD student at King's College so he is a lifetime member. He was gracious enough to take me to Evensong, a choral evening prayer service featuring the amazing Choir of King's College. You’ll notice the sign warning of doom for treading on the grass. The building behind me, was the location of dinner. The students of the college live in these buildings, surrounded by the walls. Tourists pay to enter.






The following photos are of St. John’s college.



This is inside the living area of St. John's College. These are essentially dorms for Cambridge undergrads. (Looks just like Newman Hall.)

The tower in the distance to the right in this next one is St. John's Chapel, the same tower from the photo above.


In the picture above, the college in between St. John's and Kings (to the left of this photo frame) is Trinity College. Finally, some of the Gardens of Trinity College and some pics of the River Cam.





I’ll post again shortly with a few more photos of a lighter nature. I might have incorrectly identified some of my photos, so if you're from Cambridge and I said something wrong, I hope you didn't just choke on something in reaction to my ignorance.

Royal Mile

The Royal Mile in Edinburgh extends from the Edinburgh Castle to the Palace at Holyrood. Last Saturday, I walked down to the Royal Mile and explored some whisky shops. These are some pictures I took that day with brief commentary.

I first went to St. Giles, Cathedral. Church of Scotland. My favorite thing inside is a collection of colors (flags) carried in battles from the past millenium. No photo rule I respected on the flags.


Somehow, I ended up paying a whopping £13 to be admitted to the Castle. This time, there was no angry, armed guard. I did not take a photo the Scottish crown jewels and the stone of destiny because the guard seemed ready to enforce the no photography rule. I did take a lovely tour with this guide.


Here is a view out the north facing side of the castle, below is New Town.


The soldiers of the castle adopted dogs from time to time. If the dog or owner was important enough, the dog was buried in this little doggie cemetary.


This building was erected as a memorial to the Scottish soldiers who died in WWI, the war to end all wars. In the middle is an alter with the names of all the soldiers who died in WWI on a scroll in a casket-like chest. Unfortunately, WWI did not end all wars, but the Scotts, always looking to save a buck, simply add names to the scroll rather than build a new monument. But, every Scotsman who has died in service is listed in that chest.


This castle was built on this volcanic rock and sits high above the city. It has been taken only by siege and once by stealth, but never by force. The alter in the previous paragraph is built onto the highest point of this rock which burst through the floor as the foundation of the alter.


The castle has been used to hold prisoners of war for many wars, including what they call the American War for Independence. When you tour the prisons, there is a room with three doors on display where prisoners have carved names and dates. Some of the dates were very old. This, however, was by far my favorite, an early version of the Stars and Stripes carved by a prisoner. (While I was relatively certain there was a no photo rule here as well, I looked for both a sign and a guard. Seeing neither, I photographed a 230 year old door carving which should be fine.)

A Pastoral Visit

I had my first visitor in Edinburgh, none other than Fr. Nick (my pastor in the US) and Paul (his friend and traveling buddy) who are visiting Scotland for ten days. (Before passing judgment on Paul's hair in this picture, keep reading.)


They arrived in Edinburgh on Sunday and I walked down to their hotel to meet them for dinner. We decided to head over to New Town to the posh restaurants and pubs of George Street. When asked if they were hungry, both Fr. Nick and Paul replied that they were thirsty so we looked first for a pub. We had past several unimpressive places when we stopped to take a picture of the Edinburgh Castle towering over New Town.


This lovely photo op was followed by an epic moment. As we walked to the next pub, a rather full seagull jettisoned its waste in our general direction. Protected by the holiness of the priest by my side, the very loud splattering sound revealed that Nick and I had made it through unscathed. However, the sound of irritation in Paul’s voice, “You’ve gotta be s@!#in’ me!” warned of Paul’s misfortune. Only upon his turning toward us did we see the full magnitude of his misfortune. Having known Paul for roughly twenty minutes, I felt very bad for him and headed for a bar to find some napkins; Fr. Nick, as only a true friend could, simply forced Paul to pose for pictures while he heckled him and laughed hysterically. I was getting napkins so I didn’t take a photo. While Paul was attempting to clean himself up in a pub bathroom, I did take this photo of the display on Nick’s camera. It gives the general idea.


We began with some Tennant’s at the Rose and Crescent. This is like pint number one, so despite the picture, we aren't remotely intoxicated. However, this picture does capture the spirit of the evening better than the subsequent picture.


Fr. Nick suggested we take another as proof of our sobriety after previewing the first picture. I agreed but somehow bug-eyed!


We then had dinner at Le Monde, a new age bar/restaurant on George Street with a decent sized menu. After many questions and long discussions with the staff, we all got fish and chips. Delicious for sure, but somehow not the same as the stuff from the little chip shops. I’m sure this was better for you, and even tasted better, but it wasn’t the same. Fr. Nick decided that instead of ordering side dishes, he'd have a second meal via Guinness.


We walked back to High Street and stopped in one more pub for a pint, a very nice bar with a Caledonian 80. After a bit, I headed home on a bus (it was just too cold to walk).

We had made plans for night number two, but I had to change them as the restaurant near Leslie's was closed. So, instead of a night of single malts at Leslies, we went for the subdued couple o’ pints and some Scottish fare at Greyfriar’s Bobby Bar just outside the Greyfriar’s Kirk yard. I felt like Nick and Paul had to know the story of Greyfriar’s Bobby before they left Edinburgh. (If you’re new, I wrote about this before.) I recently took this picture of the Greyfriar’s Bobby monument.


It was great fun to have Fr. Nick and Paul visit, and I hope they enjoyed my company as well. They are off to the Highlands to castles and distilleries and St. Andrew’s Golf course, and I am off to Cambridge tomorrow. I’ll let you know how my trip goes and be anxious to hear from Nick about the rest of theirs.

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.

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.