tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28469891943860423032024-03-13T02:07:08.610+01:00Jeff's StuffJeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-78735270692653635222023-01-02T19:06:00.004+01:002023-01-02T19:06:46.338+01:00Anti-Resolutions for 2023<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfaqbA_4NJKzTk-7lXHoM97ZN8TRWGmb6YlDlRxAwls1PerjuJPf9JRvyIgx8e4Q4GwGMF1MZiTCCAQztKv7799SPU0S2dhMi5fln8q0eetoq62Ng3lKgl1oN8NDpb73GCzcU6teV93PAfrsd80XM5Szx05P8EUlIOAO5MEM08kPS1AhPved546c6/s5472/handwriting-2023-blackboard-countdown-2023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfaqbA_4NJKzTk-7lXHoM97ZN8TRWGmb6YlDlRxAwls1PerjuJPf9JRvyIgx8e4Q4GwGMF1MZiTCCAQztKv7799SPU0S2dhMi5fln8q0eetoq62Ng3lKgl1oN8NDpb73GCzcU6teV93PAfrsd80XM5Szx05P8EUlIOAO5MEM08kPS1AhPved546c6/s320/handwriting-2023-blackboard-countdown-2023.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Designed by Freepik</td></tr></tbody></table></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-fbdb7a5e-7fff-8403-ad47-f3f097ea4aa7"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 3pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">For several years, I would write a yearly Gartner blog post with my anti-resolutions on or about January 1. They were “anti” because rather than talk about what I intended to do, I would describe what I think other people should stop doing. I stopped writing them because I was afraid they made me sound too grumpy. They have all disappeared since I stopped working at Gartner, so it is impossible to judge. I felt like doing them again, so here they are for 2023. </span></p><h2 dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stop Worrying About How AI Will Destroy Us</span></h2><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started getting bored of SciFi books, movies and series where the AI or a robot decides to kill everyone soon after </span><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064177/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Colossus: the Forbin Project</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> in 1970. Now that it looks like they really could do so, I still find most of these discussions boring. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Figuring out how to use the amazing capabilities of AI effectively and safely is a far more interesting discussion. These discussions revolve around questions like who owns the technology and the answers it generates, how can we protect intellectual property when it sucks up content created by others to learn, and how do we know if content is created wholly or partly by an A. or do we even need to know?. These and 100 others are all important issues to debate, thrash out, and ultimately deal with. I purposely avoid the word “solve” here, as I don’t think there will be a single mechanism or innovation that will resolve any of these issues, much less all of them. But we can learn to control them if we resolve to do so. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The boring discussions circle endlessly around how to stop the evil moguls behind these cursed creations from achieving their evil plans, or how to get this genie back in the bottle. Good luck with that. Those really are the wrong questions to be asking (or at the very least they are boring), so please stop it. </span></p><h2 dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Don’t Depend on Great Men to Save Us All</span></h2><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was a Gartner analyst, I always found it amusing to visit one of the tech companies led by one of the Great Men of Tech. I can remember a hush falling over the room when beefy bodyguards flowed into the room, signalling the imminent arrival of Larry Ellison at an Oracle event. I loved the look of awe that would come over acolytes when I would mention briefly meeting Bill Gates at an early Silicon Valley reception. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By the way, I feel justified in saying Great </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Men</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> because so far only males have accumulated the truly ridiculous baggage that I am talking about here. Carly Fiorina, Marissa Mayer and Elizabeth Holmes did their best but managed to avoid these levels of awe and expectations. I think that is a good thing. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is normal that the leader of a large organization will generate interest, even admiration; but the level of expectation and wonder around people like Jeff Bezos, Mark Cuban, and especially Elon Musk has grown beyond reason. There is too much evidence that shows that these are intelligent people who do smart things sometimes and also do</span><a href="https://slate.com/technology/2021/07/bezos-blue-origin-resembles-penis-rocket-scientist-explains-why.html" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> stupid stuff</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. A great part of their success is inevitably down to luck. Yes, they have exhibited hard work, careful preparation and extraordinary insight. But lots of smart people work hard, plan ahead and analyze carefully without accumulating economy-busting fortunes. Everyone needs to stop assuming that they have some special god-like gift that transcends them beyond normal human experience. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This extreme adulation also seems misplaced. Microsoft became an objectively better company after the super-sized personalities of Bill Gates and Steve Ballmer left the stage for the more human-scaled Satya Nadella. As brilliant as he was at pushing product designs, it is unlikely that Steve Jobs would have led today’s Apple as well as the more even-keeled Tim Cook. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I still think excellence and achievement should be rewarded, and don’t expect tech leaders to all be boring apparatchiks. I am just asking for a bit of perspective, is all. A </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acquisition_of_Twitter_by_Elon_Musk" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">dumb idea </span></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is not smart because it comes from a smart person. </span></p><h2 dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gendered Articles Must Fall</span></h2><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This one is totally unrelated to tech. Gendered articles need to be recognized as unimportant in the languages I need to speak. There, I said and I mean it. I try to speak Dutch, French and sometimes German. I adore languages and revel in the subtle differences between them. I love it when an idea is expressed perfectly in one language but impossible to adequately translate into another. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I have always struggled with those stupid hets, des, les, less, ders, dems, dies and dases. I made an effort to find a system, or memorize them. Sometimes I would just mumble my way past them and hope no one notices. I would feel embarrassed and inadequate when I got them wrong. </span><span style="border: none; clear: left; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 291px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; overflow: hidden; width: 291px;"><img height="291" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/cNbnChohY9Cekgi3uYVgoV_ZSY3ykN-bktsGP9N0xnP7O6iG884O9qdMRqE9e_mxTJERJDFPYiv7jJ8GfizUg_0xMI7ucLfmH_Q7TL90dseFFURA4z33qNJtpK7AYnKHlW_OdH3sJCldfEqVWANgIlM7jcDoUX1zDn5vxbKpjAtkP3hNhSf3hkhbmw8ZYw" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="291" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have now decided this is a waste of time and energy. They add nothing except stress, confusion and difficulty. I am </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">done </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with all that. I refuse to give in to this tyranny of gendered articles. Life is too short to devote energy to something that gets in the way of communication rather than encourages it. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I encourage you to join me. If you know the correct article, by all means use it. Otherwise, don’t sweat it; just randomly sprinkle het, de, le, la, der, die, das, etc. If you are listening, let it go especially if you are a native speaker. You know what they mean. </span></p><h2 dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Avoid “Reply All”</span></h2><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 21.259842519685044pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I traditionally close this post with a request to never use Reply All, but I actually don’t feel as strongly about it as I used to. I rarely see abused distribution lists anymore. I am not sure if it is because I am outside of a big organization now (likely) or if people really are minding what they do more (very unlikely). So either keep up the good work, or get with the program. </span></p><br /></span>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-85218487972140848222020-06-11T10:43:00.000+02:002020-06-11T10:43:27.054+02:00How Work Will Change Post-Corona<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life is beginning to look a bit more normal these days, at least in my corner of Europe. I went to a restaurant for the first time in three months last week and regional travel is looking more feasible. What will "normal" mean though as we come out of our shelters, blinking in the sunlight to see what the world looks like now? Certainly, a lot has changed. Some of those changes will stick. But an awful lot will remain the same. We will need wisdom to tell the difference.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Obvious Stuff</span></span></h2>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me get the obvious ideas out of the way first. These are the things that everyone has been talking about as the first impacts of Corona on the workplace.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 20px;">Working From Home Will Increase Substantially</span></h3>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="font-size: 20px;">
The main surprise about the sudden move to work from home is how well it went. When I was an analyst, I spoke with many companies who kind of, sort of thought they should adopt a work from home (WFH) policy, but never really got around to it, citing how difficult it would be. If you looked hard enough, there was always a reason not to do it.</div>
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Well, it happened even if it was not always easy. Most managed pretty well; there was no choice. Necessity swept away all the usual discussions of policies. management styles and security concerns so people just got on with it.</div>
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Once employees get used to working from home, it will be hard to get them back into an office. Tech companies like Twitter have acknowledged this and proactively promised that employees can work from home forever if they choose. Organizations have been forced to change policies and develop processes that let people work from any location. Even if everyone does not stay at home forever, there will be many more taking advantage of WFH possibilities.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">I live in Europe, but have always worked with clients in the US. When they wanted to do a longer meeting and I suggested doing it by video rather than sitting on a plane for 22 hours round trip, they usually reacted with surprise. "Are we not important enough to come see us?" I could sense them thinking. Sometimes they would say it out loud.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">From now on it will usually be the opposite. Travel will not go away, but will be far less common.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">In three months, events have gone from being an industry mainstay into something unthinkable. In February, I was mapping out which events I would be able to make it to this year. In June, it became hard to even contemplate boarding a plane to go spend a couple days in a hotel conference room with thousands of other people. I think events at the scale and prevalence we knew them will not come back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">No Handshaking, But Hand Sanitizer Everywhere</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Maybe more people will use it now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The Less Obvious Stuff</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Looking a bit further out and a little deeper, some changes are not quite so apparent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">There Is No Such Thing as "Post-Corona"</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Despite the title of this post, I don't think that it will make sense to talk about post-Corona anytime soon, if ever. The virus itself is not going away, although the rate of infection will go down with any luck. Even if researchers find a vaccine, the effects of the virus on how we live and work will not disappear. I will never look at a jammed concert hall or crowded economy class flight the same way I did before. Even if I decide to buy a ticket and put myself in those situations, there will always be a nagging disquiet in the back of my mind. An organization that assumes that they just have to wait for clients to come back could be in for an unpleasant surprise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">If you find yourself saying "After Corona is over, we can do XX," then you are doing it wrong.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Anyone putting off plans or implementing changes until after this "Corona business is over" is thinking in the wrong way. Even if governments ease social distancing and travel restrictions, the effects on how we travel, socialize and do business will not fade away. Instead of putting things off until we can get back to a normal that will never come, we need to redesign how we work. This post provides some ideas, but questioning assumptions about all of these interactions is a good way to start.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Digital Transformation Works</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Companies that already had adopted digital technologies generally made it through this crisis much better than those which had not. Organizations which already made extensive use of the cloud, had renovated their applications, and used digital channels to communicate with clients, employees and suppliers were able to cope with the demands brought on by the virus much better than those which had not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Those who relied on processes that involved moving a piece of paper from one desk to another to process orders or who managed by seeing who was at their desks at 8:30 every morning had a hard time. They were scrambling to modify their processes or get equipment issued to staff that would allow them to continue to work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">This should not be surprising. Better agility and resilience are among the most important benefits that digital transformation is supposed to deliver. Guess what? It does. There is no excuse to not go digital anymore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">People Will Be Harder to Find But Easier to Contact</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">The WFH imperative has made most people accustomed to more flexible ways of working, which means they cannot find each other physically they way they used to do. To accommodate working from wherever, effective teams have consciously or unconsciously developed a way to contact each other even if they cannot find each other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">I have worked from home since 1995, so no one can expect to wander down the hall to find me (except my wife). To make it worse, I split time between France and The Netherlands and speak with an American accent. Colleagues and clients would never know where I was, but know that they could contact me on IM, email, Whatsapp or my mobile phone. There is less need to find me if they can easily contact me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Industry Events Need to Adapt</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">It is obvious that Corona damages the events industry severely. It is less obvious what event organizers can do about it. Many events have done an admirable job at quickly switching from in-person meetings to virtual conferences run over web conferencing. While this experience is usually... fine, no one has really cracked the code of making it great. It is OK in reaction to an emergency; for some occasions, it is fine. But sitting in front of a computer at my desk is no replacement for a good conference.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">Good events are so much more than just hearing a speaker. I want to meet other people, gauge the reaction of the crowd, see which stand on the show floor is the most crowded. One of the main benefits is being able to get away from daily work for a couple days and really focus on a particular topic. Virtual events don't really provide any of this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">The business model is another barrier. We have come to expect that online events are free, which undermines the financing model for events. Unless you are a vendor pushing a product, it is hard to see how anyone could invest the resources needed to put on even a virtual event if no one will pay for it. Event organizers will have to experiment with new models that attendees might be willing to pay for, perhaps combining regional locations with a live feed from a central location, or enhanced technical experiences using AR/VR technologies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">So far, I am not impressed. One event I saw asks attendees to pay €99 to listen to a virtual panel discuss the future of work, while charging €249 if you want to ask questions or €399 if you also want a wine package and swag bag to enjoy at your desk. I am not sure what the right model is, but I doubt that this is it.</span></div>
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Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-8964033065931320572016-01-02T14:04:00.000+01:002016-01-04T09:32:40.792+01:00SPOILER-ridden post on my theory about the origins of Rey in Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens. <br />
I've now had almost two weeks to think about the biggest question left unanswered in the new Star Wars film.* Obviously, if you don;t want to see spoilers, STOP READING.<br />
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Really. Go back.<br />
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Last chance.<br />
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<img alt="See original image" src="http://imagesmtv-a.akamaihd.net/uri/mgid:file:http:shared:mtv.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/tumblr_nmwxaieNMz1rvwsfxo2_r1_500-1429215004.gif" sprtid="205.IMG" /></div>
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The film has a few clues as to who Rey is and who her parents are. Some facts: She is very, very strong with the Force, Anakin/Luke's light saber has "chosen" her. Han <a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/tv/tv-news/star-wars-force-awakens-trailer-6825335" sprtid="208.A" target="_blank">accepts </a>her quickly when he is generally slow to trust or make friends. She had a vision just like Luke did on Dagobah. Luke seems to recognize her when they finally meet.</div>
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I considered several theories, and here they are in ascending order of likelihood.<br />
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- She is Luke and Leia's daughter. (probability 1%)<br />
This would mean either Leia is not really Luke's sister somehow, or... ew. Also, Leia would then be cheating on Han. Very unlikely.<br />
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- She is Han and Leia's daughter (probability 9%)<br />
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<img alt="Image result for leia force awakens" sprtid="210.IMG" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" /></div>
It could be that Ley was being trained along with Ben Solo on Tatooine by Luke. When her brother Ben went to the Dark Side and became Kylo Ren, she survived and was hidden on Jakku much like Luke was hidden originally on Tatooine. As a child she probably could not tell the difference between the two planets, so she thinks she has always been on Jakku. That would explain why she is strong with the Force and why Kylo Ren is so interested in her. It also sets up a nice parallel with Luke and Leia. It would fit with the actors because Adam Driver is about 10 years older than Daisy Ridley, so he could easily play her older brother.<br />
But it would not explain why she is SO strong with the Force, or why the light saber has chosen her. If she has the same origins as Kylo, why does she seem to be so much stronger even without any training? She does not recognize Han and Leia when they meet, nor do they act like she is their daughter.<br />
One interesting clue that I don't really believe in, but I would like to think is true: Rey is King in Spanish. Ren sounds like Reine (queen in French). so that might, maybe conceivably point to some gender-bending clue. Remember that Vader means father in Dutch, so there is a precedent.<br />
<br />
-She is Luke and Captain Phasma's daughter (probability 10%)<br />
<div sprtid="213.P">
<img alt="See original image" src="http://cdn.idigitaltimes.com/sites/idigitaltimes.com/files/2015/09/22/captain-phasma-star-wars-episode-7-force-awakens-cast.jpg" height="178" sprtid="212.IMG" width="320" /></div>
We are being led to think that Rey is Luke's daughter. The light saber. Luke's reaction to seeing her. Her abilities. But that leads to the question as to who Rey's mother is. The only possibility I can think of from the movies is Captain Phasma because she is literally the ONLY other humanoid female we know about. That is pretty sad in itself.<br />
They could introduce another character we don't know about or elevate one of the random rebellion commanders we see in the background, but that would be weak.<br />
It is a bit more likely that Captain Phasma is actually a Jedi, who infiltrated the First Order after Kylo Ren's meltdown and is currently undercover. That would explain why it was so easy to overpower her and convince this First Order badass commander to drop the shields. It also sets her up to play a larger role in the next movies.<br />
But overall I think it is unlikely. We know from interviews that Captain Phasma was originally written as a man, and changed to a woman when it was pointed out that Leia and Rey were the only female human characters in the cast. I think it is unlikely that she could stay undercover while billions of people are killed by the Star Killer Base. Also, I look forward to seeing her as a bad guy.<br />
<br />
So that leaves my actual theory:<br />
- Rey is a genetically manipulated clone of Luke Skywalker (probability 80%)<br />
<div sprtid="215.P">
<img alt="Image result for luke force awakens" sprtid="214.IMG" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSPyp9a2Mz8x66nTVCiQbNyHMsO_h1nOQYTjocKG-uibANfSlPf2g" /></div>
She has no father, just like Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader. She literally IS Luke, except for that extra X chromosome. She was left on Jakku to grow up and stay hidden from the First Order. We know that cloning is commonplace in this universe, although it seems to have fallen out of fashion at least for stormtroopers. This would explain the light saber thing, why R2D2 wakes up, her Force abilities, and why Han and Leia accept her so quickly.<br />
<br />
So that is my theory. What do you think?<br />
<br />
* Aside from why they thought it a good idea to create a THIRD Death Star, again with a fatal design flaw that can be exploited by plucky rebel pilots. Do they never learn from history? This time even the janitor knows about the vulnerability.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-53407678633924420192013-03-19T15:46:00.001+01:002013-03-19T15:46:29.872+01:00The Last Days of Rishi Antall<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Note: This is a companion post to the <a href="http://tupine.blogspot.dk/2013/03/i-spent-last-weekend-in-space-how-was.html" target="_blank">previous one</a> about a Nordic Larp I did in Sweden in March set in the world of Battlestar Galactica. To give a better feel for what went on, I wrote this one from the first person view of my character, Rishi Antall. I stole this idea, er... was inspired by Thomas Be, who did a much better <a href="http://www.thomasbe.com/2013/03/17/the-monitor-celestra-battlestar-galactica-larp-in-character-recap/" target="_blank">job</a> with his character's writeup. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have no idea how Rishi is writing this from beyond the grave. That kind of thing happens a lot on the <a href="http://www.celestra-larp.com/" target="_blank">Celestra</a>. I have to warn you: Rishi is not a very nice person. </span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lots of noise coming from the upper decks. We've jumped back to Tauron, but there seems to be an attack going on. "Humanity's children are coming home." Not sure what that means. Down here in sublight engineering, we just keep the engines running and the ship manoeuvring. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It looks pretty bad. The Cylons are back. And they are mad. Millions of Taurons have died. People on the other colonies too apparently. I hope the Captain has a plan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those faster-than-light (FTL) engineers are getting on my nerves, talking about the ship as their "lady cat" like it has feelings or something. Frakking idiots. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vuSLRwa8rgg/UUc2yjOy7MI/AAAAAAAABqs/WQ19qtsdpk8/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vuSLRwa8rgg/UUc2yjOy7MI/AAAAAAAABqs/WQ19qtsdpk8/s320/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-3.JPG" width="238" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">E304R5 must be in there somewhere. </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They are totally lost now that the ship's network is down to keep the C</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ylons off our systems. They are running around looking for valve E304R5 or some such, but it is obvious they have no idea what that valve, or any other control actually does. They just know how to follow an instruction protocol, but have no idea how to actually jump the ship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They have forgotten everything they learned in training. I guess their shipwright never made them drill on manual operations. Puskas did, so we "snails" as the FTLers call us still know how this ship actually works. I don't even want to call them engineers. We may be slow, but we know how to do our jobs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Frakking idiots. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MELXARHGtPE/UUEVvq8rk8I/AAAAAAAACnM/PQft1Kdlwh4/s740/IMGP9651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MELXARHGtPE/UUEVvq8rk8I/AAAAAAAACnM/PQft1Kdlwh4/s320/IMGP9651.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FTLers in the engine room. Looking lost, as usual.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the attack, some civilian vessels were on their way to us. The bluesuits on the Galactica ordered Captain Polos to jump away immediately, but she disobeyed and waited for the civvies. Good on her for not letting more good Taurons die. The captain just made an announcement that the Galactica is sending some bluesuits, engineers and pilots to come "help" us. Wonderful. Just what we need. Help from the Capricans. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't understand the attitude of some of the people on board. They seem to think Taurons might need help from Capricans. I can't get my head around that. Millions of Taurons have died, and someone must pay for that blood debt. Blood for Blood; The Tauron Way. Many are talking about getting revenge on the Cylons, but that is ridiculous. Killing a toaster does not avenge any deaths. If your brother dies in a car accident, you don't free his soul by destroying the car. Someone who can feel must pay. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101035856850_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101035856850_display.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fancy frakking bluesuits. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Capricans invented the cylons. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Capricans control the military which was supposed to protect us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Carpricans dominate the government that got us into this.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We have to defeat the Cylons, but I cannot hate them. Machines do what they are built to do. It's another story for the Capricans and everyone from the Galactica. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Someone told me that there was a civvie from Tauron named Antal who was an aerospace professor. Went off to find him, to see if I have family aboard and to recruit another engineer. It turns out Clem Antal is here with his sister Amira. They are my mother's sister's children. My cousins. Family, even though they were Tropoi and I was Faneia clan. My mother Mara never spoke much about her family, but I knew she was raised a Tropoi. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8A3iwZna8kA/UUEVz13ILgI/AAAAAAAACoE/gZWHRVeOrm8/s740/IMGP9666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8A3iwZna8kA/UUEVz13ILgI/AAAAAAAACoE/gZWHRVeOrm8/s320/IMGP9666.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pilots always think they own the place</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the three of us find a quiet place to talk, a Galactica bluesuit barges in, with a pilot in tow. He wants to know all about us for some kind of inventory of personnel. I can barely bring myself to spit out my name to him. The pilot gets all blubbery about our tragic loss after he leaves. Crying is not the way to grieve. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They have announced a mourning ceremony for all Taurons in the civilian area. Priests speak, and individuals remember those they have lost. I speak of Blood for Blood, and the need to settle the souls of the dead with revenge. Get shouted down, that this is no time for politics. Politics! Vengeance is a part of grief, the largest part to true Taurons. I am not asking anyone to vote for me. I have no time for politics. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W7KLujHJU-0/UUEVkoQXelI/AAAAAAAAClA/YSD5iL_0Quc/s740/IMGP9620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W7KLujHJU-0/UUEVkoQXelI/AAAAAAAAClA/YSD5iL_0Quc/s400/IMGP9620.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I spoke to find other true sons and daughters of Tauron who feel the same way, but no one seems to understand. Except the Guatrau of the Ha'la'tha. She reveals herself, and speaks eloquently for the Tauron ways. I always stayed away from the Ha'la'tha; how can there be honour in sneaking around like they do, dealing drugs, and murdering? But her words give me hope. If the Ha'La'Tha becomes what she describes, it could be the best future for Taurons. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gFs6iqWz4Is/UUEXBlQZxMI/AAAAAAAACxM/-4y6GmFqIyo/s640/IMGP9822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gFs6iqWz4Is/UUEXBlQZxMI/AAAAAAAACxM/-4y6GmFqIyo/s320/IMGP9822.JPG" width="211" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Vergis scientist in holoband room</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I spoke with a Vergis scientist about using the holoband together with Clem and Amira to try and understand the story of our mothers. I slipped them some more power from the power distribution console to butter them up a bit.<span style="background-color: white;"> It helps to know engineers. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">The holoband was very realistic. We appeared in their kitchen with their mother fixing breakfast. The machine pulled out memories to reconstruct that my mother had failed an exam for a Tropoi academy. <span style="line-height: 18px;">Because academic achievement was so important, she "knew" that her family would reject her, so she left and married a Faneia engineer.</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Their mother never knew why her sister had abandoned her and was hurt and angry the rest of her life. Both of them hurt each other and themselves based on expectations and half information. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8g53wIHCqhg/UUEXlD50BWI/AAAAAAAACz4/j4DcGKwyYvs/s739/IMGP9853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8g53wIHCqhg/UUEXlD50BWI/AAAAAAAACz4/j4DcGKwyYvs/s320/IMGP9853.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Master and Captain Polos</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Puskas has been busy. It seems the Galacticans and Vergis corporate suits have been calling the shots, and that has to end. We are taking over the engine room, with a hostage until the Captain is restored. He somehow has acquired some weapons. Galactica marines try to sneak in, but we make them retreat. We know this engine room better than they do. We negotiate with Ops (Galacticans keep calling it CIC, the idiots) until we are sure that the Captain is back in command. A Tauron captain on a Tauron ship! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FmMEf7z6OSc/UUEVAdGbQcI/AAAAAAAACkA/1DfjeRkOyTI/s640/IMGP9609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FmMEf7z6OSc/UUEVAdGbQcI/AAAAAAAACkA/1DfjeRkOyTI/s320/IMGP9609.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marines need to stay <i>down there.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We emerge from the engine room, and I establish myself with a shotgun to keep the Galacticans and Capricans away from Ops. Some marines start to make their way down the corridor, but I wave the gun and they back off. There is a lot of yelling as people try to get past. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I get word from Ops that the Captain wants pilots and Galactica bluesuits to be allowed past. I am crushed. We risked our lives and now she is inviting them back in? How is this possible? But I comply with her orders. I do relieve a few of the pilots of their sidearms though. Did they really think they could come into the Tauron part of the ship with weapons? I draw the line at marines though. I don't like them and they will not pass. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At one point, boatswain Bartos passes word that the head bluesuit is to be allowed past with a marine escort. I guess there is no point in holding this part of the corridor anymore if they allow marines all over the ship. I still respect her command, but I am beginning to think that the captain might be too weak to keep control of the ship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03110515068926_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03110515068926_display.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why are they tolerated on a Tauron ship? </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I head forward to get some food, expecting to be arrested or jumped for waving a gun in so many bluesuits' faces. I guess they have orders to back off, because they leave me alone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With the bluesuits and Caprican marines wandering around, I figure a Tauron in Ops with a weapon could be a good idea. A few minutes after I got there, a line of bluesuits come marching in. They lined up in front of Cpt Polos and snapped to attention. I guess they have something to tell us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The major said that they want to continue to work together with the Taurons, but will not give up their Galactica identity as the Captain had asked. They refused to accept her demands, and said they realized they could be arrested or even airlocked, but were ready to face the consequences. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Tauron heart soared! This was the chance to settle a few blood debts and truly regain control of our ship. But the Captain gave in, again. She said she respected their decision, likening it to something a Tauron would do (disgusting idea). My heart sank as she invited them back into command positions as if nothing had happened. I considered using the shotgun to drive the decision in a different direction, but knew that would be suicide and would change nothing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is getting harder and harder to keep any respect for the captain, but I will try. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The FTLers keep getting weirder. They stroke the engines like a lover and talk to them. They aren't the only ones saying the ship talks to them though. Some strange rumours are coming from the Vergis tower about AIs and sentient computers. Reason enough to stay away from there. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqCWIgMATgo/UUhQ8XY90KI/AAAAAAAABq8/hE8wM0pfiXU/s1600/Photo-14_03_2013-16.19.56-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqCWIgMATgo/UUhQ8XY90KI/AAAAAAAABq8/hE8wM0pfiXU/s320/Photo-14_03_2013-16.19.56-1.JPG" width="238" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found a good chance to mess with the FTLers a bit. When no one was in the engine room, I swapped their lady cat idol for a Cylon doll I got off of a civilian. They think that their machine is becoming sentient and talks to them, so why not a Cylon? Apparently it caused quite a ruckus when someone noticed it. I'm glad I wasn't around; I don't think I could have kept a straight face. I found the doll after it got flung from the engine room, with a head and a hand missing. At least one Cylon got damaged. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am in Ops when it is announced that Cpt Polos will go to the Galactica mess to negotiate with the bluesuits and the politicians. I figure if the Capritrash bluesuits get an escort then so should the Tauron captain and I offer to go with her. She is never threatened except by boredom as the politicians go on and on and on. It seems that they are offering terms as to how she can keep part of her command. How dare they! When she leaves to check in with Ops, she says she will go back to tell them she rejects their offer. I convince her to just leave; the risk that they will arrest her is too great. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The speech she delivered to the ship after the negotiations was a thrill. She started by describing the terms offered by the Capricans, making it sound attractive. Then she rejected them all, as she should. This is a Tauron ship, and it is not up to the Capricans to offer terms as to how the Taurons can retain their own vessel. But she still doesn't eject the bluesuits. I am not sure how this is going to end. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nNozXwdU8xg/UUhvcDDCGjI/AAAAAAAABrM/oSq_3evkYUg/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nNozXwdU8xg/UUhvcDDCGjI/AAAAAAAABrM/oSq_3evkYUg/s320/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-11.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gaspar, the Guatrau. I was unable to protect her. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I run into Puskas and find that he has gotten closer to the Ha'la'tha, especially Gaspar their Guatrau. It looks like they are the only group really looking to defend the Tauron Way and I would like to get closer, or even join this scary organization, if they would have me. The Guatrau is in danger from some turncoat members, and needs protection. I volunteer to help protect her as a way to really do something for Tauron. She goes to Ops to confer with the commanders and I see some of the renegade Ha'la'tha approaching. I hold them at bay for awhile so that she can go out the other way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then things start to happen quickly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was escorting Gaspar to a safe place behind Ops. She went down the stairs first and I heard shouting. When I got down the stairs, I saw the Boatswain Botros with a knife raised in his hand over her, shouting something about honour. I shot him to protect her. Then I shot a Vergis Security who was with him. I went to cover the stairway and was shot by Galactica marines. I lay for a while bleeding, until a medic could get to me. He patched me together and carried me to the med bay. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B-gWAfxjEn8/UUhvybuQF2I/AAAAAAAABrU/a6G3WfIchEs/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B-gWAfxjEn8/UUhvybuQF2I/AAAAAAAABrU/a6G3WfIchEs/s320/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-15.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We never even spoke before this. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">In the med bay, I found out that </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">my contribution was ultimately pointless. Gaspar was already dead, killed by someone I didn't see hiding around a corner. Botros had raised his knife to call for a new Guatrau, not attack her. I also didn't know that that there was a split in the Ha'la'tha and Gaspar had been a bad leader, and maybe even a Cylon. I was probably defending the wrong person, and didn't even end up defending her very well.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Botros explained that there is always blood when the office of Guatrau passes from one person to another, so he did not hold it against me. I was acting</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"> to protect the Ha'la'tha as I understood it so he respected that. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Final irony: After all I did to protect Taurons against the Capricans, who were the real threat, who did I end up shooting? Two Taurons.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I moved around a bit after they were finished with me in the med bay Amira did what she could. When I heard we were going into battle against a base ship, I staggered to my post at the power distribution console. I couldn't fight, but I could still push some buttons, I thought. Death slipped over me when I was slumped in front of the console. Never mind that it took 30 minutes for my sublight colleagues to notice I was dead. Gulyas took good care of me, and sent me out the airlock with beautiful words, into cold space. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The rest of the crew followed soon after. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Photos from various sources, including me and Larson Kasper </span></span><br />
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Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-51014738697076739322013-03-17T17:58:00.002+01:002013-03-19T18:02:32.751+01:00I spent last weekend in space. How was your weekend? <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Last weekend (March 8-10) I had the geekiest, most fun and rewarding experience I can remember doing, pretty much ever. For three days, I was in space on a spaceship in the Colonial Fleet. Let me tell you about it. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZnyMQrWZseA/UUTCVxOi7RI/AAAAAAAABp0/0wwlcoagpQo/s1600/celestra+badge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZnyMQrWZseA/UUTCVxOi7RI/AAAAAAAABp0/0wwlcoagpQo/s1600/celestra+badge.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ship's insignia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am a fan of the rebooted Battlestar Galactica (BSG), one of the best shows that has been on television in my opinion, up there with The West Wing and Star Trek: TNG. I follow a BSG forum on Facebook and in January noticed an <a href="http://www.celestra-larp.com/" target="_blank">item </a>that looked interesting. A group in Sweden was creating a real life game based on the BSG universe. They would create costumes for participants, rig a 1950s Swedish destroyer to look like a space ship and come up with the story line to be played out over the course of a weekend. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That sounded pretty cool. I wavered about doing it, but my wife encouraged me. Hennie said "You have to do this. You will regret it forever if you don't." As usual, she was right. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101043831239_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101043831239_display.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Initial briefing outside the ship</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is called a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Live_action_role-playing_game" target="_blank">larp </a>(live action role play). I had never heard that word before, and googled it, expecting it to be some Swedish term. It turns out that larping is a huge scene pursued by thousands of people, with all sorts of sub cultures (black box larping, fantasy larps, medieval larps...). I had heard of medieval fairs or war re-enactors but that kind of thing never interested me. This sounded, and was different. The group organizing this event did a huge amount of preparation to create a realistic, involving and engaging experience. I really feel, no I <i>know,</i> that I was in space, fighting Cylons and finding a way to live together with refugees from the other colonies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-60F2_ZN6p8c/UUTHhVZX5uI/AAAAAAAABqI/U1qHqNBu3Kg/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-60F2_ZN6p8c/UUTHhVZX5uI/AAAAAAAABqI/U1qHqNBu3Kg/s320/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-5.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A prop notebook </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This would be a<a href="http://nordiclarp.org/" target="_blank"> Nordic larp</a>, which emphasizes improvisation and emotional involvement more than winning or competition. One of the Italians I met on the boat described their preconceptions about Nordic larping as "People crying in a corner because their character is so sad." Most people were shocked when I said that this was my first larp. Most have been doing it for years, and treated this one as the ultimate experience they had been building up to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A few weeks ahead of the event, I got a short overview of the character I would play: Rishi Antall, a sublight engineer on the Celestra crew. I was encouraged to fill in more details myself within the guidelines of the character sketch. A week or two later I received a more detailed outline which also described the political and social environment I would be in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I already knew most of the background from watching BSG. In the BSG timeline, this event would start just after the mini series and before "33" for those who know it. A lot of the Celestra story deals with Tauron culture, so I ordered the Caprica series on DVD. Caprica is a far inferior prequel to BSG, but it has useful information about what it is like to be a Tauron. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rtXm5DMCzIo/UUTHLOIG7QI/AAAAAAAABp8/2MZg56FxmAo/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rtXm5DMCzIo/UUTHLOIG7QI/AAAAAAAABp8/2MZg56FxmAo/s640/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-7.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my fellow sublight engineers. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I got to Gothenburg on Thursday March 7 and met up with some of the other sublight engineers. The next morning, I got my costume and we set off of the ship. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> We got some final instructions and went aboard. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101054096302_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101054096302_display.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Torpedo console</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> The organizers had done a marvellous job kitting out an old Swedish destroyer to be a ship in the Colonial Fleet. Many of them were game designers I found out later, so they built custom consoles for helm, navigation, torpedo control, power distribution and damage control. The atmosphere on board was exactly how I expect an interstellar space ship would be. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xegJFg05xOM/UUTHjND5HKI/AAAAAAAABqQ/6agCrSQzvQA/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xegJFg05xOM/UUTHjND5HKI/AAAAAAAABqQ/6agCrSQzvQA/s640/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-2.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Engine room</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101045919969_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03101045919969_display.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Galactica and Celestra officers in Ops/CIC</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I would spend most time in the engine room and at the power distribution console. We quickly figured out the tradeoffs of which function (helm, communications, damage control, weapons...) should get how much power, how hard to run the reactor, battery charge level and waste buildup. The engine room had lots of satisfying levers to throw and knobs to twist that we associated with various ship operations. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4aGRcths2Gs/UUEULktkS1I/AAAAAAAACcw/AZVp1hug9BY/s740/IMGP9512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4aGRcths2Gs/UUEULktkS1I/AAAAAAAACcw/AZVp1hug9BY/s320/IMGP9512.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ladder to engine room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">From the time we entered, the organizers made sure there was plenty to do, with military officers from the Galactica coming on to our civilian vessel to "help" us (that did not go down well), Cylon attacks, religious fanatics uprising and a corporation seizing control of parts of the ship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While some events were initiated by the organizers, each participant (there there 120 of us aboard) chose what they wanted to do. There were suggestions and some expectations derived from your role on board, but each person created their own story. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03131001483715_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03131001483715_display.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aftermath of the shootout</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And there were LOTS of stories. Rishi got involved in a Holoband session with some cousins he didn't know he had where he found out why his mother left her clan, a rebellion where the engineers took a politician hostage, and later on in the game a bloody shootout associated with a criminal organization that was on the road to becoming a force for good. Those were just the ones I was involved in. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While the broad outlines of the story were defined ahead of time, each character's story arc was completely up to each individual. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There were at least 20 other story lines going at any one time. I didn't hear about most of them until the after-party. There were Cylon interrogations, religious rumblings, a (possibly) fixed election, execution of a Tauron sympathizer, sacrifices and love affairs. I learned about many of them afterwards at the after party or reading the discussion forums for participants. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03150826225717_display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://dropeventphotos.s3.amazonaws.com/7688ef6994d84971993b0e1b1ce32749/03150826225717_display.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Damage control console</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The overall story is too complicated to describe (if you are familiar with BSG, you know that nothing is ever black and white, and it is <i>always</i> complicated), but it was masterfully done by the organizers. It fit perfectly into the BSG world and enough surprises to amaze the participants. Another participant did a great write up on his blog both from the <a href="http://www.thomasbe.com/2013/03/17/the-monitor-celestra-battlestar-galactica-larp-in-character-recap/" target="_blank">character's perspective</a> and from his own as an <a href="http://www.thomasbe.com/2013/03/17/larp-critique-the-monitor-celestra-battlestar-galactica-larp/" target="_blank">experienced larper</a>. I copied that idea to write a <a href="http://tupine.blogspot.fr/2013/03/the-last-days-of-rishi-antall.html" target="_blank">blog entry</a> from Rishi's point of view. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hRVVwh_UlDk/UUX0W8dSd9I/AAAAAAAABqc/9bZRsO2PqlU/s1600/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-22.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hRVVwh_UlDk/UUX0W8dSd9I/AAAAAAAABqc/9bZRsO2PqlU/s320/Photo-13_03_2013-10.53.30-22.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, post-game. The bandages indicate where <br />
I got my ultimately fatal wounds. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The biggest revelation to me was the idea of larping. Everyone was committed to creating a great, believable experience even if it meant something bad for your own character. It felt like an extended theatrical improvisation, except it was aimed at <i>us,</i> not at an audience. I saw and experienced deep and moving emotions as participants discovered things about their characters and themselves. I was able to get totally into a character who is very different from myself, taking actions instinctively that were right for him, but I would never do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some larps are built around a quest (Free the princess, defeat the dragon...) but we were encouraged to "play to lose." If everyone wants to win, the game gets boring. It is far better to make your character lose if it makes for a good scene. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am not sure that I will be pursuing the larper lifestyle after this because I am not sure I would be interested in most of the subjects they explore. It would also be hard to top this experience. But I would highly recommend this particular one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thanks to the photographers I linked to in this. Most of them are mine, but I borrowed some from a communal photo board. I am not sure who took them. </span>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-55451078414076849502009-02-14T22:10:00.001+01:002009-02-14T22:10:06.749+01:00Marvelous Idea from Australia<p>I came across this picture this week from a <a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/SZczInwLOTI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/llxkASnX2ns/rubber%20mat%5B8%5D.jpg"><img style="border-top-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="196" alt="rubber mat" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/SZczJQCVU0I/AAAAAAAAAKU/88meewNjka8/rubber%20mat_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg" width="244" align="right" border="0" /></a> trip I took to Australia about a year ago. I was so struck by what a marvelous idea it was that I had to stop and take a picture. That black rectangle is a rubber mat, like you sometimes see on children's playgrounds. This mat keeps the roots from the trees along the road from buckling the sidewalk. In Amsterdam (where I live),the city solves this problem by cutting down trees that get big enough to push the sidewalk up with their roots. I find this solution far preferable. </p> <p>I took this picture when walking to an ex-colleague's house in St. Kilda near Melbourne to have dinner. I found out later that he and his wife had moved to the country, and lost everything to the recent brush fires while going to the grocery store. The devastation of these fires has been unimaginable, in a magical part of the world. The <a href="http://www.redcross.org.au/vic/services_emergencyservices_victorian-bushfires-appeal-2009.htm" target="_blank">Australian Red Cross</a> is accepting online donations for victims. </p> Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-55837844887327649632009-02-01T18:30:00.001+01:002009-02-01T18:30:43.317+01:00From my Gartner blog<p><a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann/2009/01/12/why-i-tweet/">Why I Tweet</a></p> <p><a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann/2009/01/23/summer-camp-in-january-lotusphere-2009/" target="_blank">Summer Camp in January: Lotusphere 2009</a></p> <p><a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann/2009/01/19/kickoffs-but-not-as-we-know-them/">Kickoffs, but not as we know them</a></p> Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-20190028016040761312008-12-29T18:39:00.001+01:002008-12-29T18:39:43.833+01:00Gaining Time with Blackberry; Not Always a Good Thing<p>A few weeks ago, I <a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann/2008/11/11/a-month-of-blackberry-use-for-a-late-adopter/" target="_blank">blogged</a> about my first month of Blackberry use, and the drawbacks I found. One of the reasons I held off on getting a Blackberry was that I was afraid of the messages I would send while on the move. When I'm in a rush, I don't give good email. Like most people, I've been guilty of pissy, sarcastic communications when there was little or no justification for it. Almost all of these happened when I was in a hurry, leading to groveling and embarrassing apologies. </p> <p>I was afraid that being able to send messages from just about anywhere would make that worse. Recovering snatches of otherwise unproductive time is one of the advantages of having one of these things, even if the snatches are brief. Small amounts of time can lead to boo-boos, however. </p> <p>Today I did it. I was catching up on messages from other analysts while waiting in an airport security line. I had what I thought was a salient comment to add and just saw enough time to squeeze it out before I had to walk through that portal. Fifteen minutes later I was trying to remember what I said, and smacked my forehead. This is what came out: </p> <blockquote> <p>If the vendor sells an unlimited plan, they cannot complain when people use a lot. They can't get the marketing cake of using the term AND the cake of capping or punishing users who take them at their word. </p> </blockquote> <p>There was a real thought buried in there about having your cake and eating it too, but it didn't survive the transition from head to thumbs to message. </p> <p>Maybe Blackberry needs something like <a href="http://gmailblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-in-labs-stop-sending-mail-you-later.html" target="_blank">mail goggles</a>. </p> Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-71187182433002396092008-11-26T14:42:00.001+01:002008-11-26T14:42:48.019+01:00Changing Reactions: Thank You, Mr. Obama<p>Little nice things I notice: Three times in the last week, someone has noticed my appalling accent when speaking bad French and reacted nicely, offering a few English words. One person even said I had a nice accent, but I know she was lying, just to be nice. It has always struck me as grossly unfair that when Americans speak French, we usually sound like rubes killing a beautiful language. When French people speak English, it makes me want to melt. Just listen to this: </p> <div class="wlWriterSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:2e8f4b5e-d06f-44b3-85b0-4ec105867236" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; width: 256px; padding-top: 0px"><div><object width="256" height="211"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iDtINt_rTjc"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iDtINt_rTjc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="256" height="211"></embed></object></div><label style="font-size:.8em;">Melt me, M. Deneuve</label></div> <p>I have been living as an American in Europe for over 20 years (as a dual Dutch-American citizen for the last five years). I have never seen open hostility or anti-Americanism directed at me, perhaps because at least for the last eight years I have been as disillusioned with the US government as pretty much anybody. While I never got hostility, most people let me struggle along. I was in France, so I should be at least trying to speak French. </p> <p>This week though, that changed subtly. When hearing me speak, or talk with my wife, they smiled. I am sure they were thinking of a tall, skinny <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jll5baCAaQU" target="_blank">man</a> speaking from a podium in Chicago to adoring crowds, and the hope he provides. Even the most anti-American Europeans (and several Canadians) I have met make a distinction between the government and the people (for the last 8 years bad and still good, respectively). Those smiles show that hope travels around the world that these two can be reconciled.  </p> <p>For this too, thank you Mr. Obama.</p> Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-83351031350343515052008-11-08T18:11:00.002+01:002008-11-10T11:40:34.000+01:00Thing I Dislike About Cannes<p>A few weeks ago, I <a href="http://tupine.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-i-dislike-about-orlando.html" target="_blank">posted</a> here about why I dislike Orlando, the traditional location of my company's Fall user conference in the <a href="http://www.gartner.com/it/sym/2008/sym18/sym18.jsp" target="_blank">US</a>. I feel obligated to post a similar list about Cannes, the <a href="http://www.gartner.com/it/sym/2008/esc20/esc20.jsp" target="_blank">European venue</a>. </p><p>It will be a much shorter list, as while there is one thing I don't like about the place, I generally find it quite pleasant. The main thing it has going for it is that it is a real <a href="http://www.cannes.com/" target="_blank">city</a>, an actual place. One can wander into town, see people going about their lives with their ridiculously small dogs in tow, and escape the conference <a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann/2008/10/16/double-life-at-symposium/" target="_blank">bubble</a> without too much effort. None of that is possible in Orlando. </p><p>So here it is, the one thing I don't like. </p><ol><li>Cannes is expensive and pretentious.<br />I mean really: €14 for a beer? The polo shirts are nice, but am I really supposed to pay €140 for them because of the logo? </li></ol><p>That's it. Not really too much to get excited about. I can't even get worked up about the famous rudeness. I either seem to not attract it somehow, or it feels right. I expect a brusque reception at a busy brasserie, even if it is not that busy. A stern warning that I shouldn't expect to order a full meal at 4:00 PM makes it feel authentic and familiar, mostly since I only wanted some <a href="http://twitter.com/jeffmann/status/994988240" target="_blank">oysters</a> anyway. </p><p>I really don't think I will be able to continue this thread much longer. The next US location is Las Vegas, and I wouldn't even know how to begin there. The next European location is Barcelona, and I'm not sure I could come up with anything I dislike about that place. </p><p>If you have anything you'd like to add about something to dislike about Cannes or Orlando, please leave a comment. </p><p> </p>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-63981745183174769202008-10-12T17:52:00.006+02:002009-01-26T10:00:22.649+01:00Things I dislike about Orlando<p>Please don't get me wrong. I am <a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann/2008/10/11/an-analyst-in-conference-time/" target="_blank">delighted</a> to be at my employer's <a href="http://www.gartner.com/it/sym/2008/sym18/sym18.jsp" target="_blank">conference</a>, to have the chance to see customers and colleagues. I just wish it didn't have to be in Orlando, one of my least favorite places to travel to. </p><p>Here are the things I don't like about Orlando. What can you add? </p><ol><li>Large furry animals frolicking around at <a href="http://www.swandolphin.com/kids/characterdining.html" target="_blank">breakfast</a>. Scary before coffee. </li><br /><li>"Have a magical day" </li><br /><li>Seeing so many people desperate to have a good time after spending money they don't have, and not enjoying it. </li><br /><li>That sticky feeling you get when walking outside for more than 30 seconds. </li><br /><li>Forgot an important toiletry item (see previous point). No real drug store accessible to get more at reasonable prices. </li><br /><li>The $40 taxi ride to anywhere that does not look like the resort I am in. </li><br /><li>The 90 minute shuttle from the airport because I am too cheap to spend my employer's money on a taxi. </li><br /><li><a href="http://www.swandolphin.com/" target="_blank">Hotel</a> windows that don't open. </li><br /><li>Air conditioning set too high. </li><br /><li>20% service fees added for my "convenience." </li><br /><li>The not quite natural look of the nature. </li><br /><li>I'm sorry. Dolphins do not have scales<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/SPJVhxQcMKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/cO6AbiW8yvQ/s1600-h/silly+dolphin.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256357753741127842" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/SPJVhxQcMKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/cO6AbiW8yvQ/s200/silly+dolphin.png" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></li><li>Food that is good enough to eat too much of, but not good enough to be worth eating a lot of.<br /><br /></li><li>I have to go back in January, June and October.<br /><br /></li><li>Toll booths every 5 miles.<br /></li></ol><p>Notice that I didn't say that I hate Orlando. There are much <a href="http://www.baghdadb2b.com/introduction.php" target="_blank">worse</a> places in the world to visit, so I didn't title this "Things I hate." Hate is a pretty strong emotion I try to stay away from. As much as I dislike it, I don't hate Orlando, I promise. Actually, reading over this again this is mostly about why I dislike Disney World hotels. But they are in Orlando.<br /></p><p><br /></p>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-71440445368027961472008-10-03T13:15:00.002+02:002008-10-03T13:17:08.988+02:00How can I be too busy to go to work?<p>It sounds strange, but I realized this morning that I am actually too busy with my job to go to work. Like many analysts, I work primarily from home. Combined with the time I spend traveling, I rarely get the chance to go into my "official" office. I think that the last time I was in the Amsterdam building was in April. </p><p>This month I don't have too much travel, so I was planning on going in this week to see my colleagues, check my mail box, and use the copier. My best intentions didn't pan out though -- I've been too busy, with too many overdue deliverables to get done. I can't afford the time it takes to get on the tram/metro and make my way out to the office, or even to take the car. I know when I get there, I will have less time available to produce the stuff I have to get done. One of the reasons for going in is to to talk to people, a good thing to do, but it takes time away from other work. </p><p>It seems odd to say that I am too busy to go to the office. Isn't that what offices are for? A place to do work? Not so much anymore, at least in my case. Increasingly I've seen the same thing with the clients I talk with. An office is a place to coordinate, socialize, and make connections. But as we increasingly adopt digital ways of getting things done, I can coordinate, socialize and make connections from anywhere. I can turn off email to get things done, and open up to email, IM, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/jeffmann" target="_blank">Twitter</a> and RSS feeds when I'm looking for external input. </p><p>There still is a place for face to face meetings, but it won't necessarily have to be in the office. I meet colleagues at events, on audio conferences, and at client sites. In fact, I expect that the office will increasingly start to look like <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/" target="_blank">The Office</a>. Depending on face to face, location-based management leads to abuses and inefficiencies. Showing up early and leaving late shouldn't be the key to success as much as actually getting things done. </p>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-85990346245484042672008-09-25T15:02:00.002+02:002008-09-25T15:03:58.777+02:00Going all Official and EverythingGartner has changed its policy on blogging, to encourage analysts to pontificate even more. So I will be slightly more active on the official Garner blog <a href="http://blogs.gartner.com/jeffrey_mann">site</a>. Watch out for my industry musings there. This blog will occasionally spotlight personal and non-IT related ideas.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-60075108526478370922008-07-21T16:20:00.004+02:002008-12-11T20:42:24.262+01:00Things I don't understandI know, there are <span style="font-style: italic;">many </span>things I don't understand. But some things I think I should understand, but don't. Like the people in this picture:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/SIScau-GehI/AAAAAAAAAGE/R1uXHQJFfTo/s1600-h/Image035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/SIScau-GehI/AAAAAAAAAGE/R1uXHQJFfTo/s320/Image035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225473450755652114" border="0" /></a>This was taken this weekend at Lyon airport during a bomb scare. Yes, a bomb. A package that could blow up. Notice how when asked to leave the building because of a suspicious package, most people <span style="font-style: italic;">chose</span> to stay as close as possible to the building, standing in front of a big plate glass window.<br />Yes, several hundred people decided that standing in front of a plate glass window was the best place to be if an explosive device went off. And the police were cool with that. Notice where I am standing: on the other side of the car park.<br />Now, I know that these things have become routine, and it wasn't actually a bomb but somone's shopping that they left behind where they shouldn't have.<br />But still...Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-59210681414353999922008-01-28T21:37:00.000+01:002008-12-11T20:42:24.772+01:00Jeff goes dogsledding<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/R6ByxGAH0OI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ZCVp13_DuK0/s1600-h/Dogsled+Jan08+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/R6ByxGAH0OI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ZCVp13_DuK0/s320/Dogsled+Jan08+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161251360716869858" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/R54-sWAH0MI/AAAAAAAAAFs/B7YTVv8yO_I/s1600-h/Dogsled+Jan08+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/R54-sWAH0MI/AAAAAAAAAFs/B7YTVv8yO_I/s400/Dogsled+Jan08+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160631154554425538" border="0" /></a>This weekend, some old colleagues from the Uniface time came to visit for the annual Banaan (Bananna) skiing weekend. Banaan in Dutch is the slang word for the stretcher they use to carry broken bodies off of the ski slopes. About 10 of us from UNIFACE have been going off on a ski weekend for about 18 years. This year, it was just three of us (me, Roel Aldenkamp and Albert Beijlevelt) plus two honorary Banaan-ers: my wife Hennie and Edith Douqué.<br /><br />To make things a little different, we decided to go dogsledding this year instead of just skiing. I organized it with our friend Juraj, the <a href="http://www.esprit-du-nord.com/">musher</a> who set us up with dogs, sleds and guidance. Juraj is great with the dogs, and with us as well. The dogs absolutely LOVE being out there and pulling through the snow.<br /><br />Our dog Betty (a semi-retired sled dog) was at the head of my sled team. I loved seeing her doing what she loves to do. She would literally jump up in the air (see the picture above) with excitement at the prospect of pulling the sled.<br /><br />A great experience, even if I did<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/R54_MmAH0NI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qf0wGo3-7Bo/s1600-h/Dogsled+Jan08+009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/R54_MmAH0NI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qf0wGo3-7Bo/s320/Dogsled+Jan08+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160631708605206738" border="0" /></a><br />fall at the end of the day and bruise<br /><br /> my chest slightly. It only hurts when I breathe.<br /><br />Here is a video of what it's like behind the sled.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzFavyktJ0NFT8VerYH2gBMUKe1j2yCYEp2VaGmfKkrgAbpqi59qZVEsNYmdlLInBsUcHcpE8HMtAJkBpcmYQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />Here is a video with the sound of the dogs before we set off again after lunch. Usually Juraj's dogs were silent and calm, but once we started packing up and getting ready to go, they couldn't hold back.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyYRN8HgBmxvUQTsb5_EgsqTCvzzJ9XnLGqUylb-GIXFe2a9jKCw1YzUR16WDx7wIYkGV46MlmC7jIdNcMI2w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-90022052525342920582007-04-11T12:58:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:25.145+01:00Buenos Aires<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPh6KvltYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/crh-YZ1ra_Y/s1600-h/IMGP2232.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPh6KvltYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/crh-YZ1ra_Y/s320/IMGP2232.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054131596272448898" /></a><br /><br />We`re back in Europe now, in the Air France lounge waiting for the connecting flight to Amsterdam (excuse the a<>q qnd other mixups; French keyboqrds!<br />Bueos Aires was a great alternative to Patagonia: dirty, busy, and exciting. We got there on Good Friday, qnd would have gotten the wrong impression if we hadn`t stqyed until Tuesday. All weekend, we couldn`t get over how quiet qnd relaxed everything was. We wqndered into great museums, strolled through markets with greqt stuff (buying some of it too), We had heqrd horror stories of how stressful, smelly and dqngerous BA was, but we found it delightful. We wandered thgough La Boca, saw some great museums, and thoroughly enjoyed the weekend<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPic6vltZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/WG0vZK_8yoE/s1600-h/IMGP2242.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPic6vltZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/WG0vZK_8yoE/s320/IMGP2242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054132193272903058" /></a><br /><br />And then it was Monday, a normal working day after the Holy Week holidays around Easter when everyone leaves the city. The buses zere belching smoke, the taxis couldn`t move through traffic, qnd everyone seemed to be in a hurry. Not much time for tourists now. Two tours we tried to take (of the Congressos parliqment building qnd the Recolletto cemetery) didn`t materialize for unexplained reasons. We mqde one last visit to a parilla criolla restaurant for massive haunches of meat, which kept us up at night trying to digest it. <br />It was clearly time to go home. So we did.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-17152395853003020122007-04-05T22:07:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:25.640+01:00Day 9: End of the World<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPjOKvltaI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5NZ2eTqHPNU/s1600-h/IMGP2162.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPjOKvltaI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5NZ2eTqHPNU/s320/IMGP2162.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054133039381460386" /></a><br />Jeff and the others are attempting to climb up to a glacier today, but I`m taking it easy and getting ready for our departure tomorrow for Buenos Aires. I also need to find a nice (fun) restaurant for tonight, our last night all together.<br /><br />That end of the world thing (fin del mundo) is getting kind of grating. I have seen the gallery at the end of the world, the bar at the end of the world, restaurant at the end of the world, the end of the world museum, beer brewery at the end of the world (EXCELLENT beer! Try Beagle beer if you get a chance). <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPljqvlteI/AAAAAAAAAA8/jO1xePP43N0/s1600-h/IMGP2214.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPljqvlteI/AAAAAAAAAA8/jO1xePP43N0/s320/IMGP2214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054135607771903458" /></a>The glacier walk was a great morning trip. We drove up to a small ski area (one lift, one slope). No snow now, but we took it up to save some walking then. We continued up to just below the glaciar. A bit of a huffy-puffy climb, but worth it. The last bit required real climbing, which we didn`t really want to do, but we reached the snow (pictures to prove it, promise!). The rest of the day was lazily seeing Ushuaia. You don´t come down here for the city, however. It`s the scenery all around that makes it worthwhile.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPnpKvltiI/AAAAAAAAABc/lyjp_zoXafE/s1600-h/IMGP2165.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPnpKvltiI/AAAAAAAAABc/lyjp_zoXafE/s320/IMGP2165.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054137901284439586" /></a>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-16084095787010136712007-04-05T22:02:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:26.589+01:00Day 8: to Ushuaia<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPkoKvltdI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WwMO2HnXHuQ/s1600-h/IMGP2151.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPkoKvltdI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WwMO2HnXHuQ/s320/IMGP2151.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054134585569686994" /></a><br />The next day we had breakfast in their lovely kitchen and went for a walk to see the beavers.<br /><br />Get this: some goof in some Argentine government thought it would be a good idea to import them and start a fur industry. They abandoned the scheme, but not before the beavers were firmly installed in the country. These people we stayed with can´t keep up with their construction/destruction. We saw dam after dam. They destroy trees, cover up good pasture land with water and generally are a pest.<br /><br />Back in the van, we headed for Ushuaia. Every day, since we left, the landscape has been different. Steppes, mountains, lakes, water everywhere or land everywhere. Amazing. We rolled into Ushuaia around one and found it another goldrush dump. The place has grown from 10,000 thirty years ago to more than 60,000 today. Building is done in any style in any way, and not always finished. What the people have made is generally as ugly as the scenery around them is beautiful.<br /><br />When Annie and I decided on this <a href="http://www.lennoxhotel.com.ar">hotel </a>way before Christmas, it had a beautiful Internet sight with soothing quiet music, advertised its restful harmony, etc. Amazing photography. The place is at the heart of the strip, and yet again we slept with ear plugs and a closed door. It`s so noisy at the end of the world!<br /><br />We took a boat into the Beagle channel and saw sea lions and a colony of cormorants. Penguins continue to elude us. Sometimes we see them bopping up and down in the water, but they´re hard to fix.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPjkKvltbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/woM2DGP4jj0/s1600-h/IMGP2177.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPjkKvltbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/woM2DGP4jj0/s320/IMGP2177.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054133417338582450" /></a><br /><br />For dinner we headed off to a Parilla - one of those restaurants where you have a couple of lamb carcasses roasting in the window. We ate like horses and had a great time. It was so noisy, but in a nice family kind of way. There appear to be tons of Argentine tourists here for the Easter holidays.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPkOavltcI/AAAAAAAAAAs/rvKicOzuYsA/s1600-h/IMGP2203.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPkOavltcI/AAAAAAAAAAs/rvKicOzuYsA/s320/IMGP2203.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054134143188055490" /></a><br /><br />--> Now about the dogs. They`re everywhere. They belong to no one and everyone. They at first seemed sad, but when you get used to it, it appears sort of fun. They sometimes hang out in little groups - I saw one with a lab, a furry little thing and a Jack Russel type hanging out together, and this morning, when I went to give a little white dog some leftovers from our BBQ last night, he only half ate it - he was distracted by a buddy across the street. If you can get over the nasty back story (in Puerto Natales, the mayor has put poisoned food out for dogs, who then die in agony - along with any child who also happens to fancy what s/he finds) they`re adorable and demonstrate pure dogness. You can pet them, they`re not scary, and at their best, they have a certain joi de vivre about them. They always seem to sleep where there are people - like bus stops, in doorways. And they`re not as skinny as the working dogs we saw at the estancia.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-17935444582408218232007-04-05T21:57:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:27.149+01:00Day 8: To Tierra del Fuego<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPmcKvltfI/AAAAAAAAABE/KWBS1oMY1J8/s1600-h/IMGP2157.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPmcKvltfI/AAAAAAAAABE/KWBS1oMY1J8/s320/IMGP2157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054136578434512370" /></a><br />We got up at 6 to leave early for the estancia (ranch), but Jeff couldn't find his passport. We were all set for plan B - separating and spending the rest of the day in the police station, when we saw Guy coming down the stairs with his backpack. We both jumped up at the same time and almost ran him down: Jeff and Guy have the same backpack (I got two almost identical ones at two different IBM conferences), and it occurred to us together that Jeff had put it in Guy`s backpack instead of his own. Yup, that`s what happened! All`s well that ends well.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPnO6vlthI/AAAAAAAAABU/1CNyz1zwkL8/s1600-h/IMGP2142.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPnO6vlthI/AAAAAAAAABU/1CNyz1zwkL8/s320/IMGP2142.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054137450312873490" /></a>We then had a had a long ride across the Patagonian Steppe. Hard to imagine a place with that much nothing, but so beautiful. We stopped at the Straits of Magellan for a ferry. A place that for so long had been a geography class test question now was in front of us: a real river-looking thing. <br /><br />We crossed the border into Argentina, and had paved roads again (Aaaahhh!). In Rio Grande it was almost impossible to find the right road (hard to believe, since there is basically one road in from the North and one road out to the South, but no signs). Finally some man whom we had asked before and bumped into again - going the wrong way - showed us the way out of town and pointed us in the right direction. Rio Grande is notable for it`s big trout sculpture, and a large memorial to the Heroes of the Malvinas (Falklands) War.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPmuavltgI/AAAAAAAAABM/AdRBG17FZEg/s1600-h/IMGP2144.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPmuavltgI/AAAAAAAAABM/AdRBG17FZEg/s320/IMGP2144.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054136891967124994" /></a>We finally arrived at our estancia in the middle of nowhere a round 6 p.m. We were greeted in French by a very chic woman and served a cup of tea in a lovely pot with china cups. I could have hugged her. Tea until then had been a bag tossed in lukewarm cup of water, almost as an afterthought. The whole thing felt like we were in a Martha Stewart spread. Lovely furniture, gracious hosts, table beautfiully laid. We ate with the owner and her son and daughter who help her run the place. Slept like a log with the window open, no noise, and sheepskins on our feet for warmth.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-18692910802179708162007-04-05T21:52:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:27.460+01:00Day 7: To Punta Arenas<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPogqvltkI/AAAAAAAAABs/DhHR9SkgDfA/s1600-h/IMGP2122.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPogqvltkI/AAAAAAAAABs/DhHR9SkgDfA/s320/IMGP2122.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054138854767179330" /></a>In the morning, we picked we picked up a duffel bag full of now-clean laundry and headed out to Punta Arenas. We <em>finally </em>arrived, after another bumpy trip and gorgeous scenery, in a town that again had a goldrush feel, but more of a real city than Puerto Natales. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPoFavltjI/AAAAAAAAABk/FGCpsA4nfTs/s1600-h/IMGP2126.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPoFavltjI/AAAAAAAAABk/FGCpsA4nfTs/s320/IMGP2126.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054138386615744050" /></a>We split up and we went to a museum that could have been in any big European city. There was an exhibition of winning entries from a competition for young talent, and it was great to see local approaches to art. Plus the rooms where beautifully decorated in a Victorian/Colonial style. Super opulent and very glitzy. It was built by English ranch owners when this was a big cattle-producing area for Europe. That all ended when the Panama Canal ended.<br /><br />We each bought an alpaca sweater for ten bucks each, and those goofy hats with the ear flaps - they`re a real lifesaver when the wind howls, and you don`t really care how you look! Our hotel in Punta Arenas was a nice example of a sort of twenties architecture that you see a lot here - left over from the glory days before the Panama Canal ruined everything for them. However inside it was a riot of colour and decorated to within an inch of it`s gaudy life. Again, noisy, but we slept, though not for long.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-58061257058435515142007-04-05T21:46:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:28.292+01:00Day 6: More Torres del Paine, and back to Puerto Natales<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPz8avlt8I/AAAAAAAAAEs/o-yCtVMm-0A/s1600-h/IMGP2085.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPz8avlt8I/AAAAAAAAAEs/o-yCtVMm-0A/s400/IMGP2085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054151426136455106" /></a> <br />Next morning we did some more touring in the park. We saw tons of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guanaco">guanacos</a>, a sort of llama - beautifully gentle looking creatures that are curious and not too skittish. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiP0dqvlt-I/AAAAAAAAAE8/S94XFzb6l5g/s1600-h/IMGP2096.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiP0dqvlt-I/AAAAAAAAAE8/S94XFzb6l5g/s200/IMGP2096.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054151997367105506" /></a>Beautiful big eyelashes. We stopped to look at a lake, and two semi-tame foxes emerged from the bushes to beg for scraps. Kind of sad, that even in a place this remote the wildlife learns to beg from the visitors, but also kind of cool to see foxes this close up.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiP0NKvlt9I/AAAAAAAAAE0/tVEpD3j1hSw/s1600-h/IMGP2116.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiP0NKvlt9I/AAAAAAAAAE0/tVEpD3j1hSw/s320/IMGP2116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054151713899263954" /></a><br /><br />We drove back to Puerto Natales over more bumpy, bouncy roads.<br /><br />Annie and I finished with a massage in this cute hippy kind of place, owned by one of Lucie`s friends, back in Puerto Natales, while Jeff worked on this blog, then lost what he did because the timer ran out at exactly 30 minutes and I wasn`t paying attention. Oh well. Then another big meal of king crab and scallops at Darrio and Lucie`s, thanks to Darriò´s mother. These are the local specialties, so cheap and delicious. The hotel we stayed in that night had no windows, but was still noisy.<br /><br />We have this theory that because populations are so sparse and spread out here, everyone makes as much noise as possible to compensate. Also, working hours appear very fluid, so there`s always someone working (Darrio worked till 1 am cleaning hottubs before we left - one of his jobs).<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiP0zKvlt_I/AAAAAAAAAFE/r_WQK0lbBec/s1600-h/IMGP2101.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiP0zKvlt_I/AAAAAAAAAFE/r_WQK0lbBec/s400/IMGP2101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054152366734292978" /></a>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-5393066733109741952007-04-05T21:21:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:29.759+01:00Day 5: Parque Torres del Paine<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPw1avlt0I/AAAAAAAAADs/_1drTUTuk_0/s1600-h/IMGP2049.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPw1avlt0I/AAAAAAAAADs/_1drTUTuk_0/s320/IMGP2049.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054148007342487362" /></a><br />The morning started slowly (we had to wake up the hotel guy to make our breakfast), but quickly picked up. The Park is magnificent, and we saw a glacier and what they called an iceberg graveyard. Large chunks of ice from the glacier at the far end of Lake Grey float down to the other end of the lake near a sort of pebble beach. I found a set of guanaco teeth in the <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPxCqvlt1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/CnQQ-XVPoHY/s1600-h/IMGP2059.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPxCqvlt1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/CnQQ-XVPoHY/s320/IMGP2059.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054148234975754066" /></a>sand. It started pouring rain, so we squelched back to the van and headed for a waterfall. We picnicked in the van overlooking a lovely lake. The wind was too strong to stay outside the van for long. The sandwiches would have been ripped from our fingers.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPxWavlt2I/AAAAAAAAAD8/CjFe8iVUoOc/s1600-h/IMGP2060.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPxWavlt2I/AAAAAAAAAD8/CjFe8iVUoOc/s200/IMGP2060.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054148574278170466" /></a>--> A quick aside on the weather. We have been pretty lucky. They don`t talk about the weather here so much. Forecasts are laughed at, since it changes so quickly. We`ve had wind, rain, sun, cold and heat, sometimes in the same hour it seems. Aside from the morning walking to the glaciar cemetery and one bit in Puerto Montt, we haven´t had all that much heavy rain. Every day a little, but no big deal. In fact, we have had more magnificent, sunny days than bad ones. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPxtqvlt3I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Ss4FEAhgies/s1600-h/IMGP2070.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPxtqvlt3I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Ss4FEAhgies/s200/IMGP2070.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054148973710129010" /></a>We count ourselves very lucky. Temperatures are generally around F 50 / C 10.<br /><br />The wind is an amazing thing. It blows a lot, and hard. When you buy an outdoor jacket, you sometimes ask what all those zippers, clips, velcro patches, buttons and string pulls are for (at least I do). When you come to Patagonia, you discover them all very quickly. We were constantly tugging, pulling, snapping, adjusting, etc. to keep rain out, heat in, then heat out, etc.>--<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPyQqvlt4I/AAAAAAAAAEM/CmVRzYyyOjw/s1600-h/IMGP2072.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPyQqvlt4I/AAAAAAAAAEM/CmVRzYyyOjw/s320/IMGP2072.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054149575005550466" /></a>Walking to the waterfall, the wind was so strong, we had to hold onto each other. Seriously. I have never seen wind like that, on the North Sea, English Channel, or any mountain I`ve been on. Apparently it is always like that there. The sun came out and we managed to walk about 4 km to a view of the <a href="http://www1.flickr.com/photos/dcml/195097243/in/set-72157594202045539/">Quernos</a> (horns). The path <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPy0avlt5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/6fPQCpEinKM/s1600-h/IMGP2073.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPy0avlt5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/6fPQCpEinKM/s320/IMGP2073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054150189185873810" /></a>was brilliant and easy, the distance nothing when you are constantly being treated to a new and amazing view. We got almost underneath the biggest mountains and goggled at the glaciers.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPzQavlt6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xaEOaYlCuTQ/s1600-h/IMGP2106.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPzQavlt6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xaEOaYlCuTQ/s200/IMGP2106.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054150670222210978" /></a>The path is lined with bushes that look lush from a distance, but actually are covered with 1.5 cm long thorns. When you brush against them, you feel nothing. They only sting if you try to reach inside the bush (not recommended).<br /><br />That night we had a rousing dinner, with lots of laughs, and trying to dim the sound of the giant Coke machine in the dining room with us (we were the only guests). Guy and Annie are great fun, and we laugh all day long. It is great to go through the country with Lucie and Darrio. They`re easy company on a trip and we never have to wait for them, or constantly look out for washrooms or anything horrid like that.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPzlqvlt7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/P4XKLuX8ers/s1600-h/IMGP2087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPzlqvlt7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/P4XKLuX8ers/s400/IMGP2087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054151035294431154" /></a>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-6558363285269893412007-04-05T21:14:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:30.391+01:00Day 4: Approaching Puerto Montt<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPvyqvltyI/AAAAAAAAADc/1pE6RjHznoI/s1600-h/IMGP2038.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPvyqvltyI/AAAAAAAAADc/1pE6RjHznoI/s320/IMGP2038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054146860586219298" /></a><br />Sunday at 6 a.m. we got a wakeup announcement saying we were about to pass through the White Narrows (Angostura White) - 80 metres wide at its narrowest (we figured the boat had to be around 30 metres wide . . .). We slipped quickly into our clothes and out of our bunks and headed towards the bridge. Absolutely speechless from the beauty of it all. The captain and his second guided us through what looked like it was certain to have a Titanic ending without looking away from the water, just calling out headings to his assistant. We were meant to dock at around 9 am. But . . . after approaching the dock, there was too much wind. So we circled the harbour till about one o`clock. Trips to the bridge were cancelled, and the captain guided us towards a dock. With great pulling and shoving from tug boats, they got the ship tied up to the dock. Quite exciting, and apparently quite common. They were obviously late back to Puerto Montt for the next trip, and the next two sailings after that were cancelled. The main ship is being repaired, and they need this replacement for the "normal" run.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPwZKvltzI/AAAAAAAAADk/-7O7cMIGZsY/s1600-h/IMGP2040.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPwZKvltzI/AAAAAAAAADk/-7O7cMIGZsY/s320/IMGP2040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054147522011182898" /></a>When we got to Lucie and Darrio`s house finally - much kissing by all and sundry at the arrivals terminal - Darios mum had prepared a meal for us: filled avocados and a cornmush cooked in corn husks. Delicious, but heavy - especially since we`d already eaten on the boat! (This is fun: the Chileans call meatloaf a German BBQ - that`s what we ate) The whole experience was like being in a film or TV show: Northern Exposure, eg, or something else that plays in Alaska, or in a goldrush place or something unreal. Tons of colours everywhere, a stove that has seen at least 100 years! and everywhere the sea and a howling wind. (It was so windy and the places are so makeshift, that Guy woke up one morning to a howling gale and saw the tin roof lift off over his head.)<br /><br />After a stout lunch and a couple <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pisco_sour">Pisco Sours</a>, we took off that very afternoon (or rather evening - we were on Chilean time) for the park Torres del Paine (pie-nay), a distance of about 160 km. The road was there, but just. We forget what it is like to ride on unpaved roads, spoiled as we are in Europe and North America. There are MANY unpaved roads down here. We bumped along from one pothole to another, and finally, in the pitch dark, ended up in a hotel from some Klondike time warp. Very cabin-y, feeble windows you couldn't´t open because of the howling wind. Toilets that would flush, but not paper (if you see what I mean), all very casual and thrown together. But we slept, and woke to a great day.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-72727498304276879542007-04-02T01:10:00.000+02:002008-12-11T20:42:32.231+01:00Day 2-3: The Boat<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPqWqvltpI/AAAAAAAAACU/GJPymwcyGRg/s1600-h/IMGP1917.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPqWqvltpI/AAAAAAAAACU/GJPymwcyGRg/s400/IMGP1917.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054140881991743122" /></a><br />The people have been so nice and friendly - almost as though they´re so glad anyone has come to see them so far away!<br />On Sunday, we flew to Puerto Montt to join Guy and Annie and the boat. We hooked up with them at the airport just as we had planned. We stayed at a lovely hotel - though the city was a dump. On Sunday we walked to a great fish restaurant right on - over - the water.<br />We dutifully went to the boat on Monday morning, only to hear that it would be delayed till 11 that night (it was supposed to leave at 4 p.m.). So instead of hanging around horrible Puerto Montt, we rented a car and went to see the Orsono volcano - the weather was incredible, and instead of the usual rain and strong winds, we had lovely sunshine. Jeff and I took a "collectivo" to the Budget office - great fun - it´s a small bus and slows down to about 30 KM for you to jump out at your <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPtPavltvI/AAAAAAAAADE/xEfmALRRDjw/s1600-h/IMGP1900.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPtPavltvI/AAAAAAAAADE/xEfmALRRDjw/s320/IMGP1900.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054144055972574962" /></a>stop - wherever that is! We drove up to Puerto Varas, which is 100 times prettier than Montt. It was founded by Germans, and many buildings look straight out of Bavaria. The volcano was spectacular, and the trip around the lake amazing. We started driving up the volcano towards what was promised to be a ski area. But the road was not finished, and the ski area not started. Still, we got a lot closer to the top.<br />We made it back for the boat, only to hear that once we were on board, we wouldn´t be leaving till 8 a.m the following day. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPq7avltqI/AAAAAAAAACc/sYbJSy15MBE/s1600-h/IMGP1924.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPq7avltqI/AAAAAAAAACc/sYbJSy15MBE/s200/IMGP1924.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054141513351935650" /></a>There were loads of horses being loaded on (sad to see, since they woulddn´t be leaving the truck where they were packed in for 4 days) and the most amazing heavy equipment. The boat (called Puerto Eden) is fine. Not like a cruise ship, but an adequately equipped ferry. We have our own cabin, with Guy and Annie next door.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPtn6vltwI/AAAAAAAAADM/vfBiOZPydd0/s1600-h/IMGP1930.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPtn6vltwI/AAAAAAAAADM/vfBiOZPydd0/s320/IMGP1930.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054144476879369986" /></a>Three times a day we shuffle along in the galley area for OK to good meals, and pretty good wine. They organize films and talks on the area to pass the time. We usually don´t opt for those, but hang out on deck (well-padded against the wind, rain and cold). We watch out for whales, seals and penguins. We saw them all, but the sightings were few and far between. Still, the last time I saw a Blue Whale it was hanging in the Smithsonian Institution.<br /><br />Jeff did see two films, because they were Chilean and probably the last chance to see them. One (Mi Mejor Enemigo - My Best Enemy) was about the almost war in Patagonia in 1973 (who knew?) and the other (Machuka) was about upper-lower class struggles in Pinochet`s Santiago. Both worth seeing.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPrfqvltrI/AAAAAAAAACk/8LPPj0z1TC4/s1600-h/IMGP2024.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPrfqvltrI/AAAAAAAAACk/8LPPj0z1TC4/s320/IMGP2024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054142136122193586" /></a>They let passengers on the bridge except during docking and at night, which is pretty cool. We can see where we are, follow progress on the maps, check out the sonar and radar, etc. It´s also drier and warmer than outside.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPt6avltxI/AAAAAAAAADU/J4XPmTEVb1w/s1600-h/IMGP2032.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPt6avltxI/AAAAAAAAADU/J4XPmTEVb1w/s200/IMGP2032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054144794706949906" /></a>Early the next morning we enter the open ocean part of the trip. We were warned, so we dutifully get up to take our seasick pills at 4 am. We don´t have much trouble, but many people do. The dining room is pretty empty, and we don't see Guy and Annie all day. They spent 20 hours in bed! That evening we entered the fjords again. The captain slowed down to a crawl so that we would reach the Angostura Inglesa (English Narrow) at daylight. It can't be traversed in the dark.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPsm6vltuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/iExYVML_FJo/s1600-h/IMGP1949.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPsm6vltuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/iExYVML_FJo/s320/IMGP1949.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054143360187872994" /></a>This was the day to visit Puerto Eden, a very remote village with the last pureblood Karawasek indians. There are 10-15 of them left, depending on which pamphlet you believe. One of them joined us there to travel to Santiago to work on a dictionary. He was one of 4 people who still speak the language fluently. It's hard to think of how they live out here, with one boat coming by every week, but no other contact (except for telephone, radio and Internet).<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPsTKvlttI/AAAAAAAAAC0/AdXfJMvlaI0/s1600-h/IMGP1957.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPsTKvlttI/AAAAAAAAAC0/AdXfJMvlaI0/s200/IMGP1957.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054143020885456594" /></a><br /><br />After Puerto Eden, we made a small detour to see the glaciar Pio XI. Magnificent! A blue wall spilling off the coast into the water. This is one of the few glaciars anywhere which is actually growing instead of receding. That makes it interesting as well as stirringly beautiful.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPr8qvltsI/AAAAAAAAACs/IXsi68aYAm0/s1600-h/IMGP2015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPr8qvltsI/AAAAAAAAACs/IXsi68aYAm0/s400/IMGP2015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054142634338399938" /></a>Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2846989194386042303.post-60176951066691103562007-03-25T01:22:00.000+01:002008-12-11T20:42:32.595+01:00Day 1: Santiago de Chile<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPpH6vltlI/AAAAAAAAAB0/M2x5JnC-PWk/s1600-h/IMGP1888.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPpH6vltlI/AAAAAAAAAB0/M2x5JnC-PWk/s200/IMGP1888.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054139529077044818" /></a><br />Our big trip has started! Thanks to a glut of points, we enjoyed a luxurious trip on Air France via Paris to Santiago (fois gras with dinner AND breakfast!), but it was still 14 hours. We slept most of the way, but still felt exhausted.<br />Unforunately, we couldn get into the hotel we thought we would have (Villafranca). A problem with the room, and voluminous apologies. The owner put us in another hotel just around the corner. It was ok, but that's about all we can say. The neighbourhood is nice, with pretty tree-lined streets, although pretty noisy up to now. (lots of lovely gum and plane trees).<br />We spent the day wandering the streets, seeing the government area (mucho policia) and several churches, one with a hunk of St. Theresa. We saw a tour of other hunks of her in Ireland a couple years ago. Small world!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPpWKvltmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/UE2yFy8yhM0/s1600-h/IMGP1891.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UHpIG8Lkdqk/RiPpWKvltmI/AAAAAAAAAB8/UE2yFy8yhM0/s320/IMGP1891.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054139773890180706" /></a>The high point (at least for me) was the mercado central. It reminded me of the food courts in Singapore, but latin. Several restaurants among the fish stalls. We had beer and almejas (clams) with cilantro. Amazing fish stalls with just about everything that could come out of the sea.<br />Tomorrow we fly to Puerto Montt to meet Guy and Annie. We spend one night there (Sunday), then join the boat to Puerto Natales.Jeff Mannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05189440337410384145noreply@blogger.com0