Gregory Mulholland

At long last, here is the post about the weekend (+1 day) trip to Seville and Granada.

From London to Seville
On Thursday, we were to fly out of Stansted, an airport about 45 mins from Cambridge by bus, at about 6:00 on RyanAir. Thus, at about 3:00, we boarded the bus at Cambridge City Center with our bags and began our journey. We both felt silly because we both took our bags to work with us, rolling them from the Wychfield site all the way to the Materials Department. This is not a short walk and it seems even longer with the never ending clack-clack of a rolling suitcase behind you. Nevertheless, we made it, and by 3:00, we were off.

We arrived at Stansted. It exists solely for use by RyanAir and EasyJet, the two major low-cost British airlines. We were flying RyanAir. Luckily, when we arrived to check in, the line for our flight wasn’t long. We queued up and checked in. There, we were told that our hand baggage limit was 1 10kg bag per person, and one of ours weighed 12.5kg. Thus, the RyainAir fiasco began. We had to check one of our bags for 10 quid. That quickly explained how RyanAir makes its money. After waiting in a different line, paying that fee, and finally getting checked in, we dashed through security, grabbed some cold sandwiches from a pharmacy, and got in line to board our flight.

RyanAir is a free-for-all boarding system. They let the priority queue on first (people who checked in online, which we can’t do because we are foreign, or paid an extra three pounds). Then they let on the regular people. Then, it is get a seat as quick as you can. The jets they fly are regular Boeing 737s. I think I have seen prison planes more adequately spaced (on movies of course). I could not slouch at all because my knees wouldn’t fit between the seats. It was a tight fit. I think we are going to try EasyJet next time; I hear they are slightly more comfortable.

Sevilla
Our arrival in Sevilla was nothing short of shocking. We disembarked the plane onto the tarmac and it was at least 65 degrees (F) out. After the cold British winter, it was such a nice surprise. We then realized that everyone spoke Spanish. This might sound silly, but there is a big difference between knowing that they speak Spanish and actually hearing it. We made our way through immigration and customs. Since everything seemed to be closed at the airport (bus companies, tourist info, EVERYTHING), we grabbed a taxi to the hotel. Luckily, the driver knew where we were going, so no trouble. At check-in, Kelly and I muddled through with some broken, mumbled Spanish and got in okay. That night, exhausted, we ate at the hotel and crashed early.

The next day was Seville exploration time. We got up early, ate an amazing breakfast at the hotel, and found the bus to the city center. This last part took a little work. The lady at the desk didn’t speak any real English, so we had to ave a conversation about the bus in Spanish. This was getting to be less and less of a challenge. Then, we found the stop, but there were two stops across from one another. We initially went to the right one, thought we were wrong, went to the wrong one, talked to the driver (in Spanish), then went back to the right one. Finally we were on our way to the real Seville.

On the bus, we noticed a few things. First, Spaniards are exceedingly polite. There is never an old lady without a seat on the bus, and people generally try to look our for each other. On more than one occasion, Kelly and I were asked where we were going by a random person, then told that our stop was coming up. We must have looked really lost, but it was still nice of them.

Finally, off the bus, we began our trek around Seville. It was sunny and warm, so we were in no hurry, so we decided to explore our way to the tourist area. This proved a little more difficult then planned. Old Spanish cities have no semblance of grid layout. Streets run in all directions, end in random plazas, and change names at random times. It was a blast. After lots of little city streets, we emerged into a plaza. Attached to it was this church:

It was brightly colored and cool looking. Then we moved on to an even larger plaza. This is a photo of one of the Spanish municipal buildings on the plaza:



Finally, after more walking, we made it down to the to the Guadalquivir river:



We walked along the river for a bit and picked up a Seville tour book at a store called Typical Spanish. We felt dirty even reading the sign — it was too touristy. It did have tour books, so we had success. We also go tickets for the tour bus of the town, which was a really convenient was to travel. In hindsight, maybe not worth it, but it was good to have. As we moved down the river, we saw El Torre de Oro:



It was the gate to Seville when the city was the center of trading to the West Indies and the Regular Indies (East Indies? Indies?). Inside was a museum, which had some interesting things in it, including models of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria. From the top of the tower, we could see much of the city, including the Cathedral in the distance:



After walking around the tower, we hopped on the tour bus, which took us to the Plaza de Espana. It was built in 1929 for the Spanish-American Exhibition and is really amazing to see:



Or if you prefer HDR:



There are more photos. If you click on any of my pictures here, they will take you to one of the 4 galleries about the trip.

After the Plaza de Espana, we rode the tour bus around the city, listening to the recorded tour on headphones. We got off again near the Torre de Oro since we knew we could find food there. We went to a place called Minotauro, where we ordered tapas (in this case pork and peppers):

and sangria:



From there, we walked to the cathedral and alcazar (palace), but they were closed for the day. We got some ice cream and walked back toward the bus stop. Along the way, the streets were getting really busy with shoppers. Apparently, everyone goes shopping at 8:00pm. Since we had to go through the shopping district, we joined in. Kelly stopped at like 97 different shoe stores:



Since we had a late lunch, we decided to have a dinner at Telepizza. It is a Domino’s-like pizza place that I learned to love when I was in Spain the first time. This time it wasn’t quite as good because we went with all cheese and I think their toppings make the pizza. Even so, it was a delicious, low-pressure, and cheap way to end a tiring day.

Seville — Day 2
On our second, and last day in Seville, we had a few things left to do. First, we went to breakfast at a small cafe in town. We then walked to the bus station to drop our bags off (we would head to Granada in the afternoon). Finally, we headed to the cathedral and alcazar to see the insides of them before we left.

First, we went to the alcazar. It is the old palace of the city. Not unlike the Alhambra in artistry and style if not in size and grandeur, the alcazar was built and expanded over a few hundred years and was quite a sight to see. The courtyards were ornately decorated:

Inside each of the rooms, the walls were finely carved as well. You could tell that at one time these carvings had been painted vividly:



The palace also had extensive gardens:



And even a really cool crypt:



After the alcazar, we moved across the street to the cathedral. It is one of the largest in the world, and even bigger in the scale of purely gothic cathedrals. From the outside, it is certainly an impressive structure:



From the inside, it is like a bigger version of most other gothic cathedrals. It has many side chapels, altars, and, in the center, an enormous organ. I have heard classical pipe organs before, but never one of this size. While we were there though there was some sort of demonstration of the organ going on. We were really lucky to hear it played in all of its glory. Here is a picture of a small number of its pipes:





The ceiling of the cathedral was amazing as well:



Finally, one of the side altars (the one that looked like it was actually used for some regular Masses and Benedictions) was pretty amazing as well:



After walking around inside for a while, we were able to go into the cathedral tower, the Giralda. It was a part of the mosque that once stood where the cathedral now does. It is the cathedral’s belltower. It offered an amazing view of parts of the city, including the bullfighting ring:



It also had a best views of the top of the cathedral:



After the Giralda, we headed back to the bus station to catch our bus to Granada. I guess Spanish bus companies don’t put your platform number on the ticket, because we had to ask 2 people, in Spanish, which platform was for our bus. Even then, we didn’t believe it until — sure enough — the correct bus pulled up at about the right time. Soon, we were loaded onto it and on our way to Granada.

Granada
When we arrived in Granada, we had little idea where we were or where we were going. Fortunately, I had printed the reservation for our hotel, so all we had to do was find a map. We picked up a map in a convenience store in the bus station, and hopped on a city bus toward the center of town. The first thing we noticed upon leaving the bus station is that Granada is much cooler than Seville. It is at a higher altitude and is actually a ski town during the winter. At the hotel, there were some traveling students and a bunch of skiers. You can see from this:

that the hotel was not too far from the mountains at all. Our trek to the hotel was a long one. We rode the correct bus until a Spaniard told us that we probably wanted to get off. He had asked us where we were going, and when we said “Alhambra” he told us that this was our stop. Spanish people are so nice. We then set off on foot, suitcases rolling behind us, in the direction of our hotel. Remember how I said our hotel was near the mountains? By the walk, I would have sworn it was on top of a mountain. We walked up and up and up. Finally reaching the Alhambra, realized we were on the wrong side of it, and continued walking up until finally running into our hotel. Conveniently, it was a stone’s throw from the ticket booth of the Alhambra, so our main attraction to the city was right there.

At the hotel, we found a nice surprise: most people in Granada speak English. Speaking Spanish is hard work, and it was nice to occasionally cop out and use good ‘ol English to get a point across. After we checked in and got settled, we found a restaurant, had a long dinner, and headed off to bed early, tired from a long day of walking and traveling.

Granada — Day 2
Our main goal for the day was to see the Alhambra. We headed down pretty early, but the line to buy tickets was really long and very confusing. There were signs for buying tickets with cash, buying tickets with credit card, and buying reserved tickets. Kelly got in what looked like the main line, while I walked around and tried to figure out which line was which and tried to figure out if there was some wy to circumvent all the waiting. While I did that, Kelly eavesdropped on a Spanish guy asking a security guard if there was a faster way than the line. She heard him say that if you wanted to buy it with a card, you could just go to the (ridiculously short) line for pre-reserved tickets (as they were like movie theater kiosks). I took her place in line so we didn’t lose our progress, and she went and tried. Sure enough! we were able to skip the several hundred person line and head right to the site. I think this experience, more than any other of the weekend, convinced her that she could adequately speak and more importantly understand Spanish.

After we got the tickets, we headed into the palace. Alcazar is actually a fortress with 2 palaces inside, and a third on the opposing cliff. The Nasrid Palace is the main event, and each group of tourists is only allowed in during a 30 minute window. Our window was a few hours away, so we headed into the other areas of the Alhambra to look around. First, we went through the outer fortress. We could see the city from the top of the walls:

There were other ramparts and courtyards and such, but they were all outside, so they were mainly weathered:



After walking outside for a bit, we were able to enter the Nasrid Palace. This, to me, is the real Alhambra. Inside, the detail work was amazing:



The courtyards were absolutely beautiful. They make you realize why the Alhambra is such a treasured place. There were cool arches:



Waiting rooms:



and, of course, more courtyards:



After moving through the Nasrid Palace, we moved on to the other main palace on the opposing cliff, El Generalife. As far as we could tell, the Generalife was a palace for the general as Alhambra was a palace for the king. As such, it was a total letdown. We figured that the point of it was to give the general a nice place to live while reminding him constantly that the king was his boss. Every time he would look over the cliff, he would see this:



On the way out of Generalife, there was this cool walkway though:



With that ended our tour of the Alhambra. There was some other brief walking about, but nothing major to see. We went and got our bags and decided to find our way to the airport. We caught a bus back to Avenida Colon and grabbed lunch at a touristy place, then we set off down where we thought the bus for the airport picked up. We walked and walked, but couldn’t find the correct stop. Finally, just as we were about to give up an get our last cup of cafe con leche, the airport bus goes rolling by. We noted where it stopped for later, and went and enjoyed our last Spanish delicacies.

After food, we hopped on the bus and headed for the airport. It was a quick bus ride and we got there with plenty of time to spare. We realized we hadn’t yet registered for Boat Club Dinner, and I was in a panic to find an internet terminal. Apparently the mega-airport at Granada (said sarcastically because the airport only has 4 terminals) doesn’t have internet publicly available. We checked in for our flight and got in line for our plane.

This is the area for my rant. I have come to love England. It is a little rainy, yes, but in general I have really enjoyed it here. One thing that I really do question is their legendary ability to avoid queues and maintain politeness at all times (except maybe during football matches). While waiting in line to check in for our flight, a group of 11 Brits joined 1 person holding their place in line. RyanAir checks in everyone seperately. This really put off the people behind them. Whatever, I thought, its check-in, it isn’t a big deal. Then, while in line at the terminal to board the plane, it happened again. Now I would like to point out that at no point was I cut, so this is not a personal thing. Instead, this family or large, family-type group, cut 2 ladies traveling with children under the age of 3. When one said something, she was verbally assaulted by the group. Even a British guy in another line was telling them to get at the end because they “[were] making us all look bad”. They were totally without class the whole time, used foul language, and were generally offensive to everyone around. I guess there is always one group, but this one left a particularly bad impression. Say what you will about America, I have never seen anything like that level of selfishness and rudeness take place there.

Once on the plane, we braced ourselves for a 3 hour flight. It was over the Sierra Nevada mountains, so it got really bumpy at times. When we finally landed at Stansted, we were really glad to be back. We just had to go through customs. Once through, we found an internet kiosk (just in time), and got to our bus with minutes to spare. In just a few hours, we went from the cool 55 degrees to 25 degrees. It was painfully cold and we were both just a little sunburned from a great trip.

Welcome back to England!

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This Saturday, Will, Jackie, Kelly, and I made our way to Oxford. According to Will: 90% of the civil service is from Oxbridge (the combined Universities of Oxford and Cambridge), 70% of those are from Cambridge, so they decided to make it really easy to get from Cambridge to London, but not from London to Oxford. Also to avoid a corridor of education between Oxford and Cambridge, there are no direct routes between the two Universities. Thus, wanting to have a whole day in the City, we set off at about 6:00 for the train station.

The Train Ride
The ride to London was nothing special. The 40 minute direct train was nice enough and we all just chatted for a while. When we got to London, we had to take the tube to Paddington station. Because of some crazy construction, it took us longer than usual, and we missed the quick(er) train to Oxford. When we finally got to Paddington, we had about 45 minuntes until our train for Oxford. Luckily, there was a Krispy Kreme in the station so we were able to get breakfast and indluge a sweet tooth at the same time. Finally, it was time to get our train.

We went to one of the middle cars on the train that was essentially empty, sat down in a group of 6 seats that faced each other, and started talking. A few minutes later, a guy walked onto the train and sat across the aisle from us. This guy had scarred and tatooed arms, was on the skinniner side, balding, and looked like he had lived a somewhat rough life. We didn’t really think anything of it. As the doors of the train closed, he asked us where we were going. We told him Oxford, and he made some comment about it that I didn’t completely understand. He had a heavy accent. Over the next 45 minutes or so, he lectured us on lots of things. We could hardly get a word in edgewise, which is probably a good thing considering most of what he said took a while to translate. His topics included, but were not limited to:
- his luck at gambling and knowledge of when to get out of the game and collect his winnings
- how he is a good dancer
- his divorces and children and step-children
- how America is ruining the world (despite our accents, he somehow did not pick up on the fact that we were Americans, or didnt acknowledge it)
- how Oxford and Cambridge and educated people are ruining the world (despite his knowing that we come from Cambridge and are going to Oxford)
- how he occasionally liked to enjoy a ‘joint’ but had a safety valve and would never touch crack or heroin
- how it is impolite to call someone who uses crack a crackhead
- the state and current cost of social housing
- his experience with psychiatric help
- his medical history
- something about a fox
Obviously, this guy made quite an impression. Fortunately, he disembarked about halfway to Oxford. It was an experience, but especially with Kelly there, he made me really uncomfortable.

Christ Church
When we finally arrived at Oxford, we really didn’t have a plan. Win had emailed me a list of fun things to do while we were there, but in my haste to leave, I had forgotten to print it. We will cover the ones we didn’t hit on this trip next time we go to Oxford, which will probably be in the spring. We started down toward city center and walked along High Street, a pedesrian only promenade with a list of shops almost identical to that of Cambridge. We turned down another street and found our first college of the day: Christ Church. It worked out perfectly, because it let us take an up-close look at some of the architecture and enjoy a little time away from the city. We walked across Christ Church Meadow:

to the river and followed the river down to the boathouses. We were able to see some of the teams practicing, mostly novice by the look of it. We then followed the river up to Magdalen bridge, where we rejoined one of the main roads. Apparently, Magdalen bridge is famous. By looking at it, you wouldn’t think so. It isn’t very impressive. The tradition, however, is that after exams, people run to Magdalen bridge and vault into the river. I am not sure about the river in Oxford, but if you did that in Cambridge, you wouldn’t have to worry about passing your exams, you would be in the hospital with all sorts of infections first. From, the bridge, you could see Magdalen tower:

One small note. I recently bought a tripod because I was sick of my pictures turning out blurry. I also tried out this program that lets you take bracketed photos (3 photos of the same scene: properly exposed, underexposed, and overexposed) and merge them into what is called a High Dynamic Range photo. It basically lets you take pictures of things that have really high contrast within the frame and show all of the areas of the picture. This is really good for shooting old buildings, or places with lots of shadows. It creates pictures that mimic more what the human eye sees naturally (though it can be argued that from a photography point of view this is somewhat cheating, but it makes neat pictures so I don’t really care). This also made me slightly annoying, I think, to my travel companions because I was always stopping to take multiple long-exposure photos of cool things. Some of them turned out really well and are posted here, the rest can be seen on my photo website.

Magdalen Bridge
From the bridge, we walked to the Radcliffe:

the famed reading room of the famed Bodelian Library (everything is famed in Oxford):



We also returned here after sunset to get some night photos.

The Eagle and Child

After all the walking, we were cold and hungry. We had all heard of the Eagle and Child, a famous pub where C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein would hang out and talk about whatever insanely famous authors discuss. Apparently they would call it the Bird and Baby. It was the perfect English pub. It was dark and sort of cavernous. The bartenders were funny and I had to duck to get though every doorway. Most importantly the food was amazing. Like I mentioned, we were chilled to the bone, so the steak and ale pie that I ordered was just the right thing. It is essentially a steak pot pie minus the vegetables. Pure comfort food.

The Museums
After lunch, we decided to head for the Museum of History of Science. It turns out that this was rightly not on Win’s list of things to do. It was essentially the museum of astrolabes, quadrangles, and sextants. There was one cool exhibit, though. Apparently Einstein has visited Oxford to give a lecture in the 1930s. When he did, they cut about 5 lines of the chalkboard away from the wall and saved it. It has his original handwriting where he describes the density of the universe, or something. Its especially neat because you can see where he made a small error and used his hand to smudge it out.

We then went to the Museum of Oxford. It was pretty informative, but not exciting (also not on Win’s list). I fell asleep for about 13 minutes of the 15 minute short film they had on the town. It wasn’t very exciting. The museum did drive home the point that the Oxford colleges are essentially a set of former monasteries that were disbanded over a course of several hundred years.

Food
After a bit more walking, it was tea time. We found a restaurant to have tea in. Then, walked around a little more. We went and took some more pictures and went to a pub that Will and Jackie suggested. It is called the Turf Tavern. Never have I seen a pub hidden in the middle of a city block. After going down 2 tiny allies, we found our way to the pub. It was a really cool place. Unfortunately, despite its difficult location, all the tables were taken. so instead, we went to Nando’s. It is a Portugese restaurant. It is the closest thing to am American dining experience

I have had since I have been here. They had real lemonade, not Sprite relabeled as lemonade. The food was quick, plentiful, and delicious. Even better: we have one in Cambridge. I’ll definitely be going there again.

Finally, we got back on the train and headed home. I can honestly say that from that I saw, I like Cambridge much better than Oxford. I am sure once you get into the colleges and everything, it is a great place, but they aren’t very inviting to visitors.

This weekend we have our first race: the Bedford Head.

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A few days ago was mine and Kelly’s friend Jackie’s birthday. (If that isn’t a confusing statement I don’t know what is). Her husband, Will, wanted to take her to a show in London to surprise her. So, on Saturday, Kelly and I boarded the train for London.

Will and Jackie came a bit later. Before we went to see the matinée show at 2:30, we met up with Amy a friend of Kelly’s from home. She is studying in London on a program not unlike the one I was on in Spain. A group of students goes to a foreign city and brings along a professor. The professor teaches classes the he would have taught were he still teaching at Wake Forest, where she goes. We went to lunch at a little cafe in the neighborhood where Amy lived (and purportedly where Jude Law lives too), and went back to her house to have a tour of the Wake Forest-owned digs. It was a nice time.

Our second task of the day was to find a Krispy Kreme donut store to show some solidarity with the Krispy Kreme Challenge running that day. I knew there was a Krispy Kreme in Victoria Station, one of the major tube hubs. After lunch with Amy, we didn’t have time to go all the way there before the show. Amy thought there was a store at Camden Town, on our way, but she failed to mention that Camden town on a Saturday reminds me of pictures I have seen of Tokyo (packed, with little room to move).

Not disheartened by our lack of donuts, we decided to head to the show. We met up with Will and Jackie about a block from Her Majesty’s Theatre and headed in. The show was great. It seems that London playhouses were made for smaller people than I, so there hasn’t been nearly enough legroom in either of the shows we have gone to, but they have both been very entertaining. One other thing that I really prefer about American playhouses is that food is not allowed into the theater proper. You can eat and drink in the lobby, but not inside. The theater, even at a matinee, is no place for crinkly bags of chips or wrapped hard candy. If you want that, go to the movies. Tickets are simply too expensive to ruin the performance with the sound of crunching. That said, the performance was excellent. Although I agree with Kelly that Wicked (which we saw when she visited in October) was more uplifting than Phantom of the Opera, both were extremely well performed. Phantom was really well done in every way, and we all had a really good time.

After the show we rode the tube to Knightsbridge. It is the Rodeo Dr. of London. Gucci, Prada, Armani, and other such stores line the streets with a surprisingly high number of Aston Martins, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis. We just gawked as we walked through, knowing that it would be a long time before any of us could even think of entering one of those stores or driving one of those cars. We walked out of Knightsbridge and found a little Italian cafe where we ate dinner. Then we tracked down a pub, got on a train, and headed back to Cambridge.

It was a really fun trip. I am glad Will and Jackie are here. They are great friends to have, someone to talk about ACC sports with, and another couple that is always willing to join us in having a good time.

That’s all for now. Next weekend’s day trip: Oxford.

Address to a Haggis
Robert Burns
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin’-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang’s my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
‘Bethankit’ hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!

These were the words that were exclaimed over the Haggis at Burns Night. Traditionally celebrated on Jan 25, the birthday of the national Bard of Scotland, it is a night of Haggis, Tatties n’ Neeps, and Scotch. It was quite an ordeal. Normal grad halls, as I have described before, are interesting but in general pretty tame. Perhaps some have a little too much wine, or the food can be a little too gourmet, but as we entered the hall, a bagpiper in full Scottish dress played. After Haddie soup, everyone stood as the Haggis was played in by the pipes. The above poem was read, during which the Haggis was cut. After the reading, we all raised our glasses to the delicacy, and were served.

Now I must say that I have a certain sense of adventure when it comes to food. I will try just about anything (as long as it is not in any way related to the vile olive). The thought of Haggis, explicitly heart, stomach, lungs, and intestine, did put me off a little. I persevered, though, and at it with a smile. It was actually quite good. It isn’t really identifiable as anything by look, and by taste it is seasoned heavily. It might not be my favorite food, but I would certainly eat it again. We had tatties n’ neeps (potatoes and turnips) with it, which were also good.

With dinner was served Scotch. I was actually really disappointed with it. Normally our wines are good and our port is too. Our Scotch, while it did complement the Haggis somewhat, was really harsh. Granted, I am no connoisseur of Scotch, but in my humble opinion, it was a little rough. After dinner, we had cranachan. It is a whiskey mousse with oatmeal in it and a little raspberry at the bottom. Like the haggis, it was enjoyable but not amazing. I can honestly say that the Scots seem to eat much like the English. Their food isn’t amazing, but it isn’t offensive either.

One interesting thing to note is that EVERY course had whiskey in it. The soup did, the main did (and had Scotch served alongside), and the dessert did. You usually couldn’t taste it, but the Scottish do love their drink.

Unfortunately, in the excitement, I didn’t take too many pictures. I will put up what I did take soon, so come back for those.

Over the next couple of weeks, there is a certain amount of traveling ahead. I have a race in Bedford, Kelly and I are going to London to see a friend of hers, and we will be taking the first of our several trips to mainland Europe (in this case southern Spain, where it is warm!).

Sorry for the infrequency of my posts. Kelly and I returned to Cambridge about two weeks ago. What a busy two weeks it has been! Luckily, we both arrived without too much trouble. The plane ride was a little bumpy, and our total travels from Raleigh to Cambridge had more legs than expected.

Now that we are here, though, things have finally begun to settle down. Kelly has moved into her new place, which is arguable nicer than mine. She has found her advisor and gotten started in the lab. She has even begun to wow the social world of Trinity Hall, making new friends and joining in the delights of graduate dinner at the hall.

I am once again really rolling through my research. As always, it has its ups and downs, but I am glad to be making sure progress toward my degree. I spend lots of time in the lab.

Rowing has been picking up as well. We practice something like 8 times a week; bumps (the big race at the end of the term) is only 6 weeks away, so we have to train like the devil to make sure we are up to speed come race day. I can’t say I like getting up early any more, but it does get me to work early. I am sitting in 7 seat in the 1st Men’s Eight for the club. That means I can get one of the awesome jackets I talked about in a previous post. How exciting! Really though, even though it might not be a fashion statement, I am excited to get one. Rowing has been a great experience here, and I am glad to be able to continue.

For now, that is really it. Grad (formal) halls start again this week with Burns Night (Scottish food: Haddie soup and Haggis). I think it is one of those things that I just have to try while I am here — and try not to think about what is in it. This weekend, I Kelly and I are going to plan some of our travels. I will post about them as they come up. For now, we are both just enjoying Cambridge life.

On Tuesday I began my journey home. At 8:00, I got up and finished packing. Then, I went into town to the College to get some things cleared up before I left, talk to the housing people to make some progress on finding a place for Kelly to live, then got the last of my Christmas shopping done. Finally, at 10:20, my taxi met me at my house to take me to the bus stop. I got to the bus stop about a half-hour early and waited.

The bus ride to the airport took about two and a half hours, but went without a hitch. Then, I got on the plane. The flight back took almost 8 hours: I didn’t sleep. I guess that is best to avoid the jet lag, but still, time doesn’t seem to pass at all. It was pretty uneventful. The only real excitement was when I filled out my customs card and put it in my jacket pocket, it put my passport with it. When I set my jacket down, my passport slipped out of my pocket onto the floor of the plane. About 4 hours later, when I moved my coat, I noticed the customs card was there, but not my passport. Of course, I was a little panicked. After about an hour of searching, I gave up temporarily. When the guy next to me woke up, I asked him to check around his feet. Somehow it had slid behind his feet. I was so relieved.

I landed at Dulles and caught my connecting flight to Norfolk without any problems. What awaited me there was the most exciting part. I saw my parents at the end of the terminal hall. I gave my parents hugs and thought I was done. But no! Much to my surprise, Kelly came out of nowhere and put her hand on my back. I turned and was absolutely speechless. For me, that is very telling, I am always able to talk. I gave her a huge hug. It was really nice to be home. It was great to see my parents. But that surprise was the best possible addition to the end of a long trip. It was so nice to see her sooner than expected. I could never thank her enough.

For now, I am going to see the family, visit Raleigh, help plan the wedding, see friends, and plain relax. Already I have had Bojangles (with sweet tea!) and tacos, and I think cookout in on tap for later tonight. This might be my last post until I return to Cambridge, or at least for a while. I hope everyone has merry Christmas and a happy Hanukkah.

Fairbairns: the biggest rowing race of Michaelmas Term

I guess this term really was the term of rowing in scratch crews (ie, ones that have never practiced together). For every race, it seems that something came up that we needed to change crews at the last minute. This time, rugby was the culprit. Ian, one of our bowsiders (starboard for those of you rowers from home), hurt his shoulder in a rugby match on Thursday afternoon. On Friday morning, he discovered that he couldn’t raise his arm above his waist.

Thus, with 30 minutes before we were supposed to meet at the boathouse to prepare for the race, the search for a sub began. Fortunately, a friend of our captain was able to sub. Unfortunately, he was a strokesider, so we had to switch one of our extra strokesiders to bowside. I guess all that doesn’t make much sense to those without rowing experience. Suffice it to say it would be like someone telling you that you had to take an essay final, using only your non-dominant hand. Switching sides race day is very difficult.

When we finally got on the water, everythign seemed perfect, it was sunny and nice, and it looked like we were going to have a solid tailwind. As we marshalled for the race (almost an hour), the wind changed and the clouds came in. We broke out space blankets we had brought along just in case, but the wind made them mostly ineffectual. Here is a picture of us marshalling:

Finally, we were off. The race began well, but since we hadn’t practiced as much as we should have, we didn’t maintain power as well as we might. Considering the circumstances, we did ok though: 19 out of 61 competing teams. Considering some of the boats had been practicing 8 times a week or more all term, that isn’t too shabby. Here is our boat on the racecourse:



I know it is a little blurry, but my little camera can only do so much. I should at this point thank Ian and Lucy for carrying it on shore and taking a few photos. Others took more on their own cameras, and as I find them, I will link them here.

After the race finished, we were as far from our boathouse as you can get on the Cam without going over a lock. Since the river is so narrow, we had to wait until our whole division of 61 boats finished before we could head home (we went off 13th). Remember that cold and wind? Well, it got worse. We were able to pull our boat to shore and get out, which helped a little, but not greatly. We basically all bundled up in those stylish space blankets and tried to keep warm for an hour and a half while the rest of the division cleared the course. Here are a couple of my boatmates doing just that:

Rob is also looking quite stylish in Zoe’s glasses.

The row back was cold, but we made it. It was really nice to get inside the boathouse to warm up. A group of us went to a pub near the boathouse for lunch. They have really delicious burgers, just what the doctor ordered after such a chilly day.

DId I mention that since it was on a Friday, I worked in the lab in the morning, then returned to the lab after? I guess that is the real Cambridge experience. Academics and rowing, living in harmony and totally integrated.

I depart for the States in 3 days. Between now and then: finish Christmas shopping, summarize my work thus far for my advisor, pack, have lunch one last time with a professor visiting Cambridge from State, buy a bus ticket, and get on a plane. It is going to be a busy 3 days.

I’m looking forward to getting home, seeing Kelly, my family, eating good old American junk food, and relaxing for a month.

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Boat Club Dinner

Well, the end of the term is here. For undergrads, there is a term system. Lectures are given for 8 weeks each term, and at the end, there is a big break (about 5-6 weeks). There are three terms yearly, and at the end of the third term, students take their exams and pass their classes. Even though there were no exams this term for most, people definitely were excited to have finished up for the Christmas holiday.

At the end of each term, we hold what is called boat club dinner. It is basically a black-tie team blanket. To come, you have to have rowed that term or graduated as a rower. It is a legendary event, so there are some people who only row enough to be allowed into the dinner.

When I arrived, it seemed like any other dinner. Everyone dressed up, and we went to formal hall. Once there, the fun began. First, our captain, Fergal, had the duty to read fines. These were basically offenses that people submitted to him that others had committed. If your name was read, you had to drink. Fortunately, the only one that applied to me was “I’m an American”, so I didn’t drink too much. There were others though who were being targeted or had just offended a lot of people. A friend of mine and I made it a point to target our captain (so we submitted these to the women’s captain so they would actually be read).

There were other traditions as well. We sang a number of easy-to-learn songs that insulted other rowers. We yelled chants against Downing, who were the last ones to bump us out of first place (headship) on the river. We even cheered “take off your shoe if you love Tit Hall (the nickname of our college)”. Thus, this happened:

You will notice that the Domus Bursar, the second in command behind the master, even has his shoe off. Obviously, even he loves Tit Hall. It is really nice that the college administration embraces tradition. There have been masters in the past that have not, which is why we don’t have headship right now (we held it for many years, our boat club is lengendary). Now, the boat club is becoming a fixture again. Before I move on, I would like to point out the white and black jacket in the picture of the guy on the right. That is a first boat jacket. You can only buy them if you make the first boat (or a slightly different one for second boat) for bumps. It is definitely distinct. I want one.

After, there was a party in J2, our sort of rowing headquarters at college. Our captain also lives there. I went ahead of time, and snapped some pictures.

You can see that there are lots of blades on the walls. That means that in that particular year, the boat bumped 4 times. This is no small feat. There is a saying around here: “Bump 3 times, you’re good; bump 4 times, you’re lucky.” Maybe that is true, but we have done it many times over the years. It is really cool to see all the history behind the club. One of these days, I will take pictures of the boathouse for everyone to see.

Christmas Formal

Apparently, when term ends, it is just about food. On Wednesday, instead of our normal formal hall, we had Christmas dinner. It was different in several ways: no gowns, port served with dinner, the master gave a talk. More like Matriculation Dinner than like formal hall. There were a number of funny things we did though. First, at each seat, in addition to our menu, was a little booklet with this title:

The best part about this? No organized singing. We all just broke into spontaneous song and people joined in. Even the guy from Singapore sitting next to me who had obviously never heard a Christmas song before joined in as best he could.

At each seat when we arrived, we had little presents. They were tubes that popped when you opened them and a joke fell out. They definitely added to the atmosphere. The jokes were really bad. Mine:

What do you get when you cross a skeleton and a detective?
Sherlock Bones
Fun though.

Then came the food, and what food it was! We had duck:

It was really good. Then, after a rousing round of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”, immediately following the lyrics “bring us some figgy pudding, and a cup of good cheer”, out came the port and figgy pudding (actually the slightly more modern Christmas pudding, but very very similar). They lit it on fire before serving it:

And here is the actual treat:

It wasn’t the most delicious thing ever, but that is British food for you. Most of it is an acquired taste. After dessert, the Master spoke, and so did Scott, our outgoing MCR president. They all did a very nice job.

The dinners were lots of fun. I guess I have one more major post between now and returning home: Fairbairns. I will do that tonight. I have to get shopping for Christmas presents now.

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This is a short post to congratulate Saket and his team. They have been working on a business plan around a social entrepreneurship venture to use UV light to purify water cheaply and effectively in developing nations. Although I don’t know many of the details, they have been selected to present their idea to a panel of judges at the University of Washington to compete in the Global Social Entrepreneurship Competition.

This is just more evidence that when I start a company, Saket will have to be a part of it. He brings the analysis of an engineer to the business world and has been invaluable in every project I have collaborated with him on. Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, Larry and Sergey, look out Saket Vora is on his way.

The last two weeks have been really busy. When I say busy, I mean the lots to do sort of busy more than the lots to talk about sort of busy. My time has mostly been taken by research. There have been a few non-research fun things that have gone on, and a success in research or two.

First, this last week, I attended formal hall at Queen’s College. I went under a program called a formal swap. We send 10 or so of our grads to their hall for dinner and they send a corresponding number to ours. It was a fun time. We all met outside Queen’s Porter’s Lodge (a professionally run 24-hour desk for the college) and headed into the college bar. The bar was really nice. There, we were served sherry and orange juice (not mixed, separate options). Since the sherry wasn’t very good, most of the Trinity Hallers went for OJ. We then proceeded to the formal hall. Scott, my neighbor, characterized as an elementary school gym. I was more apt to describe it as a mega-church. It was clearly 80s style architecture nowhere near as impressive as Trinity Hall’s. From what I understood, they have a smaller formal hall that is beautiful, but they don’t use it much since it only seats around 40 people.

Once dinner started, we all got to reading the menus:

• Lentil Soup
• Guinea Fowl
• Green beans and herb potatoes
• Chocolate Tort

Well, lentil soup was there, so were the green beans and potatoes. None of us, however, believed that the red meat in front of us was guinea fowl. It took a few tries asking, but we finally determined that it was lamb. Whatever it was, it was delicious. The dessert was the best part. The chef there apparently has a Michelin star (a huge honor is the culinary world) for his desserts. We all looked forward to that, and it by far the best part of the meal. Afterward, we all mingled for a bit and headed back to our residences.

On Thursday, two of us from my research group went to a meeting with the physics group with whom we collaborate. The purpose of the meeting is to see what methods and such we each have and how we can use them together. At first, they grilled Kevin, my groupmate, on his research. Then, when it was my turn, they really took it easy. I had mentioned that I had been working on my project for about a year less than Kevin had, so maybe that is why. But I could have answered most of the questions they asked him, so I was disappointed not to be tested. My chance to shine came sometime later though. One of the members of the physics group started talking about atomic layer depositon (ALD). He was saying that the process took days and months. Furthermore, it sounded as if most of the group was really just learning about the method. After about 10 mins of not being able to get a word in edgewise, I dropped the bomb that I had worked with ALD for almost 2 years back home in the States. Immediately, I went from being the new guy, to having a whole group trying to be my good friend. Now, I am helping to design a faster, more efficient system for them. Hopefully we can get it to work, and I will both be able to use it for my own experiments and include it as a major part of my thesis.

On Friday, I attended a seminar call “Silicon Valley Comes to Cambridge”. It was held at the business school. The main question (debated the night before directly, but I couldn’t make it because I was at formal hall at Queen’s) was: how can Cambridge become the next Silicon Valley. My answer: work harder and stop being afraid of risk. The sessions themselves were concerned with the basics: IP, taking on existing big companies, how to get a product to market. Most of the people there were talking about software though. Although software is a lucrative area right now, you can’t run software without hardware. Because you can do things like fix bugs in software after you release a product, or do rapid development, the culture is totally different. I found myself frustrated with the suggestion that every product or idea could be handled in some way similar to software. I think they sometimes forget that software is free. If you have a week of free time, you can write a decent program. Hardware products require that you actually research and fully test before you release. Perpetual beta is not acceptable. The other thing that seems to pervade at these events is the existence of MBA students. They are obsessed with business plans. The Silicon Valley people could care less, and are sometimes jerks about it. I really think that if you are a garage entrepreneur in Silicon Valley, you automatically have a huge amount of disdain for MBA people. They are all that is evil: rigid business plans and (in many cases) lack of real technical understanding. It reality, you can’t get funding without a business plan, but if you spend too much time making up market numbers that everyone knows is just hand-waving anyway, you will lose your edge.

Overall, it was an interesting day. These kinds of things make me want to go out and start my own company. I know that with some of the right people working with me (Kelly, Saket, Win, etc), we could make some seriously cool things. For now, I get to go to seminars like this one and just learn as much as I can before I get involved myself.

Today was the Winter Head. It was a race on the Cam from the lock to the Penny Ferry pub (about 2.5k). It was a good race. Although results haven’t been posted yet, we think we held our own. This is sort of a surprise since we had never rowed in that configuration before. It was a good time. Tomorrow, we have the Emma Sprints. It is one of the few side-by-side races on the Cam. As such, the race itself is only 500m (officially, though I hear that it is actually shorter). We do it in “fancy dress” which just means in costumes. It should be fun.