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What Can It Be?


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Fange den Busse

It always takes me a moment to adjust to a real public transport system.

As I approached a bus stop in Brisbane, I had the privilege of watching the bus I wanted to catch leave without me.

Because I come from Townsville, it didn't even occur to me that I could continue approaching the bus stop and wait there for another bus. In Brisbane, one can safely assume that a bus route that goes from the city centre to one of the biggest universities in the area will probably have buses running every ten or fifteen minutes.

In Townsville, this doesn't happen. If you miss the 8.05 bus, the next bus to pass on that route is the 9.05 one. If you are exceptionally lucky, and you are in an area that is kind of central, there may be another bus on a different route that also happens to stop at your bus stop and goes to where you want to go, but chances are it will be half an hour before that one turns up. Either that, or the time table will have changed and it actually came ten minutes ago.

In Townsville, if you miss the bus, you think of a plan B. So, that's what I did in Brisbane. My plan B involved going back to Central Station and taking the train to Toowong in order to catch a bus from there. It was only as I was sitting in the train that it occured to me that the bus I would be catching in Toowong was on the exact same route as the bus I missed. I did the maths and worked out it wasn't the same bus, so there had to be fairly regular buses running that route.

Which makes sense, really. There's not much point in running a public transport system if being two minutes late to catch one bus means your whole day is thrown out the window.

I worked in Brisbane for a month in a locum position, and by the time I was there for a week I had the public transport system running in my veins. I just "got it". I knew what I could and couldn't do. I was happy enough to give myself a generous window of time and "let it be". I always got to where I was going, and I was never more than ten minutes late.

Yet, live in a place like Townsville and you just lose the knack for it. It's like what happens to your piano skills when you stop playing for a couple of years.

A sad point: As I watched the bus drive off and started formulating a Plan B, I noticed Brisbane's shiny new bike rental things and my first thought was "Yes! I shall ride a bike!" which was rapidly followed by "I don't have a helmet and do not wish to break the law or die!" and "how do you ride to UQ from the city centre anyway? Is there a place to log these things once I get there?"

Not being able to see a ready answer to any of these objections, I headed back to the train station. I think, if they actually expect this whole "hiring a bike" thing to take off, they need to think about the helmet situation. No one is going to carry a helmet around with them all day - especially if they weren't planning on riding a bike but might think of taking one if they saw it (like me). Sure, rented helmets have a little bit of an "ick" factor, but people might be more likely to carry a cycling cap or bandana to wear under a rented helmet than lug their own helmet about the place.

Alternatively, they could adjust the laws so that people riding on certain paths below a given speed are exempt from the helmet laws.

Not that it really matters, I've just been looking at the service online, and it doesn't look like the kind of thing a visitor to Brisbane can just use on the spot. You have to subscribe, and the website isn't clear if you can do this from the terminals.

Hey, Brisbane City Council? One word of advice: if you want people to use things, you have to make it easy and hassle free.

Flying

I had the do the old one-day-shuffle to Brisbane and back on Friday.

Up at 4.30 to catch a 6.00 flight, then back on the plane at 19.00 to get home after 21.00.

a) I'm not keen on getting up at my usual time in the morning, let alone 2 1/2 hours earlier than usual.
b) I don't like flying
c) I don't like flying with Virgin.

Actually, it's not the carrier I dislike so much as the planes. I was relatively ambivalent about flying back in the days when they didn't have those stupid screens in the back of every seat. In fact, I actually love flying in small planes. Give me a Dash-8 and I'm happy.

But a 737? Torture.

And it's largely because of those screens. I'm fine for the first ten minutes or so, but then the constant barrage of flickering light from all angles starts giving me a heck of a headache, which makes be feel nauseated, which then compounds the natural stomach-churning aspect of being in a large plane (which, like a large boat, is more likely to give you motion sickness than a small plane/boat).

Sometimes I can bury my head in something to read, and not look up for long periods of time, but eventually I do have to raise my head, and when I do I see the screens. No matter how much I try, I can't avoid them. I can turn off the screen in front of me, but I can't turn off the one in front of my neighbour - or in front the person across the aisle diagonally in front of me. Or the one that the person in front of my neighbour is watching... They are everywhere.

Then one of two things will happen. Either something will catch my eye and I'll look directly at a screen which is on an angle to me - something that actually makes it worse for someone who is astigmatic. Then I'll get a head-ache within a minute, tops. Or, I'll determinedly try to avoid looking directly at any part of the plane which has a screen in it - which pretty much confines me to looking at the roof, the floor and the back of my own hands. Even then, the flickering is still visible at the edge of my vision, so I end up getting a headache within a few minutes anyway - it just takes a little longer.

I don't know if there is a solution to this. I'd like to think that, if I walked up to the counter and said: "Hello, I have to sit somewhere where I can't see any screens, otherwise I'll feel physically ill and possibly throw up in your plane", that they might be able to arrange a non-screen seating location.

It's just that I'm reasonably sure the only way that would work would be if they put me in the very front of the plane and turned off the screens embedded in the wall in front of those seats, and the other people sitting there might object. Plus, that would make it hard to arrange the other seating requirement I have when sitting still for hours at a time - an aisle seat so I can stretch my left leg, which starts to ache if I can't move it regularly.

Honestly, I'd much rather take the train or drive. If only modern society didn't have this crazy notion that just because you can get from Point A to Point B in two hours, you should.

Blast from the Past, I think...

"Kids Incorporated! K! I! D! S!"

Is it possibly to barely remember a single thing about a show but still be incredibly excited to hear it mentioned?

I can't remember the plot of Kids Incorporated. I can't rembember any of the characters. I can't remember anything that happened in any of the episodes...

But, man, do I remember the theme song - and, catching up with the opening credits of the various series on YouTube, I vaguely remember bits of those squences, too.

I feel like I have happy memories of this show and yet, beyond the theme song, I can't remember anything about it at all.

Hmm...

Mangoes

In the back yard is a mango tree. An ancient specimen, it is easily as old as the house. My grandfather planted it as a sapling shortly after moving in. Before the house had fences, it had this tree.

The tree was well established long before I was born. As a child, I used to climb the tree whenever I was willing to brave the rough bark and green ants. There was rarely a time when the tree did not play host to a platoon of green ants, which are fun to annoy as long as you don't give them skin to bite. They have this fabulous way of raising themselves on their hind legs and reaching out to get you, jaws extended. It's very exciting, if mildly dangerous.

I've never eaten a green ant, although I've been told they taste slightly of citrus. I have been bitten by them many a time, though. They are tenacious little beasts, once they get their pincers into you. On more than one occasion, I've tried to remove a biting green ant only to have the head separate from the body. So determined were they that they simply would not let go - not even to save themselves from being torn apart. I'm reasonably sure the head remained alive for a moment thereafter, just to keep biting. It always took a few seconds to get rid of the head, and even then the sting remained for some time after. They tell me green ants have a substance on their pincers that aggravate the sting. I believe them.

The mango tree is significantly older than I am, but still produces fruit. I have seen mango trees well over 60 years that still drop their fruit all over the ground to carpet the parks and pathways around town. Every year, as we come into summer, the trees burst forth in an excess of drupes, which largely go towards feeding the local fruit bat population. The bats grab the fuit, take one bite and drop the remainder to the ground, where the birds peck at it for the next couple of days. My mother has always found this intensely annoying. She feels the bats should have the decency to eat the whole fruit, if they are going to take it.

I find this interesting, as she eats approximately one mango a season. If it was left to her, the fruit would probably rot on the tree. At least, once the bats have thrown it to the ground, a number of other critters can get to it. Birds, insects, possums...

I used to hate mangoes. I couldn't stand the smell of them, and found the taste obnoxious. I could never understand why anyone would want to eat them. Then, one day, I found myself drawn to them. I wanted to try eating them, even though I could not explain why. I couldn't even bring myself to eat more than a few cubes of a cut mango. I had to share the mango with my grandmother, or it would go entirely to waste.

That was a nice experience, actually: learning to appreciate mangoes by sharing them with my grandmother. By this stage in time she was no longer capable of cutting them up for herself (you have to stand up for a while to cut up a mango, and she didn't have the legs for it anymore). Plus, she seemed to get great pleasure out of sharing the mangoes with me.

I acquired the taste for them over time. Eventually, I would find myself cutting up two mangoes - one for each of us. And then, of course, it was just one for myself.

Now I love them. I quite look forward to mango season and can happily eat a mango a day. I find, however, that I am not up to the challenge of eating all of the mangoes we manage to save from the bats. If I paid more attention, I would get them to work in time to share with my colleagues. Unfortunately, I tend to forget to do such things until they are slightly over-ripe and not fit for sharing.

So my challenge is to emulate generations of fruit growing families before me and find things to make with the fruit that is passed the "fit for eating" stage. I found a recipe for mango sorbet the other day, which proved rather successful. And I stumbled across a recipe for a mango tart, which I have yet to try. It would be a shame to take the fruit from the bats, birds, insects and possums if I was not going to make good use of it, after all...

Eesti Nädal

See on eesti nädal. Eile olnud väga eesti. Ma lugesin eesti raamatud ja kuulasin eesti raadio. Eile olnud hea. Täna? Täna olnud väga saksa. Me saime mõned iPodid. iPodid ei on eesti keelis, aga need on saksa keelis. Nii, see on palju saksa keel täna.

I suspect a lot of that was particularly bad.

Meanwhile, Helen has actually been paying enough attention to notice that it's Estonian Week this week. She noticed I was messing about with the German language functions on the iPods and wagged a finger at me because it's Estonian Week this week.

Have I ever mentioned that Helen is unnervingly good?

A Clean Desk

Ah, cleaning.

In my heart of hearts, I hope it will lead to a more orderly life, where I actually remember what I'm doing from one minute to the next and I don't let things get buried for three years until they stop being relevant.

I have visions of a world in which I do one thing at a time (maybe two, tops), do it well and get it done within a reasonable time frame. A world in which I know what I should be doing today, and I can still remember what that is by the time I get through my emails in the morning.

A world in which I'm not storing large amounts of useless junk for no apparent reason - even though I'm sure it seemed useful and worth keeping at some point.

I fear, however, that I am not the kind of person who can create such an environment. Orderly workspaces, like tropical rain forests, need the appropriate life forms to generate the atmosphere necessary to sustain the existence of the habitat as a whole.

In this analogy, an orderly desk is a tropical rain forest. I am a cactus. Can the two ever really live for long in the same place? Will the cactus suck the moisture and life out of the tropical rain forest? Or is it possible to foster the rain forest long enough for the cactus to adapt to it, so that it becomes a tropical rain forest cactus?

Perhaps, like the Australian bush, what is truly needed is a fire to purge the old life so that new life can grow?

Perhaps I should have been using the cleaning products in a better ventilated room. Good thing I left my colleges there with the fumes while I left to sit on the reference desk for an hour. By the time I return to my temporarily clean desk, they might have caught up with me.