Malaysian loos are famous for being wet.... Very very wet till sometimes it floods.. Last time it happens in every loo, but now times have changed, probably due to plenty of complaints over the years.. So, now in most malls, there will be a cleaning lady holding a mop, waiting, watching eaching cubicle to make sure the loo floor is always dry. There are also some malls that dont put hose in their cubicles. I also love the malls which have queuing system in the loos...
There's a new toilet trend now in malls. They put up signs on each cubicle door to indicate what kind of toilet seat it is aka squatting or sitting... That saves us ladies at least a few seconds in the toilet so we dont have to keep on opening every cubicle door to find our preferred toilet seat. Also, ang mohs who have never seen squatting toilet before will not be so shocked when seeing one in this country anymore. My american cousins once entered a squatting cubicle and ended up rushing out while laughing, asking me how to use it!
Hooray for toilet improvements in this country...at least in sooomee places~~
Tuesday 3 January 2012
Friday 30 December 2011
Happy New Year!
It's soon going to be 1 January and the calendar will click round one more year: hullo 2012 *waves*
However, it hasn't always been the case that 1 January was New Year's Day. For a very long time the New Year began in March. This actually isn't such a strange concept. The Chinese have their New Year's celebrations in February. Jewish New Year is in September.
A Year Has No Obvious Beginning
A year simply measures the length of time the Earth takes to do a complete rotation of the Sun: no one can say "this is the day it started", so there's no reason to choose January over any other time. In many ways New Year in March makes more sense: it's when Spring arrives and is the beginning of the natural year.
So why does the year begin in January? Well it's actually because of the Romans. Their very first calendar had March as the first month (more of this later) but in BC153 they moved New Year to January for reasons connected with the governmental year. There it stayed for some time.
Here Come the Christians!
Now enter the Christians. 1 January has absolutely no religious connotations for the Church. 25 December does - it is the somewhat randomly selected date for Christ's birthday. Yes, random: the Bible gives us no clue as to when Christ was born except to mention that the shepherds were tending their flocks. They almost certainly wouldn't have been out in winter doing so.
Sir Isaac Newton argued that the early Christians simply took over a pagan ceremony connected to the winter solstice, and that seems still to be the predominant theory. Most Christians say this doesn't matter: the point is to celebrate the coming to the world of Jesus.
The Christians didn't start New Year at Christ's birth though: they counted back a pregnancy of 9 months (Swiss-Judean precision!) to Lady Day: 25 March. This is Annunciation Day: when Mary received the Holy Spirit and became pregnant with Jesus. So there we have it. New Year in the Christian Calendar became 25 March.
Mildly Confusing
That's kinda mildly confusing though. We're used to the New Year starting nice and neatly at the start of a new month (e.g on 1 January). For centuries however the calendar went like this:
22 March 1499
23 March 1499
24 March 1499 (New Year's Eve)
25 March 1500 (New Year's Day)
26 March 1500
27 March 1500 etc.
There's a neat little example of the old Christian calendar in action in Salisbury Cathedral. Look hard and you'll find a tiny grave of a boy. In modern English his stone reads as follows: Here lies the Body of Thomas, Son of Thomas Lambert, Gentleman... Born May 13 1683, died February 9 of the same year.
See how that is possible? Good. Poor little baby Thomas died in February of 1683 just short of nine months old, because New Year's Day 1684 didn't arrive until 25 March.
The Romans Made a Mistake
Still with me? Smashing. Now it gets a bit more confusing still. The Romans had introduced the calendar with 12 months in BC45 under Caesar. It is named the Julian Calendar (presumably because he had a favourite budgie called Julie. Or something). Anyway, the Romans were a clever bunch, but they made a tiny mistake in working out they the length of the solar year. That tiny error led to a big mistake over the centuries.
By 1582 the calendar was "out" to the tune of 10 days. The shortest day in the calendar should be 21 December (the Winter Solstice); the longest day should be 21 June (Summer Solstice). However, because of the Romans' mistake the shortest day was now falling on 11 December. The days were already getting noticeably longer by 21 December. Pope Gregory XIII twigged and announced that the calendar should jump forward 10 days. They also did something technical to Leap Years to stop the error from occurring again*. Lovely job.
Now had naughty Martin Luther not started all that Reformation Jazz this could have been perfect. By 1582, however, the Pope's authority had been seriously challenged within Europe. The Northern Protestant nations viewed the new "Gregorian" calendar with a great deal of suspicion. Many ignored it - which led to horrible confusion in terms of determining on what date anything happened. The Eastern Orthodox Church also ignored it.
New Year's Day Moves Back to January
Although Pope Gregory did not expressly specify it, around the same time as the introduction of the new Gregorian calendar with its 10 day adjustment, many Catholic nations also moved New Year's Day from 25 March back to the Roman start of the year: 1 January. What's more, some Protestant Nations also did the same - but kept the Julian Calendar itself.
Shite, this is getting horribly complicated. Here's an example:
The Winter Solstice falls on 11 December 1599 in Scotland. Why? Because they're using the old Julian Calendar**. However, the still independent kingdom decides at this time to move New Year's Day away from 25 March and back to 1 January. The year 1600 therefore arrives in Scotland on 1 January. The same day, 1 January, is however still labelled 1599 in neighbouring England. New Year's Eve in England will be on 24 March and 1600 will not arrive until 25 March....
Let's hop on a hovercraft and go on a booze cruise to Calais. The Catholic French have adopted the Gregorian Calendar in full, as well as the move of New Year's Day to 1 January. Therefore if we make this trip on say the Spring Equinox, the exact same day is labelled in the following way:
It is literally a nightmare... And *now* who is complaining about EU standardisation, eh?
Riots on the Streets
The British Empire, of course, is (almost) the last of the lot to move to the new accurate Gregorian Calendar and (with the exception of Scotland) is ever conservative about leaving New Year on 25 March. Finally in 1752 Parliament makes the switch to both. By this time the error in the old Julian calendar was so great, instead of ten, a full eleven days had to be skipped.
Wednesday 2 September 1752 was followed by Thursday 14 September 1752. People felt their lives had been shortened by 11 days as a result of an Act of Parliament. There are literally riots on the streets.
It was still an election issue three years later in 1755. This Hogarth painting has a tiny blackboard in the front. When magnified the words read "Give us our 11 days". The change of calendar incidentally affected the whole of the British Empire, including the United States, which had not yet become revolting ;-)
Well, finally we're all there. Except the Eastern Orthodox Church, that is. Russia waits until the Bolshevik revolution of 1917 to move to the Gregorian calendar; the Greeks wait until 1923 and the Russian Orthodox Church is (somewhat unbelievably) still on the faulty Julian Calendar. This explains why their Christmas is celebrated so much later than ours. They are now a full 13 days slow, so for them 25 December falls on the day we now label 7 January. Don't make the mistake of thinking they celebrate Christ's birth on a different date: for them it *is* 25 December. They've just not got yet changed to the more accurate calendar.
The Tax Year: 5 April
Okay have you died yet? Nope? Then you need to know about this curious remnant of the Julian Calendar and New Year's falling on 25 March. When does the tax year in the UK begin? "6 April" you answer. Yes: and why? Well if you take 25 March as the old New Years day... and add on the eleven days' adjustment that were required in 1752 you end up with..... 6 April***. Ka-Boom.
It was felt that it was unfair on the Exchequer to shorten their tax revenue by 11 days when the calendar changed, so the tax year was left as it was, with the exception of the eleven day adjustment.
Her Majesty's Customs and Revenue are therefore still organising our tax years around the date the Virgin Mary became pregnant, with an adjustment for the miscalculation made by Julius Caesar. This is another example of a "New Year" starting mid-month of course. 5 April 2012 is in Tax Year 2011/12, while 6 April 2012 falls in the "New" Tax Year 2012/13.
Numbering the Months
There's one last curiosity to note. If we go all the way back to the ancient Calendar of Romulus, which was before 1 January was chosen as New Year's Day in BC153, and before the introduction of the Julian Calendar in BC45, you'll probably remember that we find March as the first month of the year.
March was named after Mars who was God of War and was second only to Jupiter in the Roman Godly hierarchy. Like March the months of April, May, June all had proper names. Then the Ancient Romans ran out of ideas. Accordingly:
I like it, though, and it is a reminder of where we began: New Year's Day is on 1 January, but originally, and for a very long time, New Year began in March. For HMRC it still kinda does.
Now have a drink and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
* Every year that is exactly divisible by four was to remain a leap year, except for years that are exactly divisible by 100; the centurial years that are exactly divisible by 400 would remain leap years. For example, the year 1900 is not a leap year (it is divisible by 100 but not 400); the year 2000 is a leap year (divisible by 400). You can see why I kept this as a foot note.
** There is a popular misconception that the Scots adopted the Gregorian Calendar in full on 1 January 1600. They remained on the Julian Calendar until 1752 along with the rest of the British Empire. All they did was move New Years Day to 1 January from 1600.
*** God, this is so technical. Add 11 days to 25 March and you have 5 April. The reason that the Tax Year begins 6 April is because 1800 is a centurial year that would have been a Leap Year under the Julian Calendar, but not under the Gregorian Calendar (it's not divisible by 400). The Exchequer went with the Julian rule, so it's therefore 12 days that are now added to 25 March to reach the Tax New Year. Right, I need a triple vodka.
However, it hasn't always been the case that 1 January was New Year's Day. For a very long time the New Year began in March. This actually isn't such a strange concept. The Chinese have their New Year's celebrations in February. Jewish New Year is in September.
A Year Has No Obvious Beginning
A year simply measures the length of time the Earth takes to do a complete rotation of the Sun: no one can say "this is the day it started", so there's no reason to choose January over any other time. In many ways New Year in March makes more sense: it's when Spring arrives and is the beginning of the natural year.
A year doesn't actually begin on ANY particular day |
Here Come the Christians!
Now enter the Christians. 1 January has absolutely no religious connotations for the Church. 25 December does - it is the somewhat randomly selected date for Christ's birthday. Yes, random: the Bible gives us no clue as to when Christ was born except to mention that the shepherds were tending their flocks. They almost certainly wouldn't have been out in winter doing so.
Sir Isaac Newton argued that the early Christians simply took over a pagan ceremony connected to the winter solstice, and that seems still to be the predominant theory. Most Christians say this doesn't matter: the point is to celebrate the coming to the world of Jesus.
The Christians didn't start New Year at Christ's birth though: they counted back a pregnancy of 9 months (Swiss-Judean precision!) to Lady Day: 25 March. This is Annunciation Day: when Mary received the Holy Spirit and became pregnant with Jesus. So there we have it. New Year in the Christian Calendar became 25 March.
Mildly Confusing
That's kinda mildly confusing though. We're used to the New Year starting nice and neatly at the start of a new month (e.g on 1 January). For centuries however the calendar went like this:
22 March 1499
23 March 1499
24 March 1499 (New Year's Eve)
25 March 1500 (New Year's Day)
26 March 1500
27 March 1500 etc.
There's a neat little example of the old Christian calendar in action in Salisbury Cathedral. Look hard and you'll find a tiny grave of a boy. In modern English his stone reads as follows: Here lies the Body of Thomas, Son of Thomas Lambert, Gentleman... Born May 13 1683, died February 9 of the same year.
(Many thanks to @murphy_maria for the pic) |
See how that is possible? Good. Poor little baby Thomas died in February of 1683 just short of nine months old, because New Year's Day 1684 didn't arrive until 25 March.
The Romans Made a Mistake
Still with me? Smashing. Now it gets a bit more confusing still. The Romans had introduced the calendar with 12 months in BC45 under Caesar. It is named the Julian Calendar (presumably because he had a favourite budgie called Julie. Or something). Anyway, the Romans were a clever bunch, but they made a tiny mistake in working out they the length of the solar year. That tiny error led to a big mistake over the centuries.
I think he might have noticed. Silly Romans. |
By 1582 the calendar was "out" to the tune of 10 days. The shortest day in the calendar should be 21 December (the Winter Solstice); the longest day should be 21 June (Summer Solstice). However, because of the Romans' mistake the shortest day was now falling on 11 December. The days were already getting noticeably longer by 21 December. Pope Gregory XIII twigged and announced that the calendar should jump forward 10 days. They also did something technical to Leap Years to stop the error from occurring again*. Lovely job.
Now had naughty Martin Luther not started all that Reformation Jazz this could have been perfect. By 1582, however, the Pope's authority had been seriously challenged within Europe. The Northern Protestant nations viewed the new "Gregorian" calendar with a great deal of suspicion. Many ignored it - which led to horrible confusion in terms of determining on what date anything happened. The Eastern Orthodox Church also ignored it.
New Year's Day Moves Back to January
Although Pope Gregory did not expressly specify it, around the same time as the introduction of the new Gregorian calendar with its 10 day adjustment, many Catholic nations also moved New Year's Day from 25 March back to the Roman start of the year: 1 January. What's more, some Protestant Nations also did the same - but kept the Julian Calendar itself.
Bit of a nightmare: European Calendars around 1600 |
Shite, this is getting horribly complicated. Here's an example:
The Winter Solstice falls on 11 December 1599 in Scotland. Why? Because they're using the old Julian Calendar**. However, the still independent kingdom decides at this time to move New Year's Day away from 25 March and back to 1 January. The year 1600 therefore arrives in Scotland on 1 January. The same day, 1 January, is however still labelled 1599 in neighbouring England. New Year's Eve in England will be on 24 March and 1600 will not arrive until 25 March....
Let's hop on a hovercraft and go on a booze cruise to Calais. The Catholic French have adopted the Gregorian Calendar in full, as well as the move of New Year's Day to 1 January. Therefore if we make this trip on say the Spring Equinox, the exact same day is labelled in the following way:
- 11 March 1600 in Scotland (Julian Calendar with New Year on 1 January)
- 11 March 1599 in England (Julian Calendar with New Year on 25 March)
- 21 March 1600 in France (Gregorian Calendar with New Year on 1 January)
It is literally a nightmare... And *now* who is complaining about EU standardisation, eh?
Riots on the Streets
The British Empire, of course, is (almost) the last of the lot to move to the new accurate Gregorian Calendar and (with the exception of Scotland) is ever conservative about leaving New Year on 25 March. Finally in 1752 Parliament makes the switch to both. By this time the error in the old Julian calendar was so great, instead of ten, a full eleven days had to be skipped.
Wednesday 2 September 1752 was followed by Thursday 14 September 1752. People felt their lives had been shortened by 11 days as a result of an Act of Parliament. There are literally riots on the streets.
The blackboard is centre front |
It was still an election issue three years later in 1755. This Hogarth painting has a tiny blackboard in the front. When magnified the words read "Give us our 11 days". The change of calendar incidentally affected the whole of the British Empire, including the United States, which had not yet become revolting ;-)
Well, finally we're all there. Except the Eastern Orthodox Church, that is. Russia waits until the Bolshevik revolution of 1917 to move to the Gregorian calendar; the Greeks wait until 1923 and the Russian Orthodox Church is (somewhat unbelievably) still on the faulty Julian Calendar. This explains why their Christmas is celebrated so much later than ours. They are now a full 13 days slow, so for them 25 December falls on the day we now label 7 January. Don't make the mistake of thinking they celebrate Christ's birth on a different date: for them it *is* 25 December. They've just not got yet changed to the more accurate calendar.
The Tax Year: 5 April
Okay have you died yet? Nope? Then you need to know about this curious remnant of the Julian Calendar and New Year's falling on 25 March. When does the tax year in the UK begin? "6 April" you answer. Yes: and why? Well if you take 25 March as the old New Years day... and add on the eleven days' adjustment that were required in 1752 you end up with..... 6 April***. Ka-Boom.
It was felt that it was unfair on the Exchequer to shorten their tax revenue by 11 days when the calendar changed, so the tax year was left as it was, with the exception of the eleven day adjustment.
Her Majesty's Customs and Revenue are therefore still organising our tax years around the date the Virgin Mary became pregnant, with an adjustment for the miscalculation made by Julius Caesar. This is another example of a "New Year" starting mid-month of course. 5 April 2012 is in Tax Year 2011/12, while 6 April 2012 falls in the "New" Tax Year 2012/13.
Numbering the Months
There's one last curiosity to note. If we go all the way back to the ancient Calendar of Romulus, which was before 1 January was chosen as New Year's Day in BC153, and before the introduction of the Julian Calendar in BC45, you'll probably remember that we find March as the first month of the year.
Mars: God of War |
March was named after Mars who was God of War and was second only to Jupiter in the Roman Godly hierarchy. Like March the months of April, May, June all had proper names. Then the Ancient Romans ran out of ideas. Accordingly:
- July was Quintilis (fifth month)
- August was Sextilis (sixth month)
- September was September (seven month)
I like it, though, and it is a reminder of where we began: New Year's Day is on 1 January, but originally, and for a very long time, New Year began in March. For HMRC it still kinda does.
Now have a drink and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
* Every year that is exactly divisible by four was to remain a leap year, except for years that are exactly divisible by 100; the centurial years that are exactly divisible by 400 would remain leap years. For example, the year 1900 is not a leap year (it is divisible by 100 but not 400); the year 2000 is a leap year (divisible by 400). You can see why I kept this as a foot note.
** There is a popular misconception that the Scots adopted the Gregorian Calendar in full on 1 January 1600. They remained on the Julian Calendar until 1752 along with the rest of the British Empire. All they did was move New Years Day to 1 January from 1600.
*** God, this is so technical. Add 11 days to 25 March and you have 5 April. The reason that the Tax Year begins 6 April is because 1800 is a centurial year that would have been a Leap Year under the Julian Calendar, but not under the Gregorian Calendar (it's not divisible by 400). The Exchequer went with the Julian rule, so it's therefore 12 days that are now added to 25 March to reach the Tax New Year. Right, I need a triple vodka.
Wednesday 28 December 2011
Rain scene
When i came home today, i looked out my window and saw this:
Rain on one side and clear skies on the other....
After a few more minutes, the rain subsided...
Its not everyday i get to see that. Its like a tale of two cities...
Rain on one side and clear skies on the other....
After a few more minutes, the rain subsided...
Its not everyday i get to see that. Its like a tale of two cities...
Tuesday 27 December 2011
Monday 26 December 2011
People
A few months back I did a little spot on Rob Dunger's BBC Suffolk Sunday breakfast show - oh yes, my moment of fame! I trundled down there for 7am and talked about blogging and Twitter, as well as did a newspaper review. I really enjoyed the whole experience - which wrapped up with a thought for the day.
I'm not religious so the "thought for the day" was a bit challenging. I decided to tie things in with what I'd talked about previously: Twitter. Let's face it, if there's anything I can waffle on ad nauseam, it's that. Below is an extended version of what I said.
My Thoughts on People
We live in our own little circle of friends, colleagues and family. Most of us will know perhaps a hundred people tops. The bulk of these will be superficial contacts: we might know anywhere from a handful to a couple of dozen quite well. Broadly speaking we will have quite favourable impressions of most of these. If you think of the people you know, I think most people would say they are anywhere from "okay" to "really quite nice".
Few of us know lots of people who are actually horrendous: there might be someone we dislike, perhaps even strongly; but on the whole the bulk of people most of us know are quite pleasant. I don't think too many of us know many people who we would categorise as actually dangerous, nasty or evil.
Despite this fact, we live in a world where we are taught to be cynical, suspicious and to fear. Although our own direct personal experience of other people we've met is broadly positive, most of us, I believe, subscribe to the view that anyone else "out there" whom we don't know is to be viewed with anything from mild suspicion, through cynicism, to outright hostility.
This view of the world is particularly reinforced by the media. Of course bad news sells: we gorge ourselves daily on stories of stabbings, con-artists, mini cab drivers who rape, the odd high profile murder etc. Even the day-to-day stories are pretty grim and pessimistic. We're thrown the odd scrap of a happy story, but you have to have to look for it amongst the onslaught of misery and depression. There have been a few attempts at "good news" newspapers: they invariably fall flat on their arses. No one is interested: we somehow want/need the daily dose of fear and worry. It is of course epitomised by the Daily Mail/ Fail/ Wail. It is really no small surprise, if as a result, we have the impression that the world is a horrible place and in particular that people are basically pretty shit.
However, in fact - I would contend - as you drive through a town, each and every house or flat will in fact be populated by someone remarkably similar to you and to your circle. The problem is we can't ever know this without knocking on their doors, going in, meeting them and having a cup of tea with them. They wouldn't of course let us in to their homes to do so, because we're a stranger, and as we know strangers are to be feared because they're potential nut-cases / robbers/ murderers etc. So we continue to live in our world where our circle is okay and everyone else is almost certainly not. How can my contention be proven?
Twitter offers an E-Cup of Tea
Enter Twitter, stage right. Twitter is people. It is simply a medium where people - for the most part complete strangers - come together. If you are a user of Twitter who has got to know people you didn't previously, ask yourself what your impression is of those you have encountered and got to know? I follow 1100 people on Twitter and speak regularly to hundreds. The medium offers me a snap shot into the lives of all sorts of people I would not otherwise come into contact with: in effect I am knocking on doors and having that e-cup of tea.
Some of these people are from a background I encounter anyway in my regular life; many are not. Twitter has shown me, for example, that people with whom I might have wildly differing political views, are not inherently "bad" people. I have developed a great deal of affection for one quite right wing woman who I only viewed as a "troll" at first. Yes, politically we could argue until the sun comes up, but I wouldn't hesitate to have her over for dinner, or a drink, and I know she is a really humane, decent person - as differing as our views are.
It's very human to dislike people in the "other team". We're incredibly tribal. When you're face to face, however, with someone from that other tribe (and can stop yourself from taking a dogmatic position) it is incredibly revealing. I don't tend to argue politics on Twitter any more: they won't change my mind and I won't change theirs: what it does is just lead to the reinforcement of stereotypes and hostility. When the British and German soldiers met in the trenches on Christmas Day 1914 to play soccer, they weren't arguing whose foreign policy was correct. They met as human beings - no longer faceless ones - and it was precisely for that reason that this was considered so dangerous by the High Commands. When you realise your combatant is a person rather like you - with a mother, a family, friends and a life - and not a faceless monster, you're not so keen to blow them into the next life.
Obviously Twitter isn't about killing each other. But it can be about exposing yourself to a broad range of people and if you're open to doing so, this can be extremely instructive. I talk to Christians: many gay people view them with a default setting of absolute hostility. I don't share their religious beliefs and sometimes their moral views, but I can tell you I really have forged some friendships here and have a lot of respect for people I didn't think I would. I talk to Muslims, to policemen, to housewives, to mothers, to 16 year olds, to taxi drivers, to theatre directors, to students, to QCs, to republicans, to nationalists, to Libertarians and to Marxists. The range of people you can access and get to know on Twitter is breathtaking.
What I've Learned
What I have come to realise is that Twitter can give us a very real insight into humanity. It literally does open doors that wouldn't otherwise be open. We can't in real life gain access to people's homes and lives, but on Twitter people are remarkably willing to share their thoughts, experiences, concerns and feelings. It teaches much more about all those people we don't know than picking up and reading a newspaper or watching a movie can.
And what are my impressions? Well I believe my contention is correct. Put simply, I am repeatedly overwhelmed by the simple warmth, kindness, goodness of almost everyone I encounter. People are good. They care for one another. They want to form friendships and have support networks. They enjoy laughing, socialising and sharing. This is not the Daily Fail vision of humanity. It is not the world of headlines of murderers, thieves and rapists. It is something much more mundane, but something so much better.
Yes, there's the odd bad apple (see previous blogs!) but they are in such a minority. I've tweeted well over 50,000 times: the number of falling outs and "nastiness" is perhaps 0.05% of that total. I always try to bear this in mind. If my sample on Twitter is broadly representative of people "out there" - which it must be - my conclusion is that the world is simply a much better place than we are led to believe... and tend to believe ourselves.
Thank you Twitter, and thank you all the people I talk to on it.
I'm not religious so the "thought for the day" was a bit challenging. I decided to tie things in with what I'd talked about previously: Twitter. Let's face it, if there's anything I can waffle on ad nauseam, it's that. Below is an extended version of what I said.
My Thoughts on People
We live in our own little circle of friends, colleagues and family. Most of us will know perhaps a hundred people tops. The bulk of these will be superficial contacts: we might know anywhere from a handful to a couple of dozen quite well. Broadly speaking we will have quite favourable impressions of most of these. If you think of the people you know, I think most people would say they are anywhere from "okay" to "really quite nice".
Few of us know lots of people who are actually horrendous: there might be someone we dislike, perhaps even strongly; but on the whole the bulk of people most of us know are quite pleasant. I don't think too many of us know many people who we would categorise as actually dangerous, nasty or evil.
Despite this fact, we live in a world where we are taught to be cynical, suspicious and to fear. Although our own direct personal experience of other people we've met is broadly positive, most of us, I believe, subscribe to the view that anyone else "out there" whom we don't know is to be viewed with anything from mild suspicion, through cynicism, to outright hostility.
However, in fact - I would contend - as you drive through a town, each and every house or flat will in fact be populated by someone remarkably similar to you and to your circle. The problem is we can't ever know this without knocking on their doors, going in, meeting them and having a cup of tea with them. They wouldn't of course let us in to their homes to do so, because we're a stranger, and as we know strangers are to be feared because they're potential nut-cases / robbers/ murderers etc. So we continue to live in our world where our circle is okay and everyone else is almost certainly not. How can my contention be proven?
Twitter offers an E-Cup of Tea
Enter Twitter, stage right. Twitter is people. It is simply a medium where people - for the most part complete strangers - come together. If you are a user of Twitter who has got to know people you didn't previously, ask yourself what your impression is of those you have encountered and got to know? I follow 1100 people on Twitter and speak regularly to hundreds. The medium offers me a snap shot into the lives of all sorts of people I would not otherwise come into contact with: in effect I am knocking on doors and having that e-cup of tea.
Some of these people are from a background I encounter anyway in my regular life; many are not. Twitter has shown me, for example, that people with whom I might have wildly differing political views, are not inherently "bad" people. I have developed a great deal of affection for one quite right wing woman who I only viewed as a "troll" at first. Yes, politically we could argue until the sun comes up, but I wouldn't hesitate to have her over for dinner, or a drink, and I know she is a really humane, decent person - as differing as our views are.
It's very human to dislike people in the "other team". We're incredibly tribal. When you're face to face, however, with someone from that other tribe (and can stop yourself from taking a dogmatic position) it is incredibly revealing. I don't tend to argue politics on Twitter any more: they won't change my mind and I won't change theirs: what it does is just lead to the reinforcement of stereotypes and hostility. When the British and German soldiers met in the trenches on Christmas Day 1914 to play soccer, they weren't arguing whose foreign policy was correct. They met as human beings - no longer faceless ones - and it was precisely for that reason that this was considered so dangerous by the High Commands. When you realise your combatant is a person rather like you - with a mother, a family, friends and a life - and not a faceless monster, you're not so keen to blow them into the next life.
The Trenches, Christmas 1914 |
Obviously Twitter isn't about killing each other. But it can be about exposing yourself to a broad range of people and if you're open to doing so, this can be extremely instructive. I talk to Christians: many gay people view them with a default setting of absolute hostility. I don't share their religious beliefs and sometimes their moral views, but I can tell you I really have forged some friendships here and have a lot of respect for people I didn't think I would. I talk to Muslims, to policemen, to housewives, to mothers, to 16 year olds, to taxi drivers, to theatre directors, to students, to QCs, to republicans, to nationalists, to Libertarians and to Marxists. The range of people you can access and get to know on Twitter is breathtaking.
What I've Learned
What I have come to realise is that Twitter can give us a very real insight into humanity. It literally does open doors that wouldn't otherwise be open. We can't in real life gain access to people's homes and lives, but on Twitter people are remarkably willing to share their thoughts, experiences, concerns and feelings. It teaches much more about all those people we don't know than picking up and reading a newspaper or watching a movie can.
And what are my impressions? Well I believe my contention is correct. Put simply, I am repeatedly overwhelmed by the simple warmth, kindness, goodness of almost everyone I encounter. People are good. They care for one another. They want to form friendships and have support networks. They enjoy laughing, socialising and sharing. This is not the Daily Fail vision of humanity. It is not the world of headlines of murderers, thieves and rapists. It is something much more mundane, but something so much better.
Yes, there's the odd bad apple (see previous blogs!) but they are in such a minority. I've tweeted well over 50,000 times: the number of falling outs and "nastiness" is perhaps 0.05% of that total. I always try to bear this in mind. If my sample on Twitter is broadly representative of people "out there" - which it must be - my conclusion is that the world is simply a much better place than we are led to believe... and tend to believe ourselves.
Thank you Twitter, and thank you all the people I talk to on it.
Can't help ending on this diamond ;-) |
Saturday 24 December 2011
Preoccupied
A switch in my head just clicked and i realised how preoccupied i was with one thing and completely neglected things i used to enjoy doing, like taking pictures...
Sometimes focussing on only one thing brings dire consequences. Maybe it was the interest and the desire to make it work, blossom and bloom. But, after months, dissapointment still seeps through, dejected, the feeling of not being stable, just brings me down. The hype is dwindling.
I look back at the past few months, yes, i was preoccupied. Silly me to put aside everything that was me. I'm slowly bringing myself back while that one distraction fades away.
CNY is coming!!! I am happy to see many people smiling while chomping on my homemade peanut cookies.. It is peanuty and melts in your mouth!
Sometimes focussing on only one thing brings dire consequences. Maybe it was the interest and the desire to make it work, blossom and bloom. But, after months, dissapointment still seeps through, dejected, the feeling of not being stable, just brings me down. The hype is dwindling.
I look back at the past few months, yes, i was preoccupied. Silly me to put aside everything that was me. I'm slowly bringing myself back while that one distraction fades away.
CNY is coming!!! I am happy to see many people smiling while chomping on my homemade peanut cookies.. It is peanuty and melts in your mouth!
Friday 16 December 2011
Munich
I've done a "travel guide" before, but hey here goes. I'd like to tell you about my favourite city perhaps anywhere: Munich. I'm off there again on 1 January and it's the single city I probably visit most outside the UK.
First Experiences: Munich is Shite!
The first time I visited Munich I thought it was absolutely shit. I'd been inter-railing with my friend Nick in the summer of 1990: we were 19. After a full four weeks travelling around, three days in post-revolution Bucharest with nothing to buy except watermelons, bread and clothes pegs (the latter aren't that edible) had left us in quite a state. We caught the Istanbul Express from Belgrade to Munich overnight and slept in the corridor. I remember people stepping over my head, smoking all night long, and had the delights of waking up with the side of my face stuck to the floor as I'd rolled off my camping mat.
We got off at Munich Hauptbahnhof, put our least stinking clothes on, washed up a bit, and bought as much food as we could afford from a department store supermarket. I remember what then happened so clearly: I even know the place we were sitting devouring our rolls with processed sliced cheese, when an old man came up. He asked in German where we were from. I assumed he was begging and trying to get some food from us. I wasn't concentrating (there's a distinction between "kommen von" and "kommen aus" in German) and answered that we came from "Romania".
The lovely old Bavarian clearly thought we were starving Eastern Europeans and offered us the groceries he'd just bought. I was mortified and swiftly explained we'd *come* from Romania, but were English and had plenty of Deutsche Mark to buy ourselves some more processed cheese if we wanted it! Bless him, I felt awful for the way I'd dismissed this kindly generous guy out of hand.
The rest of the day was spent wandering round the main shopping street, missing all the sights, and catching a night train on to Paris. We probably bought some more rolls and cheese to fortify us through the night. That was Munich.
Munich: Let's Try Again
I then returned with a group of young Americans whom I was leading around Europe. We had a coach tour of the city with a local guide. I couldn't believe what I was seeing: we literally had missed everything. The city was beautiful: full of stunning architecture, beautiful green spaces, art galleries, history, markets and restaurants. It is classy as anything. The Munich people love to say it is an Italian city north of the Alps. Frankly, that's crap. I know Italy, and love Italy, and whilst elements of the Ludwigstrasse definitely have echos of Florence (quite deliberately) this is very much a German city in terms of architecture, cleanliness and "Ordnung".
The people of the city may also be referring to the "laid back" attitude in the city. Again *ahem*. It is a little more chilled than say Hamburg, but far less so than scrappy-anything-goes Berlin. It is an efficient, clean, polished city of 1.4 million people with an incredibly high local GDP. Yes, people guzzle Bier and will happily sit round being sociable after work, but a city this wealthy did not come from a lot of hard work. Get on the U-Bahn at 7am and you'll see everyone on their way to work at Siemens, BMW, the publishing houses (it's second only to New York in terms of numbers), or the many insurance and reinsurance companies.
Schickie Mickies
The city is not just wealthy, it is by any standards a very egalitarian city. The unemployment level is around 4% and everyone seems well off. You see yuppies in their BMW cabrios (the so called "Schickie Mickies") everywhere and well dressed students (over 100,000 young Germans study here for €500 a semester fees) but remarkably few homeless. The city has been ruled by a Social Democrat/ Green Coalition for years. Massive amounts are invested in excellent, reliable public transport: fab retro teak lined subway trains from the late 60s and their gleaming brand new air-conditioned designer counterparts. You can ride 8km from one side of the city to the other, without touching a road once, on the network of cycle paths. And yes, both young and old people DO wear Lederhosen and Dirndls not for fancy dress (more later).
You just get the sense of a very cohesive, comfortable, well off group of inhabitants. There are stacks of art galleries (the Alte Pinakothek is magnificent), 4 symphony orchestras, loads of museums - it is an extremely cultural city. Munich is supremely bourgeois, but in a sharp, trendy, "right on" way. The city is hugely gay-friendly, has almost 25% non-German population and its Jewish population is apparently back up to 1933 levels. The newly opened main synagogue in the centre of town is a testament to this: the six smaller ones were packed to overflowing, so a magnificent new one was opened on 9 November 2006.
You also feel you're in a young city: there are so many youthful faces everywhere. The city is very liberal: in the summer people go to the city park (the "English Garden") and strip off over lunchtime and nude sunbathe. It's not pervy or weird: you'll see a mother having her picnic with her kids and a young couple nude sunbathing right next door. You'll also see the SURFERS all year round just close by. These dudes (and dudesses) can be seen all year round (wet suits in winter) surfing on some serious waves close to the US Consulate. The story goes that a GI from Hawaii stationed here after WW2 discovered the spot, but that is of course probably utter rubbish. In any case, I highly recommend stopping here, at the entrance to the English Garden and watching them do their stuff.
The English Garden of course also houses Bier Gardens: they are all over the city and provide a "sitting room" for people with apartments to go and meet and be sociable. Apparently the average Bavarian drinks 46.5 gallons of beer per year. It is called "liquid bread" and covered by the oldest food purity law in the world. It is fooking lovely. Just watch the Wheat Beer: it packs a headache and hangover like none other. I'll only ever have one and then move to the regular Light or Dark Beer.
There are six big Munich breweries, all located within the city limits, as they have to be to take part in the Oktoberfest. In 1810 the Crown Prince got married and they had a huge party to celebrate. The people of Munich liked it so much they did it again in 1811 and have been doing so (with a couple of war related/ hyper inflation related interruptions) ever since. It begins in late September (one year it snowed in October, so they moved it forward), lasts 16 days and is the world's biggest beer drinking festival. The atmosphere is amazing: the whole city stops for 16 days as over 6 million visitors come to join in, visit the massive beer tents, drink several million pints of beer, and have fun.
People are merry, but not obnoxiously drunk. There are crazily fast fairground rides too - just what you want after drinking a few litre glasses of beer. I've been once: the gay tent was *incredible* - drunken Bavarian boys in Lederhosen up on the tables at 10am, with their shirts open, wearing cute little neckerchiefs, singing and locking arms. Wow. Just, erm, wow. If you want to go to Oktoberfest, be aware hotel prices are literally doubled and rooms sell out 6 months in advance. Ideally you should book no later than now (December 2011) for October 2012. The Oktoberfest brings a staggering €830 million into the local economy.
Munich of course has not always been the cosmopolitan fun place it now is. I read a description of the city in the winter of 1933 by that outstanding and sadly recently deceased travel writer, Patrick Leigh Fermor that sent shudders down my spine. It was the City of the Nazis: the "Brown City" (as opposed to the socialist stronghold of Berlin, the "Red City"). When Hitler arrived from Vienna he declared "Finally, a German City!". Vienna was much too international for his tastes. The old main synagogue in Munich was destroyed in June 1938, 5 months before the other German cities "did their bit". There are traces of the Nazi past all over the place: amazing fascist buildings that mysteriously all missed the Allied carpet bombing raids (6600 civilians died here, as opposed to 568 in Coventry). Around 75% of the city was destroyed, but the main buildings were later beautifully reconstructed, unlike in other German cities.
I could write on and on about the history of the place, before, during and after the Nazi period (the 1972 Olympics are fascinating: private sponsorship was *banned* and the city and state paid for everything) but I think I'd probably send you to sleep :( If you're into this stuff though, the city is a treasure trove of places to look up and is steeped in history.
Some Top Tips
Okay now it's time for some top tips of places to go if this has whetted your appetite to visit. My favourite hotel is a gorgeous little designer boutique place close to the historic area around the Hofbräuhaus. It is called Hotel Cortiina and is just loooooovely (click for link). It runs in at about €250 a night, so is not exactly cheap... if you want somewhere stylish, cheaper, and a little further out but in a beautiful quiet street, try Motel One (Deutsches Museum). It's around €85 for a double room, has an über-trendy bar and is still a design hotel despite the name.
My top meal recommendations are Sunday brunch at the Park Café (a former SS hangout and now mega trendy contemporary beer hall and jazz venue close to the Hauptbahnhof - the type of place the girls from Sex and the City would come to)... and a high end pizza restaurant called Riva Tal. The staff are just erm... well very decorative... and the food is literally better than any pizza I've ever had in Italy. If you really want to eat hearty Bavarian crap, there's plenty of it, and I guess I should recommend Weisswurst (apparently delicious white veal sausage, eaten only ever before 12 noon) - but as a veggie I'm just not going to. So suck it up.
In terms of sightseeing, the thing about Munich is it's quite small: 1.4 million inhabitants is not a lot and there aren't hundreds of big "sights" to see as in Paris or London. I love it precisely because the centre is so walkable. I can just stroll about, eat, drink, soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the place. I do enjoy the Residenz (the former Royal Bavarian Winter Palace in the centre of town), the Olympic Park is well worth a visit out to on the U-Bahn, and while you're there most definitely go to BMW World. It is free and even if you're not into cars, the architecture will blow you mind. It apparently cost half a billion Euro to build and they have old and new BMW cars and motorbikes to play about with.
Make sure you also visit the Viktualienmarkt (the main food and flower market) and Dallmayr, a grocery store that is smaller, but I think a lot classier than the Harrod's Food Hall. Maximilianstrasse has the best shopping in town, along with the department store Oberpollinger which can give Harvey Nicks, a run for its money, dahling. Check out the Veuve Cliquot bar there. A totally zany recommendation is Wiesn Tracht which is run by a mad old Bavarian queen, his cohort of gorgeous girls, and sells Lederhosen and Dirndls. They will serve you champagne free of charge if you hang round long enough admiring the checked shirts. I go here *every* time I'm in Munich and buy something :)
Rounding Up
Okay, so I hope I've given you a litte taste of Munich? I've done a lot of travel. I adore it. I've been to a total of 63 countries around the world on 5 continents on my own travels. I've taken my groups of Americans to 178 towns & cities in 18 countries across Europe (yup, I keep an OCD style list).
I'm often asked what my favourite place is. It's really hard to answer: doesn't it depend what for? Of course I have places I love for nature, for beauty, for excitement, for relaxation... But of cities where I would chose to spend a weekend or even a week - or where I would consider having an apartment - three stand out for me: Amsterdam, Zurich and Munich. Of these three (I've lived in the first two) Munich is my all-time favourite.
If you haven't been, Oscar says you don't know what you're missing out on. Even *he* has been to Munich with me.
First Experiences: Munich is Shite!
The first time I visited Munich I thought it was absolutely shit. I'd been inter-railing with my friend Nick in the summer of 1990: we were 19. After a full four weeks travelling around, three days in post-revolution Bucharest with nothing to buy except watermelons, bread and clothes pegs (the latter aren't that edible) had left us in quite a state. We caught the Istanbul Express from Belgrade to Munich overnight and slept in the corridor. I remember people stepping over my head, smoking all night long, and had the delights of waking up with the side of my face stuck to the floor as I'd rolled off my camping mat.
We got off at Munich Hauptbahnhof, put our least stinking clothes on, washed up a bit, and bought as much food as we could afford from a department store supermarket. I remember what then happened so clearly: I even know the place we were sitting devouring our rolls with processed sliced cheese, when an old man came up. He asked in German where we were from. I assumed he was begging and trying to get some food from us. I wasn't concentrating (there's a distinction between "kommen von" and "kommen aus" in German) and answered that we came from "Romania".
The lovely old Bavarian clearly thought we were starving Eastern Europeans and offered us the groceries he'd just bought. I was mortified and swiftly explained we'd *come* from Romania, but were English and had plenty of Deutsche Mark to buy ourselves some more processed cheese if we wanted it! Bless him, I felt awful for the way I'd dismissed this kindly generous guy out of hand.
The rest of the day was spent wandering round the main shopping street, missing all the sights, and catching a night train on to Paris. We probably bought some more rolls and cheese to fortify us through the night. That was Munich.
Munich: Let's Try Again
I then returned with a group of young Americans whom I was leading around Europe. We had a coach tour of the city with a local guide. I couldn't believe what I was seeing: we literally had missed everything. The city was beautiful: full of stunning architecture, beautiful green spaces, art galleries, history, markets and restaurants. It is classy as anything. The Munich people love to say it is an Italian city north of the Alps. Frankly, that's crap. I know Italy, and love Italy, and whilst elements of the Ludwigstrasse definitely have echos of Florence (quite deliberately) this is very much a German city in terms of architecture, cleanliness and "Ordnung".
The Italianate "Ludwigstrasse" with Alps behind |
Schickie Mickies
The city is not just wealthy, it is by any standards a very egalitarian city. The unemployment level is around 4% and everyone seems well off. You see yuppies in their BMW cabrios (the so called "Schickie Mickies") everywhere and well dressed students (over 100,000 young Germans study here for €500 a semester fees) but remarkably few homeless. The city has been ruled by a Social Democrat/ Green Coalition for years. Massive amounts are invested in excellent, reliable public transport: fab retro teak lined subway trains from the late 60s and their gleaming brand new air-conditioned designer counterparts. You can ride 8km from one side of the city to the other, without touching a road once, on the network of cycle paths. And yes, both young and old people DO wear Lederhosen and Dirndls not for fancy dress (more later).
Oh, ze Lederhosen. Mein Gott. |
You just get the sense of a very cohesive, comfortable, well off group of inhabitants. There are stacks of art galleries (the Alte Pinakothek is magnificent), 4 symphony orchestras, loads of museums - it is an extremely cultural city. Munich is supremely bourgeois, but in a sharp, trendy, "right on" way. The city is hugely gay-friendly, has almost 25% non-German population and its Jewish population is apparently back up to 1933 levels. The newly opened main synagogue in the centre of town is a testament to this: the six smaller ones were packed to overflowing, so a magnificent new one was opened on 9 November 2006.
The New Munich Synagogue |
You also feel you're in a young city: there are so many youthful faces everywhere. The city is very liberal: in the summer people go to the city park (the "English Garden") and strip off over lunchtime and nude sunbathe. It's not pervy or weird: you'll see a mother having her picnic with her kids and a young couple nude sunbathing right next door. You'll also see the SURFERS all year round just close by. These dudes (and dudesses) can be seen all year round (wet suits in winter) surfing on some serious waves close to the US Consulate. The story goes that a GI from Hawaii stationed here after WW2 discovered the spot, but that is of course probably utter rubbish. In any case, I highly recommend stopping here, at the entrance to the English Garden and watching them do their stuff.
Bavarian Surfer Boys (*Skreeeem*) |
The English Garden of course also houses Bier Gardens: they are all over the city and provide a "sitting room" for people with apartments to go and meet and be sociable. Apparently the average Bavarian drinks 46.5 gallons of beer per year. It is called "liquid bread" and covered by the oldest food purity law in the world. It is fooking lovely. Just watch the Wheat Beer: it packs a headache and hangover like none other. I'll only ever have one and then move to the regular Light or Dark Beer.
There are six big Munich breweries, all located within the city limits, as they have to be to take part in the Oktoberfest. In 1810 the Crown Prince got married and they had a huge party to celebrate. The people of Munich liked it so much they did it again in 1811 and have been doing so (with a couple of war related/ hyper inflation related interruptions) ever since. It begins in late September (one year it snowed in October, so they moved it forward), lasts 16 days and is the world's biggest beer drinking festival. The atmosphere is amazing: the whole city stops for 16 days as over 6 million visitors come to join in, visit the massive beer tents, drink several million pints of beer, and have fun.
An outstanding Bavarian Balcony |
Munich of course has not always been the cosmopolitan fun place it now is. I read a description of the city in the winter of 1933 by that outstanding and sadly recently deceased travel writer, Patrick Leigh Fermor that sent shudders down my spine. It was the City of the Nazis: the "Brown City" (as opposed to the socialist stronghold of Berlin, the "Red City"). When Hitler arrived from Vienna he declared "Finally, a German City!". Vienna was much too international for his tastes. The old main synagogue in Munich was destroyed in June 1938, 5 months before the other German cities "did their bit". There are traces of the Nazi past all over the place: amazing fascist buildings that mysteriously all missed the Allied carpet bombing raids (6600 civilians died here, as opposed to 568 in Coventry). Around 75% of the city was destroyed, but the main buildings were later beautifully reconstructed, unlike in other German cities.
"Führerbau": where Chamberlain signed Munich Agreement |
I could write on and on about the history of the place, before, during and after the Nazi period (the 1972 Olympics are fascinating: private sponsorship was *banned* and the city and state paid for everything) but I think I'd probably send you to sleep :( If you're into this stuff though, the city is a treasure trove of places to look up and is steeped in history.
Some Top Tips
Okay now it's time for some top tips of places to go if this has whetted your appetite to visit. My favourite hotel is a gorgeous little designer boutique place close to the historic area around the Hofbräuhaus. It is called Hotel Cortiina and is just loooooovely (click for link). It runs in at about €250 a night, so is not exactly cheap... if you want somewhere stylish, cheaper, and a little further out but in a beautiful quiet street, try Motel One (Deutsches Museum). It's around €85 for a double room, has an über-trendy bar and is still a design hotel despite the name.
My top meal recommendations are Sunday brunch at the Park Café (a former SS hangout and now mega trendy contemporary beer hall and jazz venue close to the Hauptbahnhof - the type of place the girls from Sex and the City would come to)... and a high end pizza restaurant called Riva Tal. The staff are just erm... well very decorative... and the food is literally better than any pizza I've ever had in Italy. If you really want to eat hearty Bavarian crap, there's plenty of it, and I guess I should recommend Weisswurst (apparently delicious white veal sausage, eaten only ever before 12 noon) - but as a veggie I'm just not going to. So suck it up.
In terms of sightseeing, the thing about Munich is it's quite small: 1.4 million inhabitants is not a lot and there aren't hundreds of big "sights" to see as in Paris or London. I love it precisely because the centre is so walkable. I can just stroll about, eat, drink, soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the place. I do enjoy the Residenz (the former Royal Bavarian Winter Palace in the centre of town), the Olympic Park is well worth a visit out to on the U-Bahn, and while you're there most definitely go to BMW World. It is free and even if you're not into cars, the architecture will blow you mind. It apparently cost half a billion Euro to build and they have old and new BMW cars and motorbikes to play about with.
BMW World with Olympic Tower/ Park behind |
Make sure you also visit the Viktualienmarkt (the main food and flower market) and Dallmayr, a grocery store that is smaller, but I think a lot classier than the Harrod's Food Hall. Maximilianstrasse has the best shopping in town, along with the department store Oberpollinger which can give Harvey Nicks, a run for its money, dahling. Check out the Veuve Cliquot bar there. A totally zany recommendation is Wiesn Tracht which is run by a mad old Bavarian queen, his cohort of gorgeous girls, and sells Lederhosen and Dirndls. They will serve you champagne free of charge if you hang round long enough admiring the checked shirts. I go here *every* time I'm in Munich and buy something :)
The *actual* staff of Wiesn Tracht |
Rounding Up
Okay, so I hope I've given you a litte taste of Munich? I've done a lot of travel. I adore it. I've been to a total of 63 countries around the world on 5 continents on my own travels. I've taken my groups of Americans to 178 towns & cities in 18 countries across Europe (yup, I keep an OCD style list).
I'm often asked what my favourite place is. It's really hard to answer: doesn't it depend what for? Of course I have places I love for nature, for beauty, for excitement, for relaxation... But of cities where I would chose to spend a weekend or even a week - or where I would consider having an apartment - three stand out for me: Amsterdam, Zurich and Munich. Of these three (I've lived in the first two) Munich is my all-time favourite.
If you haven't been, Oscar says you don't know what you're missing out on. Even *he* has been to Munich with me.
@LassieOscar on tour in Bavaria |
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