Epiblog

So that's the end of my year on mainland Europe. I'm back on the island. Not much to say, except that all things considered, it was a fantastic year. I spent the last few weeks first with Jacopo in Merano, then with Jenny in Munich and Berlin. Finally, Dan came with me to Genova to hang out for a bit while I closed my bank account and took care of other matters. He also generously leant me his baggage allowance so I could get all my stuff home. There are a few pictures from that trip here.

I really enjoyed my time in Italy. It's a country which seems quite comfortable to conform to its stereotype, i.e. very beautiful and permanently in chaos. It was good to get back to Germany for a few days at the end too. I can definitively say, after hard, dedicated research in 10 European countries this year, that the Germans produce the finest beer in Europe. Or possibly the Belgians..

And that's the end of the blog. Thanks for reading, get in touch soon.

G
x

Am in a dodgy web cafe in Munich, waiting for Jenny and her friends to arrive. Had a great time in Merano with Jacopo. It's a lovely town. We went to the races, climbed a mountain and hung around the city. A few pictures.

Spent today looking round the Englischer Garten. Hard work - it's almost 375 hectares. It's also full of Biergartens. The beer is just as good as I remember it. Yesterday, I had pork liver and roast potatoes and salad at the Dürnbräu.

Packing. It sucks.

This morning I got this photo from Ignacio, showing him, Edu and Chema and a bunch of other guys finally winning the Flynn's Inn pub quiz in Karlsruhe. Looks like a great moment, shame I wasn't there to see it. Good work!

Went to Torino last night to watch Palace play Chelsea on TV. We lost 2-0. We need, in my estimation, about 3 more very good players to have any chance of staying up. Good to see the new signings anyway. I have lots to do now as I'm leaving very soon, so I couldn't stay around in Torino which is a shame. It's a good city. Good to see Andrea and Carlo again.

On Saturday, I'm off to Verona to meet up with Jacopo and then go to his parent's place in the mountains near the Austrian border.

Some photos from Jenny's visit.

My sister Jenny has been here the last few days. On Thursday we went to Bonassola, a little beach resort a little way down the coast. It was busy but a good place to swim. The water gets deep very quickly, so you can just run in and dive. The water is very warm now.

We ate that night in a traditional Genovese restaurant, just off Corso Torino. It was small and family run and you could see the cooking going on in the kitchen. There was the proprietor, his wife and his mother. The food was extremely good, I had fresh pasta in a sauce of broccoli, oil and chili, and Jenny had a vegetable soup. The soup was very special. I guess the vegetables were very fresh. In the kitchen, we could see one of the women sawing away with a mezzaluna at a huge pile of them. For second course, we both had fish. Together with a bottle of rosé from Puglia, it was a very fine meal.

We visited the Aquarium on Friday. It's Genova's biggest tourist attraction and was rammed. The fish were great but the other people inside, banging on the glass and shoving in front of each other, nearly drove me crazy. It was also sad to see big animals like dolphins and penguins in small tanks.

That night we went down to the Corso D'Italia to take in a few seafront bars. The weather is just starting to freshen up, but it's still warm enough to go out right by the sea.

Yesterday we went to Nervi. Jenny had a good seafood salad, and in the park afterwards, we found two four leaf clovers. I have one in my wallet now. Nothing exceptionally fortunate seems to have happened yet, but I did get the last copy of the Gazzetta dello Sport from the newsagent this morning.

I've just come into the lab to watch the 100m final. At the moment, in these Olympics, Italy and Britain have almost exactly the same number of medals, 6 golds and 20 in total. This seems fair enough - the populations are about the same size. However, the Italian press are delighted with the performance, while the British press are moaning as usual..

A lot more exciting than my weblog is this one, which is being kept by a guy competing for Equatorial Guinea in the olympics, in the shadow of the great Eric 'the Eel' Moussambani.

"I feel like unless I go out there and do something ridiculous, like win or come last with my shorts around my ankles, I'm not going to get any slack cut for me.

Genova is not a bad place for recycling. Despite the shortage of parking spaces, there are recycling bins for paper, glass, plastics and cans kerbside all over the city. Even more than there were in Karlsruhe, though there most of your recyclable stuff was collected from your door. In Milan, you even have to pay per kilo for non-recyclable rubbish, which is a great way to get people to think before they chuck things out.

The impression I've formed after 11 months is that the UK is a filthy pit of thoughtless consumption and waste. It's pretty bad where I live in south London, where we have to walk about 5 minutes to get to a recycling site, and most people would have to go further. But Edinburgh really is incredibly bad. There's one tiny set of bins in the middle of the city where you can recycle plastic, and a few other bins for glass, but that's your lot. People throw out huge amounts of glass, plastic, paper. Urgh. And people in the UK like to think that Italy is a bit backwards.

This Sunday was the big summer holiday, the city was very quiet and I spent most of the day sitting on the beach at Quinto. Then I watched some olympic highlights on the BBC website. The Italians won two gold medals on the first day, in cycling and fencing. Peopla are very pleased. The Gazzetta dello Sport had also had some really good photos from the games. In general, the standard of photography in the Italain media is very high.

Perfect weather today. Bright sun and blue sky and breeze. Humidity down to tolerable levels.

This weekend is ferie agosto, the biggest holiday in Italy. It's always on the 15th August, even when that's a Sunday, so the Italians don't actually get any extra days off work this year. Still, there will be almost nobody working. There are some random things going on in the centre of town though, which I might go and have a look at. The city will be pretty deserted. Everyone in Italy seems to have a relative with a house in the mountains somewhere, which is where they go for the whole of August.

Went to Benetton this morning, to exchange the jumper I bought on monday (in the sale) for one the right size. I hate exchanging things even in Britain - I don't know why, I've worked in enough shops to know it's no big deal - so I was nervous about things somehow becoming complicated, but of course it went smoothly. Summer sales are a serious business here, particularly in the big chain stores like Benetton - absolutely everything in the store is half price for a week to make room for the 'autumn collection'.

Benetton has lost credibility witht he discerning Italian designer-label buyer. This is chiefly because all their clothes are now made in China. Why this should be such a big deal I don't know - in my experience, all designer clothes fall apart after about 3 months no matter who made them - but they don't like it here.

I went to fnac afterwards, the big books/cds shop which I think is French owned, to buy another Dino Buzzati to read. In there, I noticed two books of 'Francesco Totti Jokes'. Totti is Italy's most famous footballer, who is Beckham-esque in his command of life and language. However, the jokes were pretty weak, and tasteless. Here is a representative example:

Totti: Doctor, I've got diarrhea
Doctor: Have you tried lemon?
Totti: Yes but when I took it out.. (etc..)

Oh dear.

Arena di Verona

So indeed going to see an opera at the Arena di Verona is one of the best things ever. I went to see Il Trovatore with Jacopo, his sister, and their partners, on Satruday night. We went in far too late, and ended up sitting on the second-to-back row. The stage was miles away, but the sound was still perfect. Fortunately, I remembered my binoculars - essential for long distance opera. The scenery and so on was by Franco Zeffirelli, a famous director of opera who did an excellent job. The way the stage was used and changed as the opera went on was great. At one point the castle tower in the centre of the stage was opened to reveal a gold chapel inside, which was so impressive some people started clapping, though the loggionisti quickly told them to shut up.

Il Trovatore is a lot of fun. The tenor, who plays Manrico (who is Il Trovatore) has an aria ("Di quella pira ") where he has to finish on a huge high C. This wasn't in Verdi's original score, but has been traditional for 150 years, and can make or break a performance. It happens in scene 2 of act 3, so you have the whole interval to look forward to it. Our Manrico, Marco Berti, managed it with some considerable aplomb, and the audience cheered and clapped until he consented to sing the aria all over again. If anything it was even better the second time. The opera continued in strong form with hundreds of gypsies, dancer, nuns, acrobatic soldiers, monks and real, live horses to add to the spectacle. It was superb - 3 and a half hours, sitting on a stony seat, seemed to pass in about 5 minutes.

As well as the performance itself, there is plenty more to add to the experience of going to the Arena. One thing is to think about the Romans sitting on the same actual seats to watch gladiators and lions. Another is to watch the rich and famous going to the expensive seats (€160 a go) in the centre of the Arena. Then you have the libretto and refreshment vendors calling out their wares in four different languages, with various degrees of proficiency. And right at the beginning, when the house lights go down, everyone in the high seats lights these little candles, which looks really magical.

So, the pictures: here.

Oh, and it didn't rain until we were one hour down the road to Milano, after the opera..

Today is the last day the student cafe is open, and also the last day the bar in Albaro is open before the big summer break. Lots of the guys here are taking holiday too, so it should be really quiet. I might sneak off to Parma for a few days. Sounds like an interesting city, though it'll be steamingly hot.

First, this weekend, we're making an attempt to go the opera in the Arena di Verona. I'll try and take some photos if we make it...

If you have 'flash' installed, the ideal way to get in the mood for the forthcoming Olympiad is to play 'herculympics', including events like minotaur throwing and centaur showjumping, together with ancient olympics trivia questions between each event.. this is what we pay the licence fee for!

It rained late last night, which poses an interesting question: what if it rains at the opera in the Arena di Verona? I might find out on Saturday night..

Am beginning to get used to the humidity. You have to walk very slowly everywhere. For dinner, you have to eat a large salad, mostly because you can't handle the idea of working in front of a hot cooker for any length of time. Fortunately, Italy is well cut out for good salad eating. It's easy and cheap to prepare a large plate of dark rocket leaves, perfectly ripe Sicilian tomatoes (called "grappolo" when they are sold "on the vine"), and some Crudo san Danielle, which is the main rival to Parma ham. It's not as sweet and has a more distinguished texture, in my opinion. Add some fresh sardines perhaps, a couple of panini, some high quality olive oil and a little pepper, and you're sorted out.

Almost two years ago, our AI building in Edinburgh burnt down, and today it seems we're finally getting the first installment of the insurance money. This is great - I'd completely forgotten about it, so it's like winning money.

Che caldo

Ok. I admit it. It is, in fact, too hot. At least the Italians agree. People don't say ciao to each other any more they say che caldo instead, which means 'rather warm, isn't it?'

I have preserved the 5 day forecast for future reference.

Jacopo has a deadline for a camera-ready paper which looks like postponing our trip to Milano until next weekend, so I may well head for a beach..

Meanwhile back in England, sheep have learned to cross cattle grids. Arg! The apocolyptic scenario of sheep taking their revenge

"They eat plants, flowers and vegetables in gardens."
"It is soul destroying.

(from BBC news)

Another day fixing broken computers. Sigh. The other two guys here have a camera ready paper due at the weekend, so I feel I should try and help them out as much as possible, though it's something I hate doing...
at least I can listen to the cricket.

Last night, I went with Jacopo to a pub near Piazza San Lorenzo where they sell 36 different kinds of beer, mostly Belgian, in bottles, and 6 different kinds on tap. €4.50 a pint, which is standard in Genova unfortunately. A major plus was the wild boar sausage and rocket foccacine. It's great to be able to get good beer and good snacks in the same place - basically impossible in Edinburgh.

When I walked home at about half 12, it was still 27 degrees according to the big thermometer display in the centre of town. It's well over 30 every day now. I've given up looking at the weather forecast.

Had a 'shakerato' today. This is espresso coffee shaken over ice with a little vanilla syrup and something else (in a bottle I couldn't read). Perfect afternoon drink for this weather. It's served in a glass with a few coffee beans floating at the top.

We're planning a trip to Milano. Jacopo lived there for several years, and knows The Places To Go To.

Spent the morning changing all my passwords. Our login box here was hacked during the weekend thanks to some bright spark setting up a guest login account with a, shall we say, "soft" password. Really amazing that people still do this in an AI department, but that's what happens if you don't have any full time support staff and give all the students the root password. Sigh. The box is a lot more secure now, in case you were wondering.

Had to take a bus just to find some lunch today, and unfortunately it's set to get worse. The student cafe where we usually go is closed all August, and so are many of the cafes and bars, particularly those up here in Albaro away from the tourist areas. Basically, everyone goes on holiday except those people who make their money from the tourists themselves. It's impossible to buy anything serious like a car or a kitchen or a computer for the whole month - which seems like a great idea. Unfortunately, it's also difficult to buy food - for one week apparently there will only be one supermarket open in the whole city (Basko, who have a reputation for crap food available all hours of the day and night). I'm afraid my favourite market is going to close as well...

Went out in Nervi on Friday night. Nervi is the little town down the coast to the East. The bar was literally right on the seafront - during the day, it is a little swimming and sunbathing area. You can buy a gin and tonic and then go and drink it with your feet dipped in the Med while you watch the ferries go past. Not a bad location really. It got pretty rammed later on, and even ran out of beer (ok, so there was some Budweiser left, effectively they had run out of beer). A good place though. Worth the wait for the taxi ride home. One good thing about waiting for a taxi in Nervi is you can go to the all-night focacceria, and get foccacia baked with olives or peppers or ham. Fantastic.

We got the taxi to take us to a late night cafe near Brignole where they had just had fresh croissants delivered. Excellent way to finish the evening.

Sleeping is now a fine balance between trying to keep cool and trying not to let too many mosquitos in. You can close the shutters outside, but they are not designed to screen insects. The mosquitos here aren't all that bad yet, but they apparently become more prevalent later in August.

Last night I ate dinner with one of my flatmates (the other is on holiday in Mozambique) and one of her friends, and actually managed to spend the whole meal speaking Italian. This is progress.

Here's a picture of me graduating in absentia two weeks ago. If you don't want to call me Dr. Steel, then Captain Steel will be fine

Some photos from Spain. I was quite bad about remembering to take photos, so there are none of the spectacular sandstone cliffs around La Rioja, or of the vineyards which go on for miles, or of the town of Logroño itself. Sorry. But I was just having too much fun to remember to take pictures..

It's good to be back in Italy. It's hot, sunny, humid, the food is great and everyone seems to be in a good mood.

Ok, much to catch up on:

Nájera Fiesta

Nájera is a small village near to Eduardo's home city of Logroño. We went there for the main day of their Fiesta, the feast of St Peter and St Paul, just after I had given my talk to the University of La Rioja where Edu works. We'd been warned to wear old clothes, so we ran home to change into shorts and old t-shirts, and in my case sandals, and then sprinted to make the bus at the bus station. We just made it, which is always a good way to start a Fiesta. In Nájera, we met the four girls Eduardo had mysteriously lined up for us to spend the day with, and their instant reaction was to point at my sandals and wag their fingers. Oh dear. At this point I looked around the assembled crowd of thousands of potential Fiesta people and noticed that nobody, absolutely nobody, was wearing anything but shoddy old trainers. Ah. Fortunately, one of the girls had some spare trainers in her flat nearby, and generously gave them to me, and with a bit of swapping I ended up with a pair big enough to wear. So all set.

The fiesta starts with the brass band playing three tunes which you get to hear about 10 000 times by the end of the day. The band are mostly in their sixties and play from a bandstand while everybody links arms and dances in large circles around them shouting along with the music. Then, the band has to march, playing the same 3 tunes, from the bandstand through the narrow alleyways in the old part of the village to the other square, where they will form up and play again. Simple - but not if all the other fiesta people have to squeeze through the alleyways as well, and particularly not if about half of the young men are linking arms and pushing everybody back, while the other half are linking arms and trying to push everybody forwards. Now you're glad you're not wearing sandals, as your feet are trodden on for the 67th time. It takes about 3 hours for the band to go 200 metres, and all the while they must play louder and louder if they want to get through. All this goes on in the heat of the afternoon, with much drinking of beer and wine and calimochos (that's spelt wrong - wine and coke, anyway) and the residents who live in flats with windows over the alleyways chuck buckets of cold water on the grateful revellers underneath. This might sound crazy, but it's actually great fun. Really great fun. And you can slip out of the melee and go into a bar for a cool beer, then charge back in again, it's all very friendly and at the end, all the people who were organising the push forwards are hugging all the guys who organised the push backwards, and everyone's cheering the band who managed to keep playing and probably lost 3 kilos of fluids each in sweat.

However, that's only the start of the fiesta. After that things get really crazy. You go into bars and wonder why all the TVs and speakers are wrapped up in dustbin bags, and why thick polyurethane sheeting covers the bottles and kit behind the bar, and then about half an hour later, drink starts flying all over the place, people are throwing water over each other, and then wine, beer, coke, anything. The bars are rammed with people, drinks are being passed miles over people's heads back across the room, you typically order a round of small strong drinks, like Orujo, and a round of cold refreshing long drinks for drinking/throwing in equal proportions. Before long, everyone is soaked in beer, the floor is an inch deep in a strange mixed liquid, your old trainers are half destroyed, everyone is dancing and singing, and running to the next bar for more of the same. Very quickly you lose track of time, and in my case, forget that you can't speak the language. I made several good friends without any actual verbal communication, including someone who gave me his hat. One place, a sort of village co-operative, is handing out free wine - yes free - in those huge glass drinking horns where you have to hold it high in the air above you and try to swallow as you pour it down your throat. This is of course almost impossible for a first timer, but everyone was very generous in their appreciation of my rather weak effort. I had a certain novelty value being the only foreigner there. The party carried on with conga dancing, stupid jokes, shouting, more soaking each other in drink, more bars, peculiar drinks, podium dancing, confusion of similar-looking brothers with each other (with hilarious consequences) until eventually we were given a lift home to Logroño, exhausted but strangely elated. Anyway, the Spanish, at least in this part of Spain, really know how to have a good time. Really. If a Spanish friend ever invites you to their village Fiesta, away from the English-speaking tourist fest in Pamplona, then go immediately. Do not delay. Pay whatever easyjet are asking. You won't regret it.

Of course I have no photos of the Fiesta. Only a fool would take a digital camera into that. I didn't even see anyone taking photos, which is kind of cool. What goes at the Fiesta, stays at the Fiesta.

First things first.The photos from bass rock, off North Berwick which is near to Edinburgh. Fantastic place. it took two and a half hours to get there on the terrible trains and the food was awful, but the trip more than made up for it. And I got to drive the boat..

I'm now in Edinburgh. Blogging will recommence when I get back to Genova next Sunday - until then the headlines: at the IJCAR conference, I had to do an invited talk in place of my Prof. who was taken sick at the last minute. Went ok though. My presentations also went down fairly well. I graduated in absentia whilst touring the Jameson Whiskey (and Cork Dry Gin) distillery, and taking part in their largest simultaneous whiskey tasting ever. Spent the weekend in Clare which was also good. Pictures and full reports on Fiestas, late Spanish nights, the Guggenheim in Bilbao, and all the rest to follow soon

By the way, regarding Friday night´s result, and with reference to this post, I would like to express my profound thanks to the Greek national team. Ela Ellada! (some good pictures of celebrations in Greece here)

Tomorrow I give a talk on my PhD work here to the University of La Rioja. Universities named after wine are obviously the way forward. They´re expecting a largish audience, which is a bit unexpected but will be good practice for the IJCAR talk in Ireland next week.

All very good here in the Rioja region of Spain. I´m staying with Eduardo in his home town, Logroño. Went into the Basque country today to watch some crazy rowing races involving tradtional boats and teams of huge oarsmaen. Also had a great barbecue on a fire made from vine twigs. Wine good, tapas excellent, last night we were out all night going bar to bar in the old town where every shop is a tapas bar specialising in something - seafood or mushrooms or sorbeto or whatever. you end up eating a huge amount, and everything has lots of salt on it, to make you buy more wine. Another excellent thing is the extremely dry Basque cider, poured into glasses over the shoulder at a range of about 1 metre.

more later

In a big hurry to get ready for a little trip to Spain, so no time to post much, just this article in the Grauniad about Italy's unfortunate exit from Euro 2004, which had peole here very annoyed, but mostly just disappointed and not very surprised. yesterday, Fiona was here, had an excellent day taking the little train to Cassella then hitting the town, ending up at a huge seafront bar/club that has just opened for the summer.