A visit to the Seven Sisters

I needed a break! Although it might sound awfully biased, I deserved a break after a solid 2 month long stretch of work, focused on a mini project as part of my Ph.D., which resulted in a complete study and a 36 page journal paper which I submitted next week. Indeed, my co-supervisor suggested that I take a week off from work; I did not follow the tempting advice fully but took a 2.5 day break: a weekend trip to the south coast at Eastbourne and the Seven Sisters.

It might seem a very bad idea to go by the sea in late November and indeed it was a very risky business but the Friday turned out to be a sunny day and come Friday afternoon, we headed on a Southern train to Eastbourne to a sea-facing B+B which I booked a few days before. Although it was a room with a sea view, by 7.30pm it was pitch dark and saw none of the English Channel but were nonetheless welcomed into a largish room with a double and a single bed, complete with flat screen and DVD player and with a largish bathroom, including a bath. Compared with our own "home" at Ealing, this seemed too luxurious! After a quick trip to the first pub round the corner, a pint or 2 whilst amused by a karaoke show, we slept after watching Casino Royale and got up unusually early on the Saturday morning.

By 8.15am, we were at the breakfast room, where an unending fiesta of saturated fats deceitfully disguised under the very appealing form of sausages, bacon, (sunny-side-up) egg, hash browns, bacon and baked beans (and coffee and toast and cake) awaited us. Oh, the joys of cooked English breakfast! The exaggerated intake of calories surely proved to be a much-needed supply of fuel for a long day ahead...

We walked up to the town centre along the pebbly coast and took a bus to a tiny place called East Dean and then down to the Seven Sisters Country Park. At the end of the River Chuckmere to be precise. There commenced our famous Satuday walk, up and down all of the 7 gleaming white chalk hills - the Seven Sisters - down to Burling Gap and the "beach", up to the Belle Tout Lighthouse and then alongside the cliffs towering above the Beachy Head lighthouse: a total of some 14 km (as the crow flies) in 4.5 hours and with a maximum gradient of some 22% towards the end. Thank you, Google Earth, for the statistics.

By 3pm, we were totally famished, not to mention the feet started to complain and our arrival at the Beachy Head Pub was more than welcome. There a massive lunch awaited: a whale of a fish-and-chips and a pint of cider in a cosy and warm ambient. Perfect. A not-so-short walk to the main road took us to the first bus stop and we were back in the town centre by 6.30pm. One long and hot bath undid all the aches and pains in the feet and it was then time for Richard Gere and Julia Roberts (yes, Pretty woman) to conclude the night. Together with nachos, cookies and what not.

Next: easy like Sunday morning. Another full English breakfast worthy of royalty and then a laid back trip around the town, starting off by a stroll along the coast up to the pier and then a visit to 1 or 2 parks and back to the centre for yet another pub lunch, which proved to take longer than usual. After lunch, we headed to the outskirts of town to a marina development until sunset (that is 4pm) and then back to the guest house for our belongings and the station.

3 hours later, we were back in Ealing, mentally refreshed, physically drained but feeling very lucky that the weather was totally brilliant (in fact even warm at times) and visiting one of the widest expanses of cliff, green and sea in Britain (together with intermittent massive consumption of food) makes me say that the Seven Sisters are a set of family members I am really glad to have made an acquaintance with!

Gaddafi's gone

The topic of this post is probably the same as those in all journalistic writings all over the world: Muammar Gaddafi, former leader of Libya, has been caught and killed. The Libyan revolution is over, probably the last stage of the Arab spring, at least for the time being.

Just over 8 months after the protesting began in Libya, it seems that the fighting is over and Libyans can start rebuilding their country. This will be a massive undertaking and definitely outside the scope of this post. What I want to write about is a sideline to the main story.

It is totally amazing that within hours or perhaps minutes of the former leader's capture, videos of the undertaking started appearing on YouTube. Footage from phones somehow found their way online, depicting the last few minutes or hours of a person's life and the degrading way of how the man met his fate. By now, the death has been confirmed and more of these videos are surfacing by the minute. The more I see, the more I am disgusted.

I am not saying Gaddafi was a fine example of decent human behaviour and probably would have deserved being executed after his capture. What I fail to understand is that despite all the wrong a person could have done in his/her life, there remains a basic, minimum threshold of humanity which still needs to be respected. A person close to death does not deserve such maltreatment and humiliation and, what is worse, a dead person should not be thrown on a street, trampled upon or stripped naked. The Libyans were right to get rid of a man who treated people like animals but it seems that they have not learnt the lesson and are doing it all over again.

I only trust that the Arab spring was not, in fact, an autumn. In any case, so long, Colonel.

A+E: check!

During all the time I have been in the U.K., one thing which I have never used were the NHS services. Well, except for going to a dentist when my wisdom tooth was killing me, but then again that was not A+E as such. Now I am able to tick "Use NHS A+E" off the list...

It was an ordinary Wednesday afternoon coffee break at the SCR. I unusually had an espresso and a quick sandwich when, all of a sudden, I had this intense pain bang on in the middle of my abdomen. I could barely walk back to the office and I immediately blamed the espresso: perhaps it was burnt or I should stick to my usual Americano version of coffee?

The pain got worse and my wife and co-supervisor promptly called the emergency and "ordered" an ambulance. I feared it would be the appendix revisiting me after almost 2 decades of silence. The ambulance did not turn up half an hour after calling so we decided to get a cab down to Chelsea and Westminster Hospital. Less than 10 minutes later, we were there.

By now, the pain was ironically subsiding, though I was still not uncomfortable. After a quick registration or whatever you would call the initial process, I was called by a nurse some 30 minutes later who did a basic examination and thought the pain was too high up to be appendix, which was a brief relief, but had to await being seen by a proper doctor.

The doctor only called me almost 2 hours later, during which time the A+E waiting room seemed to be more like a social club rather than a place of emergency: people eating, drinking, watching TV, flirting, browsing YouTube on their laptop (yes, that's right) and the odd cry of pain from 1 or 2.

Anyway, I was my turn after a long wait and the doctor said it was probably some bug or stomach acid. Back home, I slept rather well, though the next morning I still did not feel too well and stayed at home. By lunch time, I thought I was 100% recovered and was almost going to the office but by 5.30 the pain had returned and by evening it was almost unbearable. There we go again.

I slept uncomfortably and got up well on the Saturday. I ate like a toddler all day but by today I think all is fine. I guess I will never know what exactly was wrong with me but what I do know is that the A+E in the U.K. is not very different from the A+E at home!

The beginning of the end?

Monday, 5th October, 2009: I was registered, for the second time, as a postgraduate student of Imperial College London. Wednesday, 5th October, 2011: I am now starting my third year (and, in theory, my final year) of my Ph.D. It has been a sinusoidal journey of ups and downs, with many positive academic highs and opposing dry periods, but I have survived so far. A Ph.D. is way different from all I had done in the past: nothing is really predictable, almost everything depends on third parties and pretty much everything depends on self-motivation. If I start writing about the actual Ph.D., this might turn out to be a mini-thesis, so I will stop here. But there is more to this matter...

A few weeks ago, a bomb dropped in my wife's inbox. It was a Ph.D. offer! Prior to that fateful day, I was utterly convinced that I would never recommend to anyone to enrol on a Ph.D. (I was passing through one of the unmotivated times!) but suddenly I had to change my position. Or rather, I decided to take the role of Pilate: I did not want to commit myself to suggesting a 'Yes' or a 'No'. My wife's wisdom, after several days of soul-searching, led to the 'Yes' answer, which meant refusing a job position and extending our planned stay in London by another 3 years or so. A change of plans (quite literally) overnight.

Now that the final year has officially started, it means that some of my office colleagues who were there before me when I started are now finishing off their own final year and this will entail a number of goodbyes, soon. They are, in a way, a source of inspiration to me since I am getting a sudden surge of momentum to work hard and finish my own work too. Possibly without any further extensions. Although, as it turns out now, I will be sticking around for a while, even after I am done! I am not complaining since I do love this city and am actually now looking forward to staying here for longer. Possibly seeing a Royal Coronation? No, long live the Queen!

Indian summer!

The Indian summer is over! After almost 2 weeks of fantastic weather, we are back to normal London weather: fresh and cloudy. But it was the hottest week in the last century and on 1 or 2 days it was here hotter than the Bahamas. What a shame that I had to work, even work hard. But one particular afternoon, it was too warm and nice to stay in the office and my colleagues and I headed off to Hyde Park enjoying the sunshine and the cooling water of the Diana memorial fountain. And did not fail to get disgusted by this year's Serpentine Pavilion, of which I still do not understand the whole point. But I will not waste time writing on that.

The whole "Indian summer" kicked off when my mother and sister visited us for a week. It never crossed our minds that the sun and heat would persist for a couple of weeks, so we thought it was mere luck! We made the most of the good weather by visiting Richmond (and managed to "meet" a couple of deer, too) and then another trip to Regent's Park and a long day out to Greenwich and the obligatory visit to one of London's architectural landmarks during the annual London Open House; this year we visited the Broadgate Tower in Liverpool Street. It was a fun week, though I must say that our poor studio flat was filled to its capacity, but we survived! It is always nice to have visitors and to be able to entertain.

On the following weekend, we headed off to Wembley Stadium for a tour of the sport Mecca with a Maltese friend. Nothing compares with a full stadium and in action but it was nonetheless a great experience. A decent pub lunch concluded the outing.

On what was probably the warmest day of them all, my wife and I headed off to central London for one massive riverside walk, this time on the north bank, kicking off at the Monument and up its 311 steps for an amazing 360 degree vista of the City and beyond and then continuing up to St. Paul's, across to Tate Modern, a sneak into the Rose Theatre (a first for us), a tasty focaccia for lunch at Borough Market, a site visit at the towering Shard, then back to St. Paul's (which we hoped to enter and go up its dome but we found out that it was about to close 40 minutes later and thus had to postpone) and then a visit to the Barbican. Even writing all these made me tired!

The first day of the week was nice and sunny, too, but that is all; from today, we are getting temperatures as low as 10 degrees at night and sunshine is at a premium. Possibly a good sign, since I can focus on my work, especially now that I have started my 3rd and (in theory) final year of my Ph.D. More on that, later!

Archi-neering superstars

What a week! What a month, really! Four consecutive weeks of non-stop activity. First, the conference at Switzerland, then the brief trip to Italy, followed by the trip to the homeland, then the visit of my mum and sister and finally this week: the IABSE-IASS conference in London. A conference with a difference...

This time round, I was on the other side of the table: I was not participating in the actual conference but helping out the organisers in the running of the conference. It was somewhat more physically engaging than anything else, although the most painful parts were waking up at times in the order of 6.45am to be at the venue by 8.30am, which entails a lot of effort from my part...though the endeavours were rewarded in a number of ways...

On the opening day, I managed to attend 2 keynote lectures by 2 key figures in the engineering and architectural fields: Bill Baker of SOM, structural engineer of the world's tallest building and Lord Norman Foster, undoubtedly one of the world's leading architects. Not only did I attend the lectures, but then also met the 2 of them after. Bill Baker was somewhat easier to handle; soon after the end of the talk, I went up to him and asked for a photo and had a very brief chat too. Lord Foster was somewhat more complicated. At the end of his talk, I headed off to the main entrance of the QE-II centre and awaited him beside his awaiting Mercedes. Some 20 minutes later, the designer exited, and I ran up to him, let him know of my admiration, shook the hands that designed buildings the like of the Swiss Re, the City Hall, the new Wembley, the HSBC headquarters, the Commerzbank and many more, and then asked for a photo, too! What a day that was!

On the Thursday, I was meant to be off duty, but then had a last minute call and was requested to accompany the accompanying persons on their tour to Windsor. Although I had been to Windsor twice, I accepted and early in the morning I, together with my wife, headed off with a group of elderly ladies from all over the world and took them to the Queen's castle outside London. It was a lovely day, sunny and clear and it was great to visit the castle and the royal quarters and chapel again. Following lunch by the river (very tasty bangers and mash), we briefly visited Savill Garden nearby and then back to London. It was a serendipitous day out!

Friday was the last day of the conference, thankfully; I developed signs of a cold, was tired of all the early rising up and needed rest and recovery. One last great event was left: a visit to the Olympic Park site in East London. At 8.30, the coach departed towards the east and were shown around the main landmarks soon after, albeit always within the coach. Since the last time I had been there, I can say that remarkable progress has been made, but I am still not convinced that they will finish all in time. They claim they are on track and within budget. I hope they are in the right.

It is now all over, I am in bed with a dripping nose and dead tired, but it was a good week. The same cannot be said for my work, though, since not much has been done in the past couple of days. But the thought of starting my 3rd year in a few days' time give me a lot of courage and adrenalin to get going...but not today; after all, tomorrow is another day!

Another Maltese wedding!

I had barely recovered from my Switzerland/Italy trip when it was time to make another trip, this time to Malta. The motivation? The wedding of one of my sisters-in-law, the elder one to be precise. This will be the first family wedding since our own (unfortunately I missed my cousin's earlier wedding due to the Porto conference) and thus was doubly excited to attend Miriam's and Chris's wedding.

On the Thursday, I got up as usual at around 8.30am and headed off to Uni and did some decent work. That evening, after dinner and packing a small suitcase, we took the night bus to Marble Arch at 1am and then the 757 coach to Luton and got there by 3.15am. One strong coffee and Krispy Kreme doughnut later, we boarded our plane at 6am and left for Malta, still not having slept. We arrived at the homeland at 10.30am local time and a very long day awaited us; first a blood donation, then wedding preparations, food consumption and what not and only finally slept at about 11.30pm, almost 40 hours after having last been in a bed. Not nice.

The next day, I got up quite early and assisted with a few of the last minute wedding errands and in the late afternoon headed off to the in-laws' house for the start of the wedding antics: photos, video then a car ride to the church and the ceremony began. It brought memories of our own wedding and was lovely. By 9pm, we all headed off to the reception venue and an evening of food, drink, talk and dance awaited and lasted till the early hours of Sunday. After all the guests had gone, we cleared all up and got home at 3.30am, yet another long day, although of "only" 20 hours.

On Sunday, I got up at midday and whilst having brunch, my aunt called and invited us to join them on a boat trip, which I could not refuse. Thus, 2 hours later, we were on a boat to San Blas Bay in Gozo, an amazing place I had never been to before, followed by an obligatory visit to the harbour and enjoying wonderful views of the capital and environs. Malta is simply beautiful, particularly from the sea. No wonder so many conquerors instantly loved Malta; in times when the only international access was from the sea, I would have had no second thoughts as to whether I would like to colonise such a land!

The visit soon came to an end on Tuesday morning, but an extra 2 Micallefs boarded that flight: my mum and my sister were accompanying us to London until Sunday! But that is another story!