Steve Jobs

There was a little Apple Shop in Slough, my home town. I never really took notice of it. I don't think I even went inside. Not until I had been to university. It was 1995 and I was studying Politics with Economic and Social History. Like most people, I didn't have a computer of my own so I went to a computer lab, no, lab is the wrong word, a computer area in the glass and steel hi-tech (how it felt to me) library of Leicester University. I would queue up to use the PCs but the queues were so long, sometimes running across the computer area out into the central area. And waiting in that line; it was like sitting on a sweaty bus seeing a cyclist rush past. The queue to use the Macs was so short! I looked over at them, how weird, black and white (I thought). So dull.

The weeks went on and I broke down. I switched queues. I sat down and there was a little program. I think it was called Guided Tour. People talk about life changing moments, well that seems a bit melodramatic, but this was an important moment in my life. This little program, all it did was explain that the desktop background is meant to be like a real desktop. You put things on it. And those windows are like pieces of paper. You move them around, and you can throw files into the Waste bin (the old System 7 was localised into English, AKA 'British English', sadly Mac OSX isn't). What's the big deal? Well up to that point, I had been using DOS and Windows 3.1. Windows had windows, but they didn't work like windows on this Mac. It had a background picture, but the desktop didn't work like this. It was a fake and this was a revelation - THIS is how it's meant to work. That, over there is a FAKE! And it was the same with the Mac as it was later with the Moulton bicycle. I used the Mac, became comfortable, went back to the PC and was disgusted. Perhaps disgusted is too strong, but it was so garish, so cheap feeling, nasty. And then back to the Mac, so calm, understated, efficient. Out of your way rather than in your face. This is still true today, Lion is muted, Windows 7 blares. The scales had fallen from my eyes.

It wasnt long before I had to have my own Mac. First a design icon Mac Classic II running Word 5.1. The best ever version of Microsoft Word. I created line drawings on that Mac that I couldn't believe. Just vector drawings, but a rose, the Private Eye logo, Neushwanstein. I couldn't believe it, I wasn't an artist, but I could make art with this! And writing was so easy, so free of friction and distraction. Next was a design classic, the Color Classic, then another design classic, the PowerBook 520c (the first computer with a trackpad) which I kept until I entered work and could afford a new Mac, a Johnny Ive Lombard PowerBook G3.

Oh it is so true, the designs were so organic and alive, friendly and sexy and...totally invisible when you were using the computer. Apple did make some clunkers in the Amelio years like the PowerMac 4400, but on Jobs return the designs returned to being so good that it got out of the way, revealing an efficient product, that was usable. Not cluttered and confusing and tiring. Usability gives the user the power to do things, to create, to experiment, and be free. That's what I loved about this product, that's what made me a loyal Apple customer, and that was Steve Jobs vision, executed on the Mac, then on the iPod, then on the iPhone and iPad, and perhaps soon iCloud. It was his passion, to get it right and not ship crap. And Windows users would say - but there are so many more programs for Windows. So much crap, I'm afraid, so awful, because Steve's passion for perfection permeated from the design, to the OS and its perfect icons and onto to the developers, and the peripheral makers and strangely to many of the customers too. Why should we put up with second-rate? This is the answer to why not buy a cheap PC. They feel second rate, after having used a Mac. Android is...just not right, it's too complicated. I loved Nokia Series 60 until Nokia added more and more menus, so frustrating. The Palm V was great, but eventually I bored of the stylus.

Nothing compelling, too much friction. Dealing with this, for me, was Steve Job's great strength. He called it "saying no" which meant less distraction, creating space for us to work. And this is not a supernatural talent, it is a mindset that demanded excellence, that I hope, is his legacy. The best way to remember him, I think, is to feel his passion and do your best in your work.

Steve Jobs, 1955-2011. Rest in peace.

2011 holiday pt.3 Orkney

It's was a 6 hour ferry ride to Kirkwall, the capital of the Orkney Islands. I wish I could say it was peaceful but it was not, there was a group of teenagers returning to Orkney, making mayhem on the floor above - bang crash, bang etc. The guys on reception had to go up a few times to tell them to calm down. I was following our route occasionally on Viewranger and I went outside as we passed the Fair Isle, famous (or rather, not famous) for it's woollen knitting.

When we arrived in Kirkwall it was still light and when the taxi eventually arrived and took me to the hostel around 23:30 it was still light. I was tired and didn't stay up to see if it got dark, but I would presume not. The next day I got up and strolled down to Kirwall, I was going to pick up my tickets for the St. Magnus Festival (I was going to hear, if not see the Scottish Chamber Orchestra Strings) and made a quick dash around the museum before my island tour started at 10:50. I went walking down the main pedestrian street in Kirwall and it's even worse than in Sheltand, clogged and blocked with cars and vans. At least here it prohibits vehicles between 11 and 3. I'm not sure why this prohibition started so late in the morning - not much seemed to open before 10:30, perhaps all their tourists are late risers? I got to the festival office to find they didn't have my tickets, they would be on the door that evening, fair enough.

I only went to the museum for one thing, to see how they described the transfer of the islands from Denmark to Scotland. It said "After Norway became united with Denmark under the Danish Crown, Orkney and Shetland were pawned to Scotland as part of a Royal dowry in 1468. They were formally annexed by Scotland in 1471. So in Orkney's museum they were "pawned" and in Shetland, they were "mortgaged". Isn't that funny?

Desk Officer: So, what did you find?
Field Operative: Their flags; they're not very British...
Desk Officer: What do you mean "not British"?
Field Operative: it's basically the flag of Denmark and they seem to be operating out of this building, looks like some kind of front
Desk Officer: it's the Centre for Nordic Studies you dolt!
Field Officer: it's got the flags on the windows, it's quite openly Nordic - nod nod, wink wink
Desk Officer: this isn't the Spanish Inquisition and Norway is a friend - not significant... Put it on file, just in case.

I lost all my photos from my last visit to Orkney in 2001, so I just wanted to retrace my steps. The proper guided tour available didn't quite do that, it had a bit more focus on wildlife than I was interested in, but the alternate would have been unviable, too far and the roads too dangerous to cycle on and maybe too far to walk. Anyway the actual commentary was really good and knowledgeable so I cant complain too much. We drove out to Birdsay and then Marwick head nature reserves. Marwick in particular reminded me of Shetland with bird colonies on the cliffs. At Marwick there was also a memorial tower to Lord Kitchener. He is the man on that famous "Your country wants YOU" recruitment poster from World War 1. He was going to Russia when his ship hit a German mine a sank. The memorial says that he drowned, but since he reportedly feared drowning and no body was found, my guide suggested that he shot himself. Speaking of which you can't climb the tower now because locals kept jumping off to their deaths. A sobering aspect of the flip side of long summer days is the depressive effect of never-ending darkness in winter. As he said, "some people can cope, and some people can't."

Again, thousands of birds nesting on the cliffs and soaring around the sky. Apparently there were many fewer birds here now than previously and there were no puffins to be seen anywhere. Apparently the puffins eat sand eels and these are efficiently dredged up by fishermen to make protein meal for the cattle on the island. Sustainability fail, I think, especially when the Puffin features so much on Orkney's tourist literature.

Next we went to Scara Brae, the remarkable neolithic settlement. It was a town, but climate change had washed most of it away, so all that remained was a deserted remnant and a large bay full of sea water. The settlement was covered in sand for thousands of years and only uncovered in a freak storm, whence digging revealed a remarkable preserved set of houses with furniture in tact.

This was not the Scara Brae I remembered. Where there was just the settlement before, there was now a large and featured visitor centre and hundreds of day trippers and a recreated full house and 4 min video. We didn't need the video as our guide explained everything to us. There were only 2 of us on the tour but around 20 others listening in eagerly to his description. The main things I remember are about the position of the "dresser" directly opposite the front door so that you could display your wealth to visitors and the beds to the side and built in sewerage system and sliding front doors.

Yes sliding doors made from stone only about 1 meter high. They filled their stone walls with rubbish to block draughts and each house was surrounded by a sunken alley. You could see a public square and a workshop. Remarkable living for 5000 years ago. Moving on we saw two sets of standing stones. The second was smaller that the first. It seems that tribes across the islands had cooperated, bringing their own stones to this central place. As arranged they had a remarkable echoing property which the guide demonstrated. He would speak and his voice echoed back louder. Useful for public gatherings back then I guess.

Driving back to Kirwall was a little unsettling. At one roundabout he nearly drove into a car coming round. He said "I don't like those roundabouts, some people don't know how to use them," uh-huh, I thought. I saw the car coming, why didn't he? Then in Kirwall, around another roundabout a tourist was crossing the road we were tuning into. Now she should have walked 10 meters to the zebra crossing, but again I clearly saw her crossing as we entered the roundabout. But he had to do an emergency stop right in front of her. And he said "why didn't she use the crossing just there", but I'm thinking "get an eye test mate". Not good.

I got back in good time To visit the ruins of the Earls Palace and Bishops palace. This cruel and wicked Earl used slave labour to build his house, so to match the bishop's next door. He was eventually deposed and beheaded, and that was that. In the Cathedral across the road the chamber orchestra were rehearsing. I took a few photos and crept around. I overheard a church person later saying that it was very Nordic inside and that really Orkney was Norwegian for many for many more years than it was ever Scottish. Noted.

Later that evening I was back in town for the concert. The first half was wonderful. I had a partial view of the stage, I could only see the 2nd strings and very expressive double-bass player. The second half was modern music. Modern classical, which sadly seems to mean dissonant, jarring, misery. I could hear a snap of nice chords and then a shrill of discord. What feeling is producing such music? It seemed so unhappy, however excellently they played it. Mixed feelings about that.

Walking back to the hostel I went to the big Tesco to get food for the long journey the next day. It was next to a Lidl. Each had a slightly different focus, Tesco was proudly serving local produce to Orkney (I think they had a shelf or an aisle, I didn't see it) while Lidl proclaimed "one country one price", implying that food in the islands was more expensive that the mainland. Take your pick of priorities I guess.

A curious thing at the bus stop the next morning for my my journey to Edinburgh. A lady traveling to the mainland with no idea which ferry she was taking. How were we meant to know where she should go for the 9am ferry when she didn't even know which port in Scotland she was going to. I'm pretty sure she missed her connection. I however got to Edinburgh at 20:24, exactly on time. There's some benefit to extreme planning. or put another way, this why I do it; to avoid the fear of being lost and bewildered in a strange place.

2011 holiday pt.2 Shetland

It was a smooth sailing from Aberdeen. On the open observation deck a bird spotter type said to me that he had just seen a whale. That's kind of gobsmackingly rare and sadly although I looked and looked I didn't see it. I booked a cabin in advance for this overnight ferry and it was small but modern and comfortable. It was a 4-man cabin with no window but each bunk had a thick curtain for privacy. In the ship's reception area, tv screens were advertising Paul, a sic-fi comedy about an alien showing in the ship's cinema. Super I thought, but when I went to the cinema it wasn't listed. So I asked in the shop and she said that the tv showed the sort of films that the cinema would show. Ok, so is Paul showing tonight? No. I'm writing this on the ferry down to Orkney and it's not showing tonight either. Ho hum.

I decided to go to bed early, around 9 pm and I found I woke up again at 11. I think I was awoken by the sudden stillness of the sea (the boat had stopped in Kirwall, capital of the Orkney Islands). I woke again later in the night and then slept in fits and starts through to 6:30 when I decided to get up (in time for docking at port at 07:30). So I got up at 06:30 which was a lesson learned from the mad rush last year in Brittanny where everyone was expected off so that the next load could get on. This time Sod's law dictated that as I was walking off the gangway I heard an announcement telling car drivers that once off they could come back in for breakfast and please to leave the cabins by 09:30. So the rush was a waste of time. I got off anyway and stood outside the nearby Coop in the cold, (it was only 57 degrees C) waiting for it to open at 08:00 for breakfast, then on getting to Lerwick I waited another hour for my tour. It's a good thing I had podcasts to listen to.

But the tour was worth waiting for. This was called seabirds and seals. If you ever get the chance to go to Shetland you must take this tour on the boat Dunter 3. We sailed out in this jet boat (because propellers can't operate in shallow water) across the seal and bird breeding grounds in Bressay island (I see now why some seals are speckled, it's because in their natural habits the rocks are speckled, it is very effective camouflage) and then jetted across to the island of Noss which is a national park, and what a park! The steep and stepped cliffs are home to around 10,000 Gannets and thousands of other sea birds. It is an awesome sight to see all these gracious birds swirling overhead and squawking at the tops of their voices. We were warned to cover our head in case they spat at us for fear of risk to their young. I'm not entirely sure what spitting means, but these birds were able to projectile shit quite menacingly.

I think I was the youngest on board by about 20 years but the others on-board were just as excited and awed by the spectacle. We got so close to the cliff that they really towered above us and the birds were only a few meters away. We went from nesting site to nesting site. The only way I can think to describe it is that it was like one of those Attenborough tv programs life of birds or whatever, and you're right in the middle of it. And there was more, because we could go in shallow waters, we were taken under natural rock arches and into caves, actual caves! In the second cave they got out the mini submarine. This was a small remote control submersible with propulsion and a tv camera. This broadcast live video back to the boat so we could see what was under the water and what a contrast to the stark sandstone above! It was completely alive with green, cabbage and red seaweeds; starfish, anemones, squid, krill, plankton and lots of coral animals.

After that, it was time for lunch. What else but fish and chips? But when I went to the fish bar I saw, there was no fish, everything but fish. Maybe Shetland is out of fish? So I had a smoked sausage and chips. Very tasty and sustainable. I'd have had haggis and chips if they had offered it though. The town centre in Lerwick has a pedestrian zone with shops and... cars. That's nuts, cars just drove through the pedestrians all the time. For access only, apparently but I saw a few tour vehicles going through there. Anyway, I rang ahead to book a taxi from Kirkwall in Orkney to my hostel so I'd arrive before it closed (1of2 taxis on this trip) and then walked to the Museum.

Shetland Museum and Archives is ok. It tells the story of Shetland in a fairly straightforward way. So, it was Pictish and Celtic before the Vikings came and chucked all the existing British Isles inhabitants into the sea. That appears to be the gist of things. So Shetland joined the lands that became Norway, which became part of Denmark. Fast forward a few hundred years and the King of Denmark wants his daughter to marry the Scottish King. Fine but he doesn't have any money for a dowry. So he mortgages Shetland to Scotland to pay for it. A mortgage. This meant it was Scotland's until Denmark could pay for it back. It then said that Denmark tried several times to buy it back but failed each time - and it leaves it at that. What? I need to look this up because this sounds fishy and a bit unjust to Britain unless we really did screw Denmark, in which case why wasn't there a Falklands style war? I got a hint of ever so slight ambivalence to the British having sovereignty here. Only a hint. Who opened the Shetland Museum? Looking at the plaque outside, first listed is none other than the Queen of Norway and second fiddle below is Charles and Camilla. Fair enough, she out ranks our heir, but the situation of Shetland being British was described to me by a museum guide as a historical accident. Providence surely? No? LOL. Shetland retains strong family links to Norway, who are the second most common visitors. Oh and both the flags of Shetland and Orkney are in the Scandinavian cross style although both include saltire blue to throw a bone to Scotland. Nod, wink I get you, ok. They ain't getting it back though (too much oil).

Anyway shortly after this I was accosted politely by a museum guide, did I know about "Fair Isle" wool? No (of course not). I was then given a personal and passionate tour of the museums wollen artifacts. Did you know you can make lace from wool? It was a firm favorite of Queen Victoria and the fair isle pattern on jumpers was made popular by, erm King Edward the abdicator, whose pattern included a swastika. No kidding. A key feature of 'Fair Isle' (which is a southerly Sheland island) is only 2 colours per pattern row. Fair isle is inspired by other patterns (looks a bit Ikea/Scandinavian - surprise!) but is ripped off with many foreign goods describing themselves as Shetland wool. I was a shown a poster for the US market which said English Shetland wool jumpers made with Australian wool. She didn't say it but I felt insulted for her. I tried to explain and ask about EU protection (which is all the rage these days) but she didn't seem to understand. Maybe the Scandinavian influence would undermine any claim for originality. But the wool itself does appear to be original in that all the animals are adapted for the Shetland climate. The sheep have different finer wool to other sheep. They are not sheared but, essentially combed.

They had some boats in the Museum and I had a quick look but my time was up so I left for the ferry. There's not much else in Lerwick anyway, Lerwick is really all about eco tours, occasional festivals and bird watching. On the way there I turned on the phone to see voice messages telling me that my guided tour around Orkney was on so that's what I'll be doing tomorrow (I had been on the waiting list). As I was on the phone one of the huge gulls "spat" on my shoulder. I didn't deserve that, as I did buy some souvenirs. Bah.

2011 holiday pt.1 Glasgow and Aberdeen

Greetings from Aberdeen (typing this at sea)!

Well it wasn't exactly the best preparation for an early start. I have been trying for the past few months to see Adam Buxton at a BUG music video event and each time I visit the booking page I find it already sold out. So when a comedy night turned up on the night before my departure I jumped at the chance. And it was great, but it went on quite a bit longer than I had imagined. I didn't get home till 1 am and I had to do the dishes, complete my packing check-list (I did the checklist to avoid my calamity last year where I absent-mindedly forgot my wash bag) and take a shower (to avoid a rush in the morning). I finished at 3 am. I woke up at 5 and left at 05:30. I didn't feel too bad though and the the journey went to clockwork. I got on the train at Euston and sat in a unreserved first class seat. The conductor came and collected £15 for a Weekend First upgrade (meaning the total cost to me was £13 cheaper than buying an advance first class ticket). Then there was a line fatality...

The conductor was very sorry but we all had to get off at Preston. Well that ruined my half-sleep. I had sufficient wits though to get off and got to the alternate train as directed. I looked for found the first class section. Given that when I found it it wasn't packed, I guess that most first class passengers went to the nearest standard seat. So I got a nice wide seat on this new Class 185 Trans-Pennine Express and that took us, gradually, to Carlisle. There, we were told, we would have to de-train and get a bus to Glasgow. Thankfully this was erroneous. Some people looked and jumped in the first Glasgow bound train. Bad mistake as that was a slow stopper going via Dumfries. There another direct train a few minutes later, well really just a minute or two so I hot footed it, but when I got on the platform there was no train. And the estimate time boards started shifting about, was it coming or not? Well it came a few minutes later and lo, it was another Virgin Pendolino. Perhaps the same one we got off before? No idea but I guess not, because they said the crew was in different locations so there would be no shop and no tea or coffee for first class. Drat.

Despite the hullabaloo we got in to Glasgow only 30 minutes late. I looked at the sky - not too bad, and made my way to...Leeds Building Society. I had looked at my current account and decided I needed to top up from my savings for peace of mind. That done it was time for lunch. I was going to get some sort of bake from Greggs, but out of the corner of my eye I saw something that looked Scottish. Potato Scones for £1. Well why not. There were 6 in the pack. I put one in my mouth and... yuk. It didn't taste bad, but it was horribly bland. I did a Google to find what it was and it's called "tattie", which is potato and butter and flour I think. Never again.

It was starting to rain so I hot-footed it over to an underground station. Glasgow has a small circle line and it runs trains that look like sleeker versions of those that run on the Bakerloo line in London. Plenty of spare seats on this shopping Saturday so I guess it's not popular. I got off at the station for the science centre, my intention was to ascend the Glasgow Tower to get a birds eye vista of the city. I could see it from afar when I got out but I couldn't see any people through the glass windows. Hmm. I decided to check online. The last time I had checked this thing was going to be open. But the website now said "closed for essential maintenance". What a waste of a journey, and I wasn't interested in the science museum. I was flummoxed what to do. I had heard on a Guardian travel podcast that the Transport Museum was a good visit, but that was closed too. I went back to Central Station and there didn't seem to be many actual attractions for adults in Glasgow apart from Art Galleries. Eventually I saw a leaflet for the Mackintosh house at the Glasgow University. The university does itself no favours having different leaflets for their different attractions. I was rather confused, but pleased to see that the university was just across the park from my hostel. So off I went and the house is great. The art gallery attached was, well I find them all sort of dull, and the university tour was at 2 pm so in the faff of leaflets I had missed it. I would have liked to go on the tour because the architecture at the university is rather nice.

This left me in a slight grump to a went straight so the hostel to get some sleep. The park, it turned out was on a steep hill and the hostel was at the top of it, so that was a bit of a work out to end the day. I was helped up the hill by the bangra beats behind me from a mela being held in the park. It didn't look too busy to me, perhaps understandable given the drizzle.

I woke up two hours later and went walking for some dinner from the local Co-op, read a little (I was surprised to see two others in the common room with iPads) and ended the evening watching tv. The SYHA hostel was in ahuge and marvellous old town house in perhaps the poshest part of Glasgow, Park Circle, high above both the city centre and the West End. Despite the hint of a student vibe from the nearby university, the West End seemed unnaturally quiet given the proximity to the centre. Apparently this is due to the effect of the M8 motorway cutting the city in two.

The next morning and I found a leaflet for a Mackintosh and Glasgow self-led walking tour. This was great, as I was going to spend the morning walking around town clueless. the tour started at the Central Station and ended near the hostel so I did it in reverse, which was a bit confusing (e.g turn left when it says turn right). The most interesting buildings I saw were Mackintosh's Art School and Daily Record building and a red office block that at ground level is conservative and at the top is wildly imaginative. Because I was stopping and reading, I used up all my time and got to Queen Street Station for my train out of town with 15 mins to spare.

A nasty problem had become apparent on my walkabout. I bought an 8GB sd card for the trip and although it was really fast in operation, the start up time of the camera with it in was really slow. I mean REALLY slow, 20 seconds before I could take a picture. This meant taking a pic, turning it off to save battery and then turning it on again to take a pic was a interminable wait. I'm going to take the photos off and format the card tonight to see if that fixes it. If not I need to get to a camera shop. From a train, for example in 20 seconds, the moment is gone. Drat. At least I have a spare 2gb card that works fine so I don't need to hurry. [update - I did a full format of the card and that fixed it! Phew, but I would have thought I wouldn't need to do that with a Fujifilm branded card and a Fujifilm camera...]

The scenery on the train to Aberdeen was stunning. Perhaps this is a good point to set out my itinery:

London-Glasgow
Glasgow-Aberdeen
Aberdeen-Shetland (1day)
Shetland-Orkney (1day)
Orkney-Edinburgh (where I stay 3 day)
3 day guided tour to the Isle of Skye
Edinburgh to Bergen (flight to Norway)
Bergen to Flåm, heart of the Fjjords (4 days)
Flåm to Oslo (1 day)
Oslo to Gothenburg
Gothenburg to Berlin (3 days)
Berlin to Paris
Paris to London.

In summary, I'm going to Norway via Scotland and coming back via land.

So the lowlands of Scotland was all rolling hills and valleys and rivers and coast. I didn't have a window seat and the camera situation made it hard to take pics, but I got a couple. At Aberdeen it was spitting train but I bet and won that it wouldn't last. I had a self-led walking tour for Aberdeen too and set to it. This time I unintentionally went the wrong way and started at the end point of the tour again. This tour was was much harder to read in reverse because the directions were written in paragraphs with a series of turns in each. But I did it, and although the "granite city" was small in area, it was pretty spectacular, in particular the Marischal College was stunning. With time to spare I went to M&S to buy dinner for the boat and suddenly it was nearly 4pm, check-in time. I made my way down to the harbour but the pedestrian signs ended some way before it. In sight, but not at the terminal. A slightly drunk man outside a nearby man set me the right way and I eventually followed a family dragging suitcases. Inside the harbour gates it started to rain so I decided to hot foot it, and here I am at sea. The boat arrives at 07:30 so I'll be having an early night tonight I think. Just need to figure out how to upload this...

Test of Blogsy

This is a test blog from my iPad...

I don't know why I didn't think of doing this before. I moved my extension cord from in front of my wardrobe where I could step on the cable, to under the bed and the sockets by the window. Neat.

Neater still is this blog editor Blogsy. I'm still getting my head around it, but what I've learned so far has made one decision for me. This iPad is coming on holiday with me for light blog writing duties. If I use it for an hour every couple of days, say when I'm on the train between destinations, I wonder, I might not to charge it at all. Hmm, well I'll take the charger anyway.

A good test, I think, tonight I'll see if I can complete the blogging about my last holiday. I suspect that may be doable, just writing this entry has been so friction free. I had no idea that writing on a glass screen could be so easy and so fast.

Schilthorn and Brienz

I finally made it up to Piz Gloria on Saturday morning around 9am (to take advantage of a cheaper "early bird" fare). I could see it on the cable car up and as the car reached the summit... Well this is what I saw:


I think that's Mont Blanc in the distance. Just a bit difficult to make out though the... Cloud!!!!

I stayed for longer than I intended. It seemed that cloud was forming below and rising up. Occasionally it would break. It did lift in the end, enabling this Piz Gloria panorama:


Astounding. The tallest mountain is Junfraujoch. Click to enlarge.

Back down I was dismayed to find that the next ferry up the Brienersee was only 15 minutes away, and I had no bike. I was going to cycle back from Brienz. I thought maybe I would ride over the back over the mountains and then down to Interlaken from Grindelwald. The hostel was in Bönigen, the first stop of the ferry, so I hot footed back there and was making good progress but was dismayed again to see reception was closed till 2 pm, and then as I walked out dejected (toot toot) the boat sailed slowly past. Miserable, I decided to walk to Bönigen proper to find where the boat dock was. To my suprise it was next to a lovely campsite and swimming area, people did swim in the lake after all. Drat. I would have if I'd had the time, and if the bit of shore next to the hostel wasn't monopolised by school kids.

Anyway, I decided to take the next boat. I went back to the hostel and the hire bikes were really nice light mountain bikes. I was surpised. Also, to delight me, the next train was an old style paddle boat. It's great when those come into harbour and everyone comes out and waves. Here's a picture of the exposed pistons for the paddles:


I decided to ride back along the lake shore - cycle route 8. Cycle route it says... Well, out of Brienz I came to a sign in German. It said s-something for 2km. I guess it meant steep, and thank goodness I had 24 gears because it was crazy. I reckon I must have climbed halfway up the mountain. The top seemed very close at least. At the top it was clear where I was: Gleissbach. See photo below of the waterfall there:


After that was down hill to Istewald, then ANOTHER 2km uphill stretch, then a wicked fast downhill to Bönigen and flat lakeside to Interlaken.

Something great here is the apparent low risk of bike theft. You just lock the rear wheel to the frame and that's it. My bike just had a spoke lock. Supremely easy to use. I used it in Interlaken to buy the Cuckoo clock and then rode to the end of town and then south, ending up in historic Matten. One old chalet there had 1666 engraved on it. Cripes! Matten, it turned out, was where all the backpackers and adventure sports activites where. A real youth vibe on the street. I was oblivious to this from my lakeside retreat in sleepy Bönigen!

I watched Ghana scrape past the USA that evening. Bless the clueless Americans watching it with me. Only at the end did they figure out they had lost. They cheered at the action replays and the match summary. "why aren't they showing the score". I decided not to condescend and point out that E.-U is French abbreviation for US. Well done Ghana anyway.

I will only say this about my train ride to Martigny. If you see a train with unusually large windows, that suggests you should take it and see where it goes. Jaw dropping landscape from Thun to Brig. I'm now on an Intercity from Brig to Martigny in the middle of a huge u-shaped valley.


In Brig station the signs were in German and... Italiano! I'm heading south! The forecast in Chamonix is not good, so I'll make sure I do Mont Blanc early if I can.

Faulhorn fail and other adventures!

I woke up early to beat the crowds and well there were still some crowds. In fact the train was mostly full. I think having been here a few days that the (middle-class/wealthy looking) Indians, Koreans, Chinese and Japanese must be about 50% of the crowd here, good job by the tourist authorities.

Anyway, I got the train the Grindewald. I must have mis-read, but I thought that village was meant to be car-free. You could have fooled me, not just delivery vans, but plenty if regular cars. Anyway Viewranger (again!) pointed me the right way for the cable car station to First where I planned to walk, or is the right term "hike" up to Faulhorn, an Alpine peak with a walking trail to the top. The view from First is amazing.


It seemed to start off badly. It was warmer that I expected. There was no way I could wear my jacket again but my tee shirt had no collar. I was convinced (wrongly) that despite my suncream, I'd get burned (instead the suncream has worked really well). Anyway, off I went and a few dozen other walkers if all ages. I looked in the distance and could see the Faulhorn. Unlike the pictures on Google Earth, it was covered in snow.

It was fairly ardous but I made it to Bachaplsee which is a very pretty glacial lake. On the way there I noticed there was a lot of unmelted snow about and after the lake it blocked the path. Bless my walking shoes, but they are more designer than designed for hiking and they stuggled. When I saw this then, I knew I had to give up.


Bascically the rest of the path was covered in snow.I could see walkers with proper boots and walking poles getting through but I had little more than glorifed trainers. Disapponting. Nevermind, I turned tail and set off down to Grindewald. This path took me down a glacial valley, which, when I looked at it seemed obviously to be a ski slope. At the end of it was another spectacular vista of the mountains.

I walked down to Waldspitz, where I had a much needed mineral water and chocolate cake. Then I took the harder shorter route down to Bort. It was all steps down through a steep sort of field of bushes and flowers. There were lots of little signs in German explaining what the plants were. I don't speak German, but at the bottom it turned into a meadow. Speechless.


At Bort I decided to take a Trottibike that's a large scooter with brakes down to Grindewald. I think it's primarily meant for children, but adults are allowed too. I think for a light child it must be fun. The brakes would be strong and the speed on the steep downhill manageable. With a heavy man aboard it was terrifying. I had to use all my bike skills to keep upright and the a speed would go up so quickly it was positively dangerous. Oh and did I saw they had cars in Grindewald. Cripes.


At the bottom I had to return the trotti to Grindewald station. So I looked for a sign, found none and went to the train station. They were shrugged shoulders unhelpful so I figured it had to be the cable car station. The upshot of this was that I missed the train back to Lauterbrunnen for my 2nd attempt at the Schilthorn.

I wasn't sure what to do so I looked at my map. I remebered seeing another cable car that morning. Where did it go? Well it went to Mannlichen (tall mountain great view) and from there the Wengen (so pretty, great views) which is one stop from Lauterbrunnen. Frantic checking of timetables said that it would be tight, but I might make it. I didn't. The problem was I was going to a play that evening. And the timing from Wengen was just too late. I had a look at the Schilthorn entrance and it seemed the cable car was shut anyway.

So I went straight to the play. This years premier showing of Tell. That's William Tell. It's the national legend of the creation of Switzerland and it's liberation from Austrian rule. The story is a bit complex to tell, but basically the Austians were treating the Swiss badly and made Tell try to shoot an apple off the head if his son. Tell was so skilfull he suceeded but later assasinaywd the Austrian prince who made him do it, sparking a revolution and Swiss independence. The booklet accompanying said thatt he story was inspriration for many other struggles for freedom like the Americans and the Palestinians. I choked a little when I saw the comparison to the Americans, little squabble over money, hardly a tyranny, but there you go.


There were some intervals acts of Swiss flag waving. I'll upload a YouTube video. It was impressive, although the Victorians have something to answer for, giving the world lots of slightly silly 'tradtional' costumes.

I was going to go to Lucerne the next day but I could not be bothered. I had a day off and walked into Town to look around. There wasn't much to see. A big alpine meadow and a tourist strip. I did see a cuckoo shop though. I bought one yesterday and it is being shipped to England.

Something I didn't see 7 years ago was the bikes. There were mire cyclists than car drivers in town. I should have hired one for the day but I decided not yet. I sat by the lake for an hour and then felt bored. At that point I should have grabbed a train to Lucerne for a late afternoon sightsee, bit instead I took a train to Thun for a boat trip back. That was foolishly unplanned and although I got to ride on a paddle steamer (toot toot!). I had to get off after only 2 stops as the boat terminated well before Interlaken. So fun but a bit of a wasted day. I got rest though.

Next day was cycle hire day. A sense of missing out on the fun was bulding in me. I now (I'm on the train to Martigny) realise that all the trains taking me up the mountains have bike racks. I should have hired a bike taken a train up and blasted down.

But I opened the window and the sky was clear. Not a cloud. That meant only one thing. Shilthorn.