Re Rebus Randomis
Venice, 21 May 2010
A Few Random Things –
Booking accommodation on-line contains a lot of guess work and considerable faith. I’ve not had a problem, so have stuck with the one on-line booking company. I should say I haven’t had a problem this trip either; just a couple of surprises.
The hotel in Rome was close to the main station – Termini – so I set out on foot to find it, having come in from the airport by train. I found the street all right. It was only a short block from the Termini entrance. But it took some help to find the hotel. I was looking for a ‘regular’ hotel, i.e. a hotel-looking entrance and a foyer of some sort. What I eventually found was a very unassuming entrance to a block of apartments. And it was no swanky entrance, as you might imagine in a river-side apartment block in Melbourne! It was a large, stone-floored, cavernous entry with nothing but a single, caged lift half-way along. There were a few ‘hotels’ inside – on different floors, all simply a few apartments combined.
Mine was on the fifth floor. It seemed to consist of three of the four apartments coming off the landing. The ‘foyer’ was just inside one of the
doors and was about as big as an average entry hall of a three bedroom house. The continental breakfast, part of the deal, consisted of taking a voucher across the road to a small cafe and collecting a cappuccino and a croissant in a paper napkin, which, if you were lucky, you could eat sitting at a bench; otherwise you stood around like many others. (A cappuccino in Italy is essentially a flat white in our terms, with a little froth on top – about as much as you might get from one of the designer tops we often get on flat whites gone wrong. It all certainly exuded dodgy on first encounter; but it all worked. The neighbourhood seemed a mix of levels: lots of immigrants, a few students and some suited folk. The Termini location was perfect for easy access to any direction of sights.
I almost messed up in Venice by aiming for an area that I had thought was the main station. It was also the place where I would catch the bus to Ljubljana. Fortunately, I double checked just before committing. That was when I discovered Venice was such an island half way across the bay. I had an instant image of James and Vesper racing around St Mark’s and decided that’s where I needed to be. To my pleasant surprise, I ended up with a very recently renovated hotel in a pretty fancy little street just metres from the St Mark Basin. The hotel is undoubtedly compact. You need to be somewhat contortionist to manage the bathroom, including the shower; but it’s all new, extremely pleasant and quite delightful.
There’s no shortage of tourists. I had thought that May might be way ahead of the tourist rush; and it might be. But if it is, I’d hate to be sight-seeing and queuing in July or August. I suppose it was really only the Vatican Museums and St Peter’s where waits were over the hour. Most other places have been pretty straight-forward, although I returned to St Mark’s this morning for another visit and was confronted by a queue at least four times the length of yesterday’s. I must have struck it lucky yesterday. I’ll try my luck again tomorrow.
There are a lot of Indian tourists – invariably families travelling by themselves: Mum, Dad and two or three kids, sometimes with grandparents or other extended family. I was sitting on the steps of the Trevi Fountain, when a boy of about 13 next to me caught my attention.
“Are you a Roman?” he asked boldly.
I felt almost guilty in having to disappoint him, “No, I’m Australian.”
“I’m Indian,” was the rapid and proud response.
“Oh, where do you live?”
“Kolkata.”
“You speak English very well.”
“Yes, I learn it at school.
And so we went on to the bemusement or amusement of his parents and big sister. I think it might have been more to her embarrassment.
I have made a distinction in a few places between Classical or Ancient Rome and Christian Rome. There is also a blending of the two. You couldn’t seem to go anywhere amongst the ruins of Classical Rome without finding that some Pope or other had laid claim by consecrating it, blessing it, taking possession of it or declaring it sacred in some way. Inscriptions attesting to Pont Max (Pontifex Maximus) adorn triumphal arches of Roman emperors, theatres, the Colosseum, the column of Marcus Aurelius etc...More understandably, anything in Christian times got an inscription, such as the Trevi Fountain. There’s no escaping Papal Rome.
Motorcyclist Deaths
It’s always devastating to hear or read about yet another motorcyclist death. While it’s no less tragic than any other road death, it permeates you, as a fellow motorcyclist, with a foreboding resonance. It’s both rending and chilling.
The revelation that the motorcyclist was powerless to avoid the impact, such as when a vehicle (or other obstacle, for that matter) appears in front as suddenly as the unexpected vision of the shadowy scythe, is haunting enough; but it’s almost comforting in comparison to discovering that the motorcyclist had it in his or her power to avoid the meeting, but, in effect, abdicated power and control.
It’s sad that there are always “genuine” accidents, where a driver momentarily makes a fatal mistake – often a once-only aberration. The outcome, with its horror and tragedy, still devastates all parties and their families.
But how much more frustrating, painful and tormenting for those left to cope is the totally avoidable tragedy. I’m putting aside the incident where only the motorcycle is involved (no other vehicle, animal or obstacle) – no less tragic, by any means – but likely attributable to the motorcyclist losing rather than abdicating control.
All too often there is an apparent element of the abdication in reports of motorcyclist deaths. This clearly seemed to be the case yesterday just
outside the ACT. There’ve also been strong indications that it was present in other motorcyclist deaths in and around the ACT.
There are so many stupidities that we motorcyclists can easily avoid; stupidities that add significantly to the likelihood of an early encounter with our scythe-bearing nemesis. So why do many of us ignore them, even embrace them, as if they will transform us into some latter day, impregnable Ghost Rider?
We often hear the adage “ride to the conditions!” Do we do that? Do we all have the same understanding of the riding ‘conditions’?
Even within the parameters of the same weather conditions, the riding ‘conditions’ are vastly different on the city or suburban road to what they are on the motorway to what they are on the country back road to what they are at dawn or dusk to what they are with a low rising or setting sun, to what they are in day or night to what they are on weekdays to what they are on weekends to what they are ......
Well, I’ll let you finish. Actually, I can’t even do that. There’s no finish. The list is endless. The ‘conditions’ change constantly anywhere and everywhere on any and every day.
Horoscopes
I’m not seriously into horoscopes or astrology of any kind. In fact, I don’t think I’d even read a horoscope until about five years ago. That was when my wife decided that there were better pickings out there and took off in search of them. Well, with one of them! I must have thought or hoped that my future journey was surely written somewhere. I just needed to find it. I started reading horoscopes. It didn’t take long to discover they mostly had ambiguous, two-way bets. Sometimes I was encouraged to find a clearer, more positive outlook. But then, I was just as often depressed by peeking at my new-life-seeking wife’s horoscope – only to find it sounded better than mine!
However, I think I have just had a fillip in my belief in astrology. It might be telling me something after all. Having a coffee this morning at the Mall, while waiting for the first service of my new F800GS, which I purchased last week, I was paging through the Sydney Daily Telegraph. My horoscope for today told me the following:
Cancer: Events of the last week have changed the way you see things, probably forever. Boundaries have been crossed in such a way that there is now no return, no way of going back. It is increasingly clear that recent choices, made either by you or people close to you, are not negotiable. The only route is forward with no looking back. You should now be able to appreciate that those things, people, situations and environments that have survived the journey with you so far, have proved they are of real substance in your life - and likely to last for the long term. 
Wow! That certainly woke me up. Maybe there really are prospective alignments of stars.
Events of the last week included buying a new, dual purpose (on-road and off-road) F800GS (see photo opposite and at the end ofMy Bikes page). Boundaries have been crossed from road riding (as on my Big Trip North) to a future of more adventure riding. The choices are not negotiable. It has to be lots of off-road riding. The only route forward is to the roads and adventures I had to forego on my recent trip, especially having dropped the road bike in thick dirt on the William Creek to Coober Pedy Road. I have no doubt that all those factors that have contributed to this situation have proved themselves and will last for the long term. I collected my bike from the service with a renewed enthusiasm and commitment.
I didn’t read my wife’s horoscope. In fact, I stopped doing that a while ago.
.India and Racism
It’s interesting that India seems to love stirring the racism pot at any opportunity. It’s as though racism is a phenomenon exclusively exhibited by whites against non-whites. Tragically, racism is much more pervasive than that. And it’s exhibited, along with its frequent travelling companion – religious bigotry – extensively in so many countries that are often the first to cry ‘wolf’ when an issue arises involving Caucasians. I hope I’m not being too paranoid in saying this.
India’s current foray into racism controversy has been sparked by the India students issue and the aftermath of the 4 Corners ‘exposé’ of corruption in relevant migration and student sectors. (As an aside, I feel a need to say that, while I can easily believe and be influenced by 4 Corners, I have also been appalled, when I was familiar with the subject matter, at how they can subtly and not so subtly manipulate interviews.)
The Indian media, at least at the ‘popular’ program level, seems to be getting into the issue with a vengeance. It caught my attention partly because I’ve seen it all before at first hand. I was in Mumbai at the time of the controversy about a minor stoush on the UK Celebrity House TV show between Bollywood star Shilpa Shetty and UK contestant Jade Goody. That was 2007.The Indian media had a field day with the racism issue, but it was deeply split between those who wanted to stir the racism pot (probably the ‘popular’ segment) and many whose commentary articles and editorials decried the racism accusations, pointing to India’s own dubious record (their own words). Now we might be seeing the same thing all over. I haven’t delved into the Indian Media this time, but the ABC 4 Corners undercover correspondent has put some balance into the issue with her reported comments. Let’s hope the balance filters through to all layers of media in both countries.
Getting balance into the discussion of the issues doesn’t mean sweeping racism or religious bigotry under the carpet where they might exist. We have both in our society and we need to continue to address them. But seeing everything through racism tinted glasses doesn’t help any sensible, worthwhile cause.
Marque of Distinction
In the Weekend Australian’s Magazine today, there’s a heading ‘Marque of Distinction.’ It turned out to be an article about a restaurant in Hobart called Marque IV. But my mind had immediately focussed on another purported marque of distinction – the great Bavarian marque of the BMW. I wondered spontaneously if it still is a marque of distinction. MyF800ST is off the road... again. Has been for a couple of weeks. Parts are needed from Bavaria. It takes a minimum of two weeks to fly vital parts from Munich to Canberra. Must be a single engine biplane. But then, they usually take longer, so who knows. To add injury to insult, this is the second time the bike has had exactly the same problem, namely, a ‘collapse’ (Dealer’s description; not mine) of the back bearings. Are we talking about German engineering? Or does BMW get everything manufactured these days in Whereverstan? How can the back bearings collapse...twice? This comes hot on the heels of four total electronic failures – first put down to battery collapses; then, in disbelief that four batteries in a row could collapse, to an underlying electronic problem; then, back to battery collapses! And to think I still covet an F800GS! Am I a slow learner?
Family Interest in You
Having set up my web site - and blog, I would have thought immediate family members might have been the most interested to see what I'm up to. I guess that really was wishful thinking.
If you're reading this, you will have noticed - and hopefully identified - Eragon on his dragon, Saphira. You might have even delved into the Fireside page and discovered the reason why I chose such a banner for my web site.
I have one special family member living with me – my 20 yr old stepdaughter, Natalie.
I just got some visitor cards printed. I would have called them business cards if it were not for the fact I’m retired. They replicate the design of my web site. Just a bit of fun to drop around on tours.
Nat’s first comment on my excitedly showing them to her – the very first person to see them (apart from the printers) was “who’s that on the camel?”
The camel?
Hasn’t she even looked at the web site, let alone read the Fireside page – or any page?
The camel?
Even my four year old granddaughter is impressed, because she thinks grandpa is a dragon catcher.
The camel?
No, Nat, it’s not a camel.
Maybe she might even open the site now she has a card with the URL on it.
Then, again, I am a wishful thinker.
The Faux Apology
It’s the ‘apology’ that you offer when you really do not want to make an apology. So you resort to the faux apology.
It usually goes something like this: The company/institution/we/I (depending on who or what is making the faux apology) is/are sorry for any offence caused/if anyone was offended/if you were offended ...etc., depending on how broad or narrow is the aim of the faux apology.
People who resort to the faux apology, for the most part, fall into one or other – or possibly both – of two categories.
In one category, are those who are too proud or too stubborn or too arrogant or too bloody-minded to apologise. It’s simply not in their character or their perceived business, professional or personal needs to contemplate apologising for anything that they might have said, implied, written or done.
In the other category, are those who, to resort to a much over-used cliché, just don’t get it. They have no real understanding or appreciation of how inappropriate or unwarranted or unprofessional their words or conduct has been.
As a general phenomenon, when politicians or professional representatives resort to the faux apology (without suggesting they necessarily do so), they fall into the first category. Although, having said that, a couple of more notorious federal backbenchers come to mind who obviously have at least one foot in the second category.
Again, as a general phenomenon, when anyone from the Australian rugby league establishment resorts to the faux apology (without suggesting they all necessarily do so – I think their ceo is an exception, but possibly the only one), they fall into the second category.
The bottom line is that a faux apology is a faux apology is a faux apology. No amount of repeating it or of uttering it with increasing sincerity will ever make it a real apology.
R1200GS
Is there something about riders of the famed boxer, the R1200GS, that requires them to be reminded which way is up? This photo was taken off Garema Place in Canberra, so we have such a rider in our home town!
Angels and Demons
I saw Angels and Demons today. I thought the title was some form of symbolistic steganograph intended to mean Motorcyclists and 4x4 Drivers. Not so. That must have been a motorcyclist’s perception.
Would you believe that I was the only person in the cinema? Not another soul. It was a novel experience. The only thing missing was a remote control.
Great movie, without necessarily being one of movies’ greats. The plot might be preposterous, but that hardly separates it from most of the movies we watch. It was a better movie than The Da Vinci Code, although I thought The Da Vinci Code was a better book than Angels and Demons. I think the judgement of ‘better’ relates to the appropriateness of the medium. The Code was perhaps a little more cerebral, so lent itself better to a read. Angels was a more of a rollickingly good yarn, so came across well as a movie.
I recalled reading in a review that the actor who plays the Camerlengo did a fine job, but I forgot who it was. I didn’t recognise him at first. It took several minutes to realise that it was Ewan McGregor – of some motorcycling fame. I might have been put off the scent by the Irish accent coming from a Scotsman – an accent he maintains perfectly throughout the movie. Perhaps it’s all just Celtic. It certainly was a ‘long way round’ for him to go from motorcycling across Kazakhstan to running the Papacy between Popes. I though he did a good job (at acting, I mean).
I was also impressed by Stellan Skarsgård. He’s an actor that I have a bit of time for. The last time I had seen him was when I recently watched Mamma Mia! with my 4 year old granddaughter. (OK, I had seen it before at the cinema!). He played one of the three potential Dads. His character was a free-spirited, adventurous, larrikin. It was pretty amazing to see him so soon afterwards in Angels as a stern, cold, ideological bureaucrat. It’s not every movie star who can do that. I was reminded of Meryl Streep, also in that category, who played the bright, cheery, vibrant, romantic mother in Mamma Mia!; and whom I recently saw as the obsessive, unforgiving, self-possessed accuser in Doubt.
All in all, Angels was a thoroughly enjoyable movie. Even though I had read the book a couple of years ago, I still felt the constant suspense as the story pounded along; and had even forgotten the last pre-denouement twist. And at the end, feeling well satiated, I even had a teary eye and a touch of the sniffles – but I had that too at the end of Mamma Mia!.
Communication on the Road
Setting up a web site – and adding a blog – and adding a Twitter account – suggest taking on a certain degree of responsibility. As I said before, it’s very frustrating to go to a site and find it’s out of date. I found that out when recently researching for my trip north in a month. In my case, it means the necessity of updating (and blogging and tweeting) on the run – or at least ‘on the road.’ Otherwise, tour accounts would be all historical ones. Tours undertaken before the site was launched (27 May 2009) will be historical, by definition. But it would be nice to keep interested readers up to date with progress and reactions when touring. This means instant communication. Easier said than done. I will start a page on this to benefit from comments and to share my solutions. For now, I have already bought a mini notebook (HP Mini 1109TU). I still have to get an external CD drive to load it up with what I need. Then there’s the question of Internet access. Do I get a wireless modem that connects to mobile network (and, if so, pre-paid or plan) or use my mobile phone as a modem? I need something as I’m unlikely to be staying in hotels with wireless access. I can probably drop into McDonald’s outlets that are participating in a Telstra program of free access. But that won’t always be practicable. Lots of options. Just need to pin down the best; and load up software. At least, I feel I’m getting there.
