A 2-metre long Blue Shark has become trapped today in a popular diving spot in Wellington Harbour.
The shark, which Conservation Department officials estimate to be a young adult, a female and importantly, healthy, is thought to have become trapped after finding it's way under the tarpaulin which surrounds the 100sq metre diving spot.
The tarp is designed to keep pollution and debris from the wider harbour and port away from swimmer and divers. There is a 5-metre gap at between the bottom of the tarp, and the harbour floor, which is thought to be the entry route for the shark. It is also hoped that this will be the exit.
Conservation Department Partnership Ranger, Amy Brasch, says that the plan is to wait for the tide to fall, and hope that the shark finds her own way out. If this fails, their Plan B is to lower bait to the bottom of the water, to show the shark that an exit is available.
Brady, a 20-year old Auckland native often dives in this spot during the summer. He saw a local news TV report, and decided to come and see if he could spot a shark. Though he has seen sharks before, the opportunity that this accident has created to see a shark at such close proximity is one he says he could not miss. However, he also added that he might think twice about swimming here again, in case the incident repeats itself.
Ms. Brasch agrees that this unfortunate incidents creates a great opportunity for the public to see their local wildlife, and hopefully understand the sealife that lives in their harbour a little better.
Blue Sharks are common in the waters around New Zealand, though this is the first time one has become trapped in a situation such as this.
Unfortunately it is not the first time that wildlife has become stuck in this spot. Manta Rays are a common sight here, and even local Penguins have been known to find their way past the blue tarpaulin.
Thursday, 9 April 2015
Sunday, 15 February 2015
Kitzhaber Resignation Days After Denial
The Guardian and the Oregonian have both described the events of the past week "surreal". I have to say that I agree, though for more personal reasons. I used to often eat lunch alongside Kitzhaber and his team of officials, whilst I studied as an exchange Undergraduate at Willamette University. Our dinning hall was quite literally across the street from the State Capitol, and as a result of the high quality lunch on offer, many State officials including the Governor himself would often join staff and students for a bite.
I have therefore associated Kitzhaber, not only with his reforms of Oregon Medicaid, but as the silver haired, moustachioed man in front of me in the sandwich line. I would not have imagined the man I saw to have been embroiled in such political upset. I was clearly naïve.
However, he is, and John Kitzhaber will cease to be Governor of the State of Oregon on Wednesday. His resignation comes after months of pressure, pertaining to allegations of corruption involving his fiancé.
The 67-year old had recently been sworn in for a historic 4th term under Salem's Golden Pioneer, but controversy over both unpaid and paid roles given to Cylvia Hayes, including as Clean Energy and Economic advisor to Kitzhaber's office has led to this sudden resignation.
Hayes has previously been criticised for taking payment to marry an Ethiopian man in 1997, in order for him to attain US citizenship. In the same year, she had also been involved in a plan to buy property in Okanogan, WA, for the purpose of growing Cannabis. Importantly, these events took place years before Hayes met the long-standing Oregon politician, and though they may be adjudged to be indicative of her character, they are not directly relevant to the current case.
Ellen Rosenblum, Oregon's Attorney General has launched a criminal investigation into the possibility of a conflict of interest due to Hayes' roles within government. She has also demanded the realise of emails between Kitzhaber and Hayes. This move prompted Kitzhaber to attempt to delete many thousands of emails, according to The Willamette Week. Though the request was described as "routine" by an aide, this is obviously put into question due to the ongoing allegations of improper behaviour between the two.
Most interestingly, it seems as if Gov. Kitzhaber's exit was significantly more pushed than he would have liked. Although he was seen to be making moves towards this decision last week, by calling Secretary of State, Kate Brown, back from Washington, it then transpired that he had told Brown that he would not resign. However, as even Democratic Speaker of the House, Tina Kotek publicly announced that she thought resignation was called for, and the pressure on Kitzhaber rose, he fell.
But the stern looking man I knew from my days in Oregon, did not fall without dispatching a parting blow to the media, and his colleagues in Salem. Though he did not release this statement in person, it was his message was clear and unabashed.
He remarked that "it is deeply troubling to me to realize that we have come to a place in the history of this great state of ours where a person can be charged, tried, convicted and sentenced by the media with no due process and no independent verification of the allegations involved. But even more troubling -- and on a very personal level as someone who has given 35 years of public service to Oregon -- is that so many of my former allies in common cause have been willing to simply accept this judgment at its face value."
This nod to the ongoing investigation by Attorney General Rosenblum perhaps indicates that he believe he may be found innocent. Whatever the verdict may be, it is notable that is ire lies with his Democrat co-workers, who perhaps too quickly sided with the allegations of wrongdoing, rather than back their leader. Such a confident and long serving politician such as Kitzhaber might have been expected to put up more of a fight in the face of these allegations. However, it is clear that with little support in the House, even from his own side, this stand would have been short lived.
Unfortunate though it is that the longest serving Oregon Governor has left in a potential maelstrom of his own making, investigations like this do not often allow for continued and focused governance, and therefore his move to resign is seen by most as a correct decision.
It also opens the door for Oregon to maintain its mantel as one of the country's most progressive States. Kitzhaber's replacement under Oregon law will be the current Secretary of State, Kate Brown. She is already one of the most high profile LGBT women elected to a US government position, and with her ascension to Governorship, she will become the first self-identifying Bisexual leader of any State of the Union. She will join Tammy Baldwin, Senator for Wisconsin, as one of the highest positioned elected officials, self-identified as LGBT.
This may be a difficult time for Oregon, and it will certainly be a painful time for Mr Kitzhaber and Ms. Hayes. However, it is also an exciting time for Oregon, for Secretary Brown, and for the LGBT community in Oregon, and the Pacific-Northwest more generally.
I hope she succeeds, and I hope to see her continuing Kitzhaber's tradition of dining at Willamette. Maybe I'll even get the chance to follow her in the sandwich line, one day.
Wednesday, 11 February 2015
New Zealand Post Cuts Delivery to 3 Days
In an announcement today, the Chief Operating Officer of NZ Post's Mail and Communications, Ashley Smout revealed that from as early as July, residents of urban centres should expect mail deliveries on only three days of the week.
This move was described as a "priority" for NZ Post, and is expected to have very little noticeable effect on residents. With a delivery target of three days for mail remaining, it is clear that the national postal organisation are confident that this move will not impact customers.
Mr Smout added that their priority services and courier parcel delivery will continue on a daily basis, so residents should continue to check mail boxes regularly. It is also notable that this change will only affect urban communities, so rural New Zealanders will not be affected at this point.
It is unclear whether these changes will ever extend to more rural communities, but with mail rates dropping, and as Mr Smout argues that most residencies only receive mail every three days (hence the current changes), it is not impossible that such changes will occur.
In a statement from the Postal Worker's Union of Aotearoa, spokesperson Graeme Clarke highlighted the issue of privatisation and profit. This cut is seen by Mr Clarke in the context of wider restructuring by NZ Post in order to "maximise profits", and furthermore, the Union sees the move as a "money grab".
The restructuring Clarke refers to led to the down-scaling of dozens of NZ Post offices and KiwiBank stores in 2011, (http://www.stuff.co.nz/business/industries/4999517/NZ-Post-confirms-shop-closures) and the closure of Dunedin Mail Processing Centre in 2013 (http://www.odt.co.nz/news/dunedin/262599/nz-post-cuts-new-blow-city-economy).
These cuts may be seen as necessary by NZ Post, but are clearly seen by local activists, and national Unions as an attack on jobs in the name of profit.
Mr Clarke even went as far to say that this latest move was "encouraging privatisation". It is clear that the livelihood of postal workers is the concern for Clarke and his Union, and the cut to delivery days, whether for all mail or just some, is clearly a threat to workers.
Clarke is not alone in his protestations. Victor Billot, writing after the closures in Dunedin, declared that "The closing of the retail outlets around the country was a trial run for the wholesale dismantling of the postal service". (http://www.odt.co.nz/opinion/opinion/263171/opinion-nz-post-ours-you-wouldnt-know-it)
Surely today's announcement only adds fuel to this claim.
In the Internet age, Postal services are perhaps seen as redundant. In the UK, many local Post Offices have been closed in recent years, due to a "drop in income" (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22494919). This may seem like a logical move, in terms of modern business. But the question that must be asked, both in the UK and NZ, is whether our postal services should be run as money spinners, or as a public service.
As Mr Billot put it in his Otago Daily Times article, "This is about jobs, services and the responsibility of a public enterprise to the public." It is about public mail delivery, that does not charge extra for a fast delivery, but runs a competent service to all residents, no matter where they may live.
In the UK, the closures of rural post offices began protests all over the country, and despite the promise to keep 99% of the population within a 3 mile radius of such a service, Parliament figures show that there are nearly 3,000 less branches in 2014, than at the turn of the century. This is part of a decrease of nearly 7,000 branches nationally. (http://www.parliament.uk/Templates/BriefingPapers/Pages/BPPdfDownload.aspx?bp-id=sn02585)
Whilst the scale of the change is smaller, at least currently, in New Zealand, the Postal Worker's Union of Aotearoa is right to speak up about today's change. It signals the next step in a wider shrinking of the postal service, which can be seen as a cut in public services, along the lines of austerity worldwide.
N.B. I'm having some issues with hyperlinking to sources for some reason, so I have just left the links in the text. Apologies for this, I will work on it!
This move was described as a "priority" for NZ Post, and is expected to have very little noticeable effect on residents. With a delivery target of three days for mail remaining, it is clear that the national postal organisation are confident that this move will not impact customers.
Mr Smout added that their priority services and courier parcel delivery will continue on a daily basis, so residents should continue to check mail boxes regularly. It is also notable that this change will only affect urban communities, so rural New Zealanders will not be affected at this point.
It is unclear whether these changes will ever extend to more rural communities, but with mail rates dropping, and as Mr Smout argues that most residencies only receive mail every three days (hence the current changes), it is not impossible that such changes will occur.
In a statement from the Postal Worker's Union of Aotearoa, spokesperson Graeme Clarke highlighted the issue of privatisation and profit. This cut is seen by Mr Clarke in the context of wider restructuring by NZ Post in order to "maximise profits", and furthermore, the Union sees the move as a "money grab".
The restructuring Clarke refers to led to the down-scaling of dozens of NZ Post offices and KiwiBank stores in 2011, (http://www.stuff.co.nz/business/industries/4999517/NZ-Post-confirms-shop-closures) and the closure of Dunedin Mail Processing Centre in 2013 (http://www.odt.co.nz/news/dunedin/262599/nz-post-cuts-new-blow-city-economy).
These cuts may be seen as necessary by NZ Post, but are clearly seen by local activists, and national Unions as an attack on jobs in the name of profit.
Mr Clarke even went as far to say that this latest move was "encouraging privatisation". It is clear that the livelihood of postal workers is the concern for Clarke and his Union, and the cut to delivery days, whether for all mail or just some, is clearly a threat to workers.
Clarke is not alone in his protestations. Victor Billot, writing after the closures in Dunedin, declared that "The closing of the retail outlets around the country was a trial run for the wholesale dismantling of the postal service". (http://www.odt.co.nz/opinion/opinion/263171/opinion-nz-post-ours-you-wouldnt-know-it)
Surely today's announcement only adds fuel to this claim.
In the Internet age, Postal services are perhaps seen as redundant. In the UK, many local Post Offices have been closed in recent years, due to a "drop in income" (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22494919). This may seem like a logical move, in terms of modern business. But the question that must be asked, both in the UK and NZ, is whether our postal services should be run as money spinners, or as a public service.
As Mr Billot put it in his Otago Daily Times article, "This is about jobs, services and the responsibility of a public enterprise to the public." It is about public mail delivery, that does not charge extra for a fast delivery, but runs a competent service to all residents, no matter where they may live.
In the UK, the closures of rural post offices began protests all over the country, and despite the promise to keep 99% of the population within a 3 mile radius of such a service, Parliament figures show that there are nearly 3,000 less branches in 2014, than at the turn of the century. This is part of a decrease of nearly 7,000 branches nationally. (http://www.parliament.uk/Templates/BriefingPapers/Pages/BPPdfDownload.aspx?bp-id=sn02585)
Whilst the scale of the change is smaller, at least currently, in New Zealand, the Postal Worker's Union of Aotearoa is right to speak up about today's change. It signals the next step in a wider shrinking of the postal service, which can be seen as a cut in public services, along the lines of austerity worldwide.
N.B. I'm having some issues with hyperlinking to sources for some reason, so I have just left the links in the text. Apologies for this, I will work on it!
Saturday, 24 January 2015
Boyhood. Because Moments are Just, like, Constant
Richard Linklater's 12 year epic offers to track the youth of young Texan, Mason. It promises a lot.
Of course this film is a journey, a travelogue through time and space (the family's involved at the centre of the film move frequently, both geographically and in their formation). But seems more than that. It is a truthful effort to portray youth, and a more than decent amount of the troubles involved.
The time period over which the film is obviously the most focused on facet of the movie, and honesty, so it should be! 12 years is a long time normally, but in the world of film? Damn. That's a really long time. Most films usually take around a year or so to film, produce, and finish off. Not only must the contracting of the actors, several from childhood to adulthood, have been incredibly tough, but the effort on behalf of the actors, to stay focused on the role and story they are telling is truly impressive. They do a brilliant job, especially the children, Ellar Coltrane and Lorelei Linklater.
A crucial part of this story telling is found in the presentation of the images (obviously...), and the music which Linklater chooses to accompany these images.
As we as filmgoers have surely noticed, the quality of film images has improved ten-fold. Arguably, so has the music popularly consumed. Well, maybe...
Linklater could have attempted to review the images taken in 2002, and remastered them to near the quality of the images taken later. But he do not. And the visual reminder of the time passed is a true masterstroke, in my opinion. Similarly, the music is a great sonic cue which as well as conveying the mood of the characters as they grow up, casts us back to our feelings at the time that these songs were chart toppers. I for one can't help but think of my Year 8 form room, when a slightly younger Mason and his friends listen to Soulja Boy in the street.
These ideas and creative choices are what has led to such acclaim for Linklater and his team. They are what makes this film different, sure, but they are also what allows a film with a pretty ordinary plot become brilliant. Many of the things that one would expect in an American teen drama are present; underage drinking, light drug consumption, an absent father, and teenage troubles of break-ups and sibling rivalry. There's also a lot of the things that would be expected in a story told from the perspective of a mother in crisis, such as the incredibly touching scenes where the mother's mortality is confronted. The film manages to honestly and unashamedly capture family life.
This film could have been made with different actors for different ages, or hectic and brash costume and make-up changes (I'm looking at you, Benjamin Button). If it had done, it would not have been anywhere near as interesting. Maybe it would have been good, but surely not as good as it is with these courageous choices made.
This film gave me a lot. The story allowed me to reflect on my own life, and even taught me some lessons that my privileged upbringing maybe missed. That is truly where the beauty of this film lies. It is a tale of life, akin to Tree of Life, (a big statement, I'd say), that seeks to tell the tale of me life woven through many others. It achieves this, and much more. It tells an honest tale, delivered believably by a cast who all give world-beating performances.
There is a caveat, however. This film follows a Boyhood, and as a self-identified man, I perhaps am able to take more from this film that a female viewer might. I think their are realistic female characters included, such as Mason's sister. However it is an understandable complaint that this is yet another film centring on a young white male in America. Maybe Linklater should have stepped an inch further in his bravery, and followed a girlhood. That would be a very different film, but the argument is a valid one, that it may have given more. However, we must judge art on what it is, rather than what it is not (though sometimes the urge is otherwise, certainly and understandably).
Importantly, at least one scene, I don't want to ruin it for you, very nearly brought me to tears, on a plane (yeah, I saw it on a long flight). Now, I don't ever mind crying at films. But I do attempt to refrain from doing so on planes, simply for the comfort my neighbours. I can't imagine it would be too great for them to have to sit next to a blubbering wreck in the already strange situation that flying is. Certain scenes tested me to my very lip-trembling limit.
There's some incredibly touching moments here, and without the physical passing of time that this film centres around, they would not be nearly as powerful. If Linklater had used different actors, we would not have been able to connect with the characters so deeply. We would care less when we suddenly recognise a returning character. Instead, we greet an old friend.
Finally, gotta give a shout out to the awkward restaurant boss in the pink shirt. We all had a boss like that at the end of school, when we were trying to save some cash for uni/college. We all kinda hated them, but hey... They paid us! Great little inclusion, and performance. Same to the (slightly drunk) uncle. Gotta love 'em.
Of course this film is a journey, a travelogue through time and space (the family's involved at the centre of the film move frequently, both geographically and in their formation). But seems more than that. It is a truthful effort to portray youth, and a more than decent amount of the troubles involved.
The time period over which the film is obviously the most focused on facet of the movie, and honesty, so it should be! 12 years is a long time normally, but in the world of film? Damn. That's a really long time. Most films usually take around a year or so to film, produce, and finish off. Not only must the contracting of the actors, several from childhood to adulthood, have been incredibly tough, but the effort on behalf of the actors, to stay focused on the role and story they are telling is truly impressive. They do a brilliant job, especially the children, Ellar Coltrane and Lorelei Linklater.
A crucial part of this story telling is found in the presentation of the images (obviously...), and the music which Linklater chooses to accompany these images.
As we as filmgoers have surely noticed, the quality of film images has improved ten-fold. Arguably, so has the music popularly consumed. Well, maybe...
Linklater could have attempted to review the images taken in 2002, and remastered them to near the quality of the images taken later. But he do not. And the visual reminder of the time passed is a true masterstroke, in my opinion. Similarly, the music is a great sonic cue which as well as conveying the mood of the characters as they grow up, casts us back to our feelings at the time that these songs were chart toppers. I for one can't help but think of my Year 8 form room, when a slightly younger Mason and his friends listen to Soulja Boy in the street.
These ideas and creative choices are what has led to such acclaim for Linklater and his team. They are what makes this film different, sure, but they are also what allows a film with a pretty ordinary plot become brilliant. Many of the things that one would expect in an American teen drama are present; underage drinking, light drug consumption, an absent father, and teenage troubles of break-ups and sibling rivalry. There's also a lot of the things that would be expected in a story told from the perspective of a mother in crisis, such as the incredibly touching scenes where the mother's mortality is confronted. The film manages to honestly and unashamedly capture family life.
This film could have been made with different actors for different ages, or hectic and brash costume and make-up changes (I'm looking at you, Benjamin Button). If it had done, it would not have been anywhere near as interesting. Maybe it would have been good, but surely not as good as it is with these courageous choices made.
This film gave me a lot. The story allowed me to reflect on my own life, and even taught me some lessons that my privileged upbringing maybe missed. That is truly where the beauty of this film lies. It is a tale of life, akin to Tree of Life, (a big statement, I'd say), that seeks to tell the tale of me life woven through many others. It achieves this, and much more. It tells an honest tale, delivered believably by a cast who all give world-beating performances.
There is a caveat, however. This film follows a Boyhood, and as a self-identified man, I perhaps am able to take more from this film that a female viewer might. I think their are realistic female characters included, such as Mason's sister. However it is an understandable complaint that this is yet another film centring on a young white male in America. Maybe Linklater should have stepped an inch further in his bravery, and followed a girlhood. That would be a very different film, but the argument is a valid one, that it may have given more. However, we must judge art on what it is, rather than what it is not (though sometimes the urge is otherwise, certainly and understandably).
Importantly, at least one scene, I don't want to ruin it for you, very nearly brought me to tears, on a plane (yeah, I saw it on a long flight). Now, I don't ever mind crying at films. But I do attempt to refrain from doing so on planes, simply for the comfort my neighbours. I can't imagine it would be too great for them to have to sit next to a blubbering wreck in the already strange situation that flying is. Certain scenes tested me to my very lip-trembling limit.
There's some incredibly touching moments here, and without the physical passing of time that this film centres around, they would not be nearly as powerful. If Linklater had used different actors, we would not have been able to connect with the characters so deeply. We would care less when we suddenly recognise a returning character. Instead, we greet an old friend.
Finally, gotta give a shout out to the awkward restaurant boss in the pink shirt. We all had a boss like that at the end of school, when we were trying to save some cash for uni/college. We all kinda hated them, but hey... They paid us! Great little inclusion, and performance. Same to the (slightly drunk) uncle. Gotta love 'em.
Thursday, 22 January 2015
Gas Leak on Ponsonby and Pollen Interrupts Diners
At around 7:30 last night, Thursday 22nd, staff at the International Food Court on Ponsonby Road began smelling gas. By 8pm, the building's fire alarm had alerted the Fire Department, and Firemen had begun to evacuate the building and surrounding area. This action caused a relatively small interruption to diners and bar patrons, and also stopped traffic for a short while, and diverted bus routes.
It is believed to have been an accident relating to long term Auckland City Council action involving the gas main on the corner of Posonby Road and Pollen St.
By 9pm, gas contractors Vector had established the cause of the major problem, and had decided on a plan of action. Unfortunately for workers in the food court and other parked near by, this meant an extension to the exclusion zone, and further delay before they could return home.
As one Fire Department liaison explained, this was because the problem had to be "made worse" before it could be fixed entirely.
However, speaking to the owner of the Food Court, Gigi van Kuijk, it became clear that this issue was not only an emergency in the short term, but in fact stemmed from a site of long term activity, over the past thirteen months, on behalf of the Auckland City Council.
She explained that the gas line fault had been known for over a year, and the solution had been explained to her as a "3 week job". Unfortunately, Ms van Kuijk had been notified that a protected tree on the corner in question had delayed any City works. It is unclear if that tree had been the sole factor in the delay of works, but it was certainly the view of Ms van Kuijk that without the delay, she and her staff would not have been faced with the emergency tonight, as it should have already been fixed.
Posonby Road Fire Station Officer, Martin Campbell confirmed that the site had been being worked on for a long period of time, but at the time of the incident there were no contractors at the site. Instead of human error, Mr Campbell commented that it was simply a piece of old or faulty equipment that had given way at this time. Mr Campbell confirmed that 20 Firefighters, including support staff had attended the incident this evening.
There were no casualties or reported injuries at the scene.
It is believed to have been an accident relating to long term Auckland City Council action involving the gas main on the corner of Posonby Road and Pollen St.
By 9pm, gas contractors Vector had established the cause of the major problem, and had decided on a plan of action. Unfortunately for workers in the food court and other parked near by, this meant an extension to the exclusion zone, and further delay before they could return home.
As one Fire Department liaison explained, this was because the problem had to be "made worse" before it could be fixed entirely.
However, speaking to the owner of the Food Court, Gigi van Kuijk, it became clear that this issue was not only an emergency in the short term, but in fact stemmed from a site of long term activity, over the past thirteen months, on behalf of the Auckland City Council.
She explained that the gas line fault had been known for over a year, and the solution had been explained to her as a "3 week job". Unfortunately, Ms van Kuijk had been notified that a protected tree on the corner in question had delayed any City works. It is unclear if that tree had been the sole factor in the delay of works, but it was certainly the view of Ms van Kuijk that without the delay, she and her staff would not have been faced with the emergency tonight, as it should have already been fixed.
Posonby Road Fire Station Officer, Martin Campbell confirmed that the site had been being worked on for a long period of time, but at the time of the incident there were no contractors at the site. Instead of human error, Mr Campbell commented that it was simply a piece of old or faulty equipment that had given way at this time. Mr Campbell confirmed that 20 Firefighters, including support staff had attended the incident this evening.
There were no casualties or reported injuries at the scene.
Saturday, 17 January 2015
Solo in Seoul
It's quarter past six on the evening of the 15th of January, and I'm about to board a flight to Seoul, South Korea. I'm alone, and probably quite underprepared for the next thirty-six hours. I've never been before, and although I know a little about the country I'm about to make a whistle-stop tour to, the last time I truly paid attention to this particular East Asian country for an extended period of time was most probably the 2002 World Cup, hosted by South Korea and Japan.
I really don't know what to expect.
So, with my trusty "Top Ten Things To Do in Seoul" guidebook, and a horrendous understanding of Korea... Off I trot to the most easterly nation I have ever stepped foot in.
Along the way, I will speak to as many people as possible, and experience as much of contemporary Korean culture as one can possibly inhale in a waking time of around 12 hours.
What follows is my travelogue of this time:
First, a little vignette from the flight. As you begin to watch an in-flight movie, there's a short Korean Air spot, just a little trademark to remind you who you're flying with. All airlines probably do it, and it's probably pretty uninteresting. But this particular one seems to have borrowed the first few bars from the Jurassic Park movie theme tune as their jingle. Pretty surreal. I wonder if they know? They must do, right?
Tundra:! It's dawn over Irkutsk, near the Russian-Mongolian border. I know that due to the weird little in-flight map system on the to screen they give you. I also know it's beautiful, because I have a window seat. I'm having to be kinda sneaky about looking out of the window, because it's what you might call "Airline Enforced Nightime". The cabin lights are dimmed, and they're attempting to keep it as dark and quiet as possible so people can sleep. Totally fair. But I'm flying over Southern Russian Siberia! I want to look out of the window! I've already been scolded for opening my blind once.
Outside I can see mountains covered in snow, and rivers so white that they must be frozen. The
Cold is that special kind of freezing, that looks almost Blue from this height. This is the land of wolves and ice. Maybe people live here, but if so, they live in small villages or encampments. I can see no real built up areas. Just forest, and really scary looking mountains. "Well Patrick", I think to myself, as we tip right slowly, turning South, and I see a blanket of ice, a river, cut from the forest with clean lines, tamed as expertly as a piste from the wild... "Welcome to Asia".
I've fantasised about seeing Lake Baikal, the biggest on the planet, since I first saw a documentary on Russia with Jonathan Dimbleby. I might be 30,000ft above it, but I have still just laid eyes upon it. I am astounded. It's a wonder of the world. It's a cradle of life, surrounded by mountains rising up to greet us. Well, either that or we're losing altitude, but I'm not even going to think about that.
6am after a very deep sleep in a hotel I can only describe as very Korean, and I find myself in a traditional Korean taxi driver's restaurant. These places are open 24 hours a day in order to keep the drivers of Seoul going. Much like the little green huts you see around London, but much, much nicer.
I order a soup which I have been told Koreans often eat for breakfast. It's a bit of a nightmare, and the waitress has to show me how exactly I am supposed to consume various parts (and there are many parts) of the meal. I found solace in the sticky rice. Partly because it was easy, but also because I hadn't eaten in a while, and my belly needed filling.
The soup was also served with two huge bowls of Kimchi, which although I had been told was starkly different from European or American versions of the pickled vegetables, still shocked me slightly. One was a mass of cabbage, the other, several slices of turnip or similar root vegetable. They were both spicy, sweet and brilliant alongside the beefy stock of spring onions and noodles. All this masses of food for around £8!
Although I surprised the hostel concierge by asking for directions to one of these restaurants, instead of the western style breakfast shacks that are becoming popular in Seoul, it was completely worth while. This was true Korean food. I can tell partly by the slight buzz going around my tastebuds 20 minutes after I last took a bite. It was also evident from the lack of English spoken by the staff (all two of them), and the obviously taken-aback look on their faces when I, and young white Brit, walked into their establishment with my little brown briefcase and a smile. Though it was 6am, and I know places in London that would be shocked at that.
I'm now on a train into Central Seoul. It is clean (and I mean spotless), bright white, almost empty... And yep, just like the hotel had underfloor heating, these seats are toasty as can be!
I dig a lot about Seoul, but the one thing I really think we could easily implement in Britain that would make people's lives a whole lot happier is the little jingle that they play on platforms when the train is about to arrive, and on the train as it is approaching the station. It's just nice, y'know?
First stop, Seoul City Hall. I like city halls, I think they give a good indication of how the lives of their citizens are led, as the architecture is essentially the way the municipal authorities make a first impression on visitors.
My first impressions were as good as the authorities could expect.
The Hall is made of two parts. First, the old hall. It is much like any other city hall, really, two wings either side of a main concourse. White brick, and grand without being ostentatious. Not a Catholic Church then. The new part on the other hand, is a glass behemoth rising above the old part like a tidal wave, the top floor curved and protruding out, almost as if it is about to crash over the old city and wash it away in order to start again.
The interior carries on this aesthetic, inspired by the natural world. It is home to the people and organisations that are tasked with making Seoulites lives as easy as possible. This idea of life is taken onboard quite literally. The walls are covered in vertical gardens, showcasing some of the local flora.
After marvelling in this building for some time, I made my way to Gyeongbokgung Palace, one of the ancient royal palaces that the Kings of Korea once inhabited. Upon arrival, the changing of the guards ceremony started almost immediately. Perfect timing! During the ceremony, I commented to an American family how much better it was than the changing of the guards at Buckingham palace. One of them said she'd like to see it, and hey, "You guys have a Queen though, that's pretty cool!". Those of you reading this who know my views on royalty can probably imagine my face at this point, as I made a remark about how that wasn't exactly great for a so-called LiberalDemocracy like the UK. The Americans made their exit at this point.
The ceremony really was a lot more impressive than the British equivalent, though. Perhaps it was because it was all new to me, but I found their traditional Korean dress much more interesting than a boring red coat and big ol' bear hat. The entrance and exit of the guards was marked by the beating of a huge drum, by a man for whom this was his sole job. Probably a pretty decent job, but standing around all day in the bitter cold for only a few moments work each hour must be a bit tiresome. Speaking of the cold, it's been about -8c all day. Now I get these heated subways seats.
There was a whole lot of marching, music, and flag waving. It was a little bit Edinburgh Military Tattoo actually. But much better. The bagpipes' dirge was replaced by the (surprisingly tuneful) blowing through a shell. There was also an entertainingly chubby man at the back of the marching band who seemed to be a bit fed up that all he was allowed to do was crash cymbals. He was good at it though, and crashed those cymbals loud and hard each time. Good job.
I then paid about £2 to enter the Palace compound itself. It's massive! I mean, I know it's a royal compound and all, but it just seemed to go on and on, so whichever direction you turn out of whichever quad, there was either another quad of some importance (usually where some King or other had invented something. I found this doubtful, to say the least. Surely it was an aide who invited all these things, and the King just presided over it? I mean, one apparently invited the alphabet. It was all a little "Kim Jong Un just invented the Hamburger" for comfort.) or there was a ceremonial garden. The gardens were the best bit. Not only was the flora very new to me, but they often allowed a brief rest from the Selfie-Stick waving masses that were wandering around the more important parts of the complex. Often this wandering was helped by a guide, who all decided to speak through microphones, even when addressing a crowd of 6. Infuriating, but I guess if you give someone a mic, they are going to use it, aren't they?
After an hour and a half of guard changing and wandering, my fingers felt like they would drop off from the cold. I think the café workers were a little surprised about how excited I was to see their warm, welcoming sofas, and cheap elixirs (coffee).
After that, I trotted off to find some grub. Before I did, I found one of the best buildings I've ever seen. It made me think, much like I did in Amsterdam, that we Brits just need to say yes to more slightly mental ideas. The Jongno Tower is a skyscraper unlike any other. It looks from the side like any other, and then, as you round the corner, you realise that the architect has decided that on top of this already impressive structure, he would place another set of floors, supported only on the sides, and with a whole through the middle. I guess he really liked doughnuts. Ironically enough, there was a Dunkin' Doughnuts opposite. I hope it was ironic, anyway.
That brings me on to another important point about Seoul, actually. And that is the American influence. It is everywhere. For obvious historical and current political reasons, of course (the U.S. Army still has a large contingent here). However, it is still a bit weird seeing Subway,Starbucks, 7Eleven and the aforementioned doughnut dispensary at almost uniform intervals.
My lunch was again very Korean, well, once I'd managed to communicate what I'd like. They had no English menu, and I had to go outside with the waitress to point at the picture of the food they have on the street. Another funny little touch was the ringtone of their kitchen phone: Beethoven's 5th, in 8-bit. Naturally.
This place was in the Insadong neighbourhood. Unfortunately I wasn't able to spend as much time as I'd have liked there, and see all the cool little art places, as I had to catch my train back to Unseo to collect my bag and be on time for my flight. Much like my failure to see Namdan park; where you can climb the city centre hills, scale the radio tower, and get superb views of Seoul, this simply gives me a reason to come back and spend some more time in South Korea.
The restaurant was mainly frequented by builders and local tradesmen and women. I'm fairly sure they were laughing at my clueless attempts to locate the chopsticks, and I'm almost certain they then laughed at my using of them. I had ambition, but not much else. Massive amounts of rice, kimchi and egg-battered vegetables accompanied my chilli and seafood soup. Well. I say seafood. There was a whole prawn (which I had exactly no clue how I was supposed to separate from it's shell with only chopsticks and a spoon) and two clams. The clams were very nice. I'm sure the prawn might have been too. Suffice to say, I did not starve.
Just saw an advert for "Mr. Pizza! Ladies First". Not entirely sure if it's a pizza place or some kind of Sugardaddy service. That's an odd way to end my South Korean adventure, but actually it's quite fitting. Seoul is a city that does not allow one to know what to expect. It is an intricate mix of history and extravagant futurism. It's wide boulevards are within a stone's throw of winding urban mazes which the locals traverse as locals do, but tourists are intrigued by and nervous of. For every Taxi Driver's midnight soup stall, there is a 7Eleven and Burger King. The airport is similar to the City Hall in it's structure and aesthetic, yet is full of Hello Kitty cafés and designer scarf stores.
It was a hectic 36 hours, and I'm extremely glad to have taken the opportunity to have them in Seoul. But next time, I will have to travel with two things: a friend or group, and summer weather. There are times for cold, but wandering round a completely new city is perhaps not one.
I really don't know what to expect.
So, with my trusty "Top Ten Things To Do in Seoul" guidebook, and a horrendous understanding of Korea... Off I trot to the most easterly nation I have ever stepped foot in.
Along the way, I will speak to as many people as possible, and experience as much of contemporary Korean culture as one can possibly inhale in a waking time of around 12 hours.
What follows is my travelogue of this time:
First, a little vignette from the flight. As you begin to watch an in-flight movie, there's a short Korean Air spot, just a little trademark to remind you who you're flying with. All airlines probably do it, and it's probably pretty uninteresting. But this particular one seems to have borrowed the first few bars from the Jurassic Park movie theme tune as their jingle. Pretty surreal. I wonder if they know? They must do, right?
Tundra:! It's dawn over Irkutsk, near the Russian-Mongolian border. I know that due to the weird little in-flight map system on the to screen they give you. I also know it's beautiful, because I have a window seat. I'm having to be kinda sneaky about looking out of the window, because it's what you might call "Airline Enforced Nightime". The cabin lights are dimmed, and they're attempting to keep it as dark and quiet as possible so people can sleep. Totally fair. But I'm flying over Southern Russian Siberia! I want to look out of the window! I've already been scolded for opening my blind once.
Outside I can see mountains covered in snow, and rivers so white that they must be frozen. The
Cold is that special kind of freezing, that looks almost Blue from this height. This is the land of wolves and ice. Maybe people live here, but if so, they live in small villages or encampments. I can see no real built up areas. Just forest, and really scary looking mountains. "Well Patrick", I think to myself, as we tip right slowly, turning South, and I see a blanket of ice, a river, cut from the forest with clean lines, tamed as expertly as a piste from the wild... "Welcome to Asia".
I've fantasised about seeing Lake Baikal, the biggest on the planet, since I first saw a documentary on Russia with Jonathan Dimbleby. I might be 30,000ft above it, but I have still just laid eyes upon it. I am astounded. It's a wonder of the world. It's a cradle of life, surrounded by mountains rising up to greet us. Well, either that or we're losing altitude, but I'm not even going to think about that.
6am after a very deep sleep in a hotel I can only describe as very Korean, and I find myself in a traditional Korean taxi driver's restaurant. These places are open 24 hours a day in order to keep the drivers of Seoul going. Much like the little green huts you see around London, but much, much nicer.
I order a soup which I have been told Koreans often eat for breakfast. It's a bit of a nightmare, and the waitress has to show me how exactly I am supposed to consume various parts (and there are many parts) of the meal. I found solace in the sticky rice. Partly because it was easy, but also because I hadn't eaten in a while, and my belly needed filling.
The soup was also served with two huge bowls of Kimchi, which although I had been told was starkly different from European or American versions of the pickled vegetables, still shocked me slightly. One was a mass of cabbage, the other, several slices of turnip or similar root vegetable. They were both spicy, sweet and brilliant alongside the beefy stock of spring onions and noodles. All this masses of food for around £8!
Although I surprised the hostel concierge by asking for directions to one of these restaurants, instead of the western style breakfast shacks that are becoming popular in Seoul, it was completely worth while. This was true Korean food. I can tell partly by the slight buzz going around my tastebuds 20 minutes after I last took a bite. It was also evident from the lack of English spoken by the staff (all two of them), and the obviously taken-aback look on their faces when I, and young white Brit, walked into their establishment with my little brown briefcase and a smile. Though it was 6am, and I know places in London that would be shocked at that.
I'm now on a train into Central Seoul. It is clean (and I mean spotless), bright white, almost empty... And yep, just like the hotel had underfloor heating, these seats are toasty as can be!
I dig a lot about Seoul, but the one thing I really think we could easily implement in Britain that would make people's lives a whole lot happier is the little jingle that they play on platforms when the train is about to arrive, and on the train as it is approaching the station. It's just nice, y'know?
First stop, Seoul City Hall. I like city halls, I think they give a good indication of how the lives of their citizens are led, as the architecture is essentially the way the municipal authorities make a first impression on visitors.
My first impressions were as good as the authorities could expect.
The Hall is made of two parts. First, the old hall. It is much like any other city hall, really, two wings either side of a main concourse. White brick, and grand without being ostentatious. Not a Catholic Church then. The new part on the other hand, is a glass behemoth rising above the old part like a tidal wave, the top floor curved and protruding out, almost as if it is about to crash over the old city and wash it away in order to start again.
The interior carries on this aesthetic, inspired by the natural world. It is home to the people and organisations that are tasked with making Seoulites lives as easy as possible. This idea of life is taken onboard quite literally. The walls are covered in vertical gardens, showcasing some of the local flora.
After marvelling in this building for some time, I made my way to Gyeongbokgung Palace, one of the ancient royal palaces that the Kings of Korea once inhabited. Upon arrival, the changing of the guards ceremony started almost immediately. Perfect timing! During the ceremony, I commented to an American family how much better it was than the changing of the guards at Buckingham palace. One of them said she'd like to see it, and hey, "You guys have a Queen though, that's pretty cool!". Those of you reading this who know my views on royalty can probably imagine my face at this point, as I made a remark about how that wasn't exactly great for a so-called LiberalDemocracy like the UK. The Americans made their exit at this point.
The ceremony really was a lot more impressive than the British equivalent, though. Perhaps it was because it was all new to me, but I found their traditional Korean dress much more interesting than a boring red coat and big ol' bear hat. The entrance and exit of the guards was marked by the beating of a huge drum, by a man for whom this was his sole job. Probably a pretty decent job, but standing around all day in the bitter cold for only a few moments work each hour must be a bit tiresome. Speaking of the cold, it's been about -8c all day. Now I get these heated subways seats.
There was a whole lot of marching, music, and flag waving. It was a little bit Edinburgh Military Tattoo actually. But much better. The bagpipes' dirge was replaced by the (surprisingly tuneful) blowing through a shell. There was also an entertainingly chubby man at the back of the marching band who seemed to be a bit fed up that all he was allowed to do was crash cymbals. He was good at it though, and crashed those cymbals loud and hard each time. Good job.
I then paid about £2 to enter the Palace compound itself. It's massive! I mean, I know it's a royal compound and all, but it just seemed to go on and on, so whichever direction you turn out of whichever quad, there was either another quad of some importance (usually where some King or other had invented something. I found this doubtful, to say the least. Surely it was an aide who invited all these things, and the King just presided over it? I mean, one apparently invited the alphabet. It was all a little "Kim Jong Un just invented the Hamburger" for comfort.) or there was a ceremonial garden. The gardens were the best bit. Not only was the flora very new to me, but they often allowed a brief rest from the Selfie-Stick waving masses that were wandering around the more important parts of the complex. Often this wandering was helped by a guide, who all decided to speak through microphones, even when addressing a crowd of 6. Infuriating, but I guess if you give someone a mic, they are going to use it, aren't they?
After an hour and a half of guard changing and wandering, my fingers felt like they would drop off from the cold. I think the café workers were a little surprised about how excited I was to see their warm, welcoming sofas, and cheap elixirs (coffee).
After that, I trotted off to find some grub. Before I did, I found one of the best buildings I've ever seen. It made me think, much like I did in Amsterdam, that we Brits just need to say yes to more slightly mental ideas. The Jongno Tower is a skyscraper unlike any other. It looks from the side like any other, and then, as you round the corner, you realise that the architect has decided that on top of this already impressive structure, he would place another set of floors, supported only on the sides, and with a whole through the middle. I guess he really liked doughnuts. Ironically enough, there was a Dunkin' Doughnuts opposite. I hope it was ironic, anyway.
That brings me on to another important point about Seoul, actually. And that is the American influence. It is everywhere. For obvious historical and current political reasons, of course (the U.S. Army still has a large contingent here). However, it is still a bit weird seeing Subway,Starbucks, 7Eleven and the aforementioned doughnut dispensary at almost uniform intervals.
My lunch was again very Korean, well, once I'd managed to communicate what I'd like. They had no English menu, and I had to go outside with the waitress to point at the picture of the food they have on the street. Another funny little touch was the ringtone of their kitchen phone: Beethoven's 5th, in 8-bit. Naturally.
This place was in the Insadong neighbourhood. Unfortunately I wasn't able to spend as much time as I'd have liked there, and see all the cool little art places, as I had to catch my train back to Unseo to collect my bag and be on time for my flight. Much like my failure to see Namdan park; where you can climb the city centre hills, scale the radio tower, and get superb views of Seoul, this simply gives me a reason to come back and spend some more time in South Korea.
The restaurant was mainly frequented by builders and local tradesmen and women. I'm fairly sure they were laughing at my clueless attempts to locate the chopsticks, and I'm almost certain they then laughed at my using of them. I had ambition, but not much else. Massive amounts of rice, kimchi and egg-battered vegetables accompanied my chilli and seafood soup. Well. I say seafood. There was a whole prawn (which I had exactly no clue how I was supposed to separate from it's shell with only chopsticks and a spoon) and two clams. The clams were very nice. I'm sure the prawn might have been too. Suffice to say, I did not starve.
Just saw an advert for "Mr. Pizza! Ladies First". Not entirely sure if it's a pizza place or some kind of Sugardaddy service. That's an odd way to end my South Korean adventure, but actually it's quite fitting. Seoul is a city that does not allow one to know what to expect. It is an intricate mix of history and extravagant futurism. It's wide boulevards are within a stone's throw of winding urban mazes which the locals traverse as locals do, but tourists are intrigued by and nervous of. For every Taxi Driver's midnight soup stall, there is a 7Eleven and Burger King. The airport is similar to the City Hall in it's structure and aesthetic, yet is full of Hello Kitty cafés and designer scarf stores.
It was a hectic 36 hours, and I'm extremely glad to have taken the opportunity to have them in Seoul. But next time, I will have to travel with two things: a friend or group, and summer weather. There are times for cold, but wandering round a completely new city is perhaps not one.
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
The Anti-Spanish Movement in Gran Canaria is Alive and Well
The Canarian Independence movement might be officially over, but there's still Anti-Spanish anger to be seen and understood on these Atlantic islands.
By the 1970's the movement for Canarian independence from Madrid was fizzling out. There had been political mass action, as well as small but dangerous spates of violence on the streets of Gran Canaria. Unfortunately for those involved, the movement remained small, and never really caught the attention of the population as seen in other parts of the Iberian peninsular, such as Catalunya and the Basque region of France and Spain.
However, it would be wrong to believe that the problem is solved in the minds of the Canarian population.
On a short visit to the capital city of Gran Canaria, Las Palmas, this winter the feeling of alienation from mainland Spanish identity was clear to see.
The first sign that the people of this Atlantic island, off the coast of West Africa, are not completely content is the repeated graffiti declaring "Spanish Out!" along the main promenade on la Playa de Canteras.
This popular tourist destination was quite obviously not the central area for political action in the city, but it was also clear that this graffiti is not placed as it is to attract the attention of like-minded Canarians.
Instead, the slogan is more of a marketing ploy, directed at English speaking tourists, to enlighten the sun-following visitors that for the island's inhabitants, life is not paradisiacal.
However small this insignia may be, and however overlooked it unfortunately is by most tourists, who simply come for the winter sun, these words hint at an important feeling still present with a large number of Canarians.
On the menus of most restaurants serving food thought of as Spanish staples, most notably Tapas, visitors will almost always encounter a few items described as Canarian dishes. Of course, the availability of local food, and locally sourced food, is not only found here. But the pride in these dishes, and the excitement with which owners and waiters attempt to sell these dishes, when understood in the social environment of the Canaries, illuminates the independent minds and thoughts of the people on these islands.
This pride again raises it's head when talking to the young adults of Las Palmas. Perhaps it is my inquisitive mind, but I often strike up in conversation with shop keepers, waiters, or even just those who I seek directions from on the street. Unlike other tourist destinations in Spain or France that I have visited, all of the people working in Las Palmas, that I spoke to, were local. Perhaps it is due to the distance from other areas (even the closest Canarian Island to Gran Canaria, Tenerife, is over 100 kilometres by boat), or the economic hard times that Spain has encountered since the '08 Crash. Whatever the reason for this, the important lesson I gained from these conversations with locals, is that they do not consider themselves Spanish.
I asked, perhaps naively, if they were Spanish or Canarian, whenever the opportunity arose. "Canarian, of course!" was the uniform response.
The organised mass-movement of Canarian Independence may have collapsed to all intents and purposes in the 1970s. But the graffiti scrawled along beachside walls is an important reminder that the Catalan and Basque movements are not alone in modern Spain. In the current European climate of slow economic recovery, and in the wake of successful campaigns and plebiscites for Independence that led to the historic splitting of Serbia and Montenegro in 2006, and after our very own neighbour Scotland so nearly split from the United Kingdom this year, it would not be of any surprise if the Canarian people decided that the time was right to begin again their quest for independence.
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