Travel diary of 2017

I usually write when I’m out traveling. That’s when I get time and space to do it, on airplanes, and in hotel rooms. As I mention some posts ago, I lost my dear notebook last fall, which means I also lost everything I wrote on my trips to various places, my travel diaries, kind of.

So, now I want to write it down from my memory, before it’s too late, before I forget. It’s not very important. It won't make a difference to the world. I do it just for fun, while enjoying a weekend alone, and wasting my time on whatever I want.

Moscow, March. 

Five-day work trip. I’ve written about this before, here.

Moscow, April.

Another work trip to Putin’s empire. We had a big meeting on a Tuesday, and I needed a full work week to prepare. This means that I had to stay over a weekend in Moscow, finally. I’ve been to Russia 25 times over the last 5-6 years, but never spent a weekend there. Just worked. Flying out Monday morning, going home Friday afternoon. That’s crazy.

Most of the time I worked, as before. I walked to the office in the morning, a nice walk along the river. It was colder than usual, according to my Russian friends. No nice and warm spring weather. Then I spent 10-12 hours twisting equations and interpreting data. Around 9 in the evening I went back to the hotel, had a beer and ate some borsch. Not too exiting. Wednesday through Saturday passed like this.

Saturday night I went downtown, to eat dinner together with the boss and another guy, at Vysota 5642. It’s a Caucasian restaurant, named after the summit elevation of Mount Elbrus, the highest mountain in Europe, though the French dispute it. We got some strange dishes. It was delicious. Going back to the hotel, we took an Uber taxi. It’s the best taxi service in Moscow, if you stick to drivers with a rating of 4.5 or more.

Sunday, I took a full day off. I travelled around Moscow on the metro. First, I went to see the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, where Pussy Riot made their famous gig by the altar (the video is is on YouTube). It’s a strange church. It looks old, but is almost brand new, decorated with neon-light signs on the inside. The original church was demolished by Stalin. Jesus Christ wasn’t very popular in the Soviet Union. The church was rebuilt 1997-2000. No objections. Stalin is dead. Putin and the clerics are buddies.

I happened to visit the church in the middle of a mass. I went in to watch the show. Very interesting. The mass was run by Patriarch Kirill himself, assisted by an army of holy men, all of them dressed in red and gold robes, and funny hats. The women in the congregation wore scarves to cover their hairs. Everybody kept their arms crossed over the chest while receiving the communion. They all drank the wine from the same spoon. Alcohol, or God, kill the bacteria, I presume. No photos allowed inside.

Then I went down to the Kremlin, to see the inside of the fortress. I have tried before but gave it up because of the long lines. This time I had plenty of time, and was determined to get in. First there was a one-hour line to get a ticket, then half an hour to get through the security check. It was worth it. I skipped the Historical Museum and St. Basil’s Cathedral on Red Square. I’ve been there before.

Tuesday was the day for our big meeting, with bosses from Big Oil and Huge Oil (the biggest, and probably the most corrupt, oil company on Earth). It’s kind of odd the way they do it in Russia. The bosses sat around the table in the meeting room. The technical guys, including me, were placed on chairs in the back, along the walls. We were supposed to present our technical work, and then shut up. I took the freedom to speak up whenever I felt like I had something important to say. I come from a country with free speech. The meeting was run with simultaneous translation between Russian and English. It’s somewhat tiring, everything is said twice, but you get used to it.

In the evening, I went out to eat and drink beer with my Russian friends. The next morning, I overslept. I ran to the Paveletskaya Metro Station, with my suitcase. I jumped on to the ring line to Belorusskaya Station, and got on the airport train to Sheremetyevo. I didn’t miss my flight back home.

Iceland , June.

I went to Reykjavik with a couple colleagues, on a quick business trip. Just two days, to discuss upcoming geothermal projects. The meeting was in an old hydroelectric power station. Nice building, nice location by the river. After the meeting, we went on a quick road trip to see the geothermal area, with two power stations, near the Hengill volcano.

Iceland is full of tourists in the summer. The airport is crowded, and hotels are expensive. I paid $400 for one night in a downtown hotel. Breakfast not included. If you ever go to Iceland, don’t forget to buy the Icelandic licorice candy, probably not very healthy, but very good.

Amsterdam, June.

Weekend trip to Amsterdam with the boys. Canals, bicycles, and the smell of marihuana from the so-called coffee shops. That’s Amsterdam to me, a city full of sin. The Dutch are probably the most liberal people in the world. Very good.

We went to see the Rembrandt Museum and the van Gogh Museum. Great museums, both of them. Mad men. In the Moco Museum they had an interesting street-art exhibition, with works of Banksy. Nobody knows who he is. Lucky guy.

There's also a sex musemum and a torture museum, which we didn't visit. I,ve been there before. Bizarre stuff, the latter. 

Sao Miguel, July.

Vacation on Sao Miguel, the largest of the Azorean Islands. The islands are located on a plate boundary, just like Iceland. The Azores popped out of the sea where the Eurasian, American and African crustal plates meet in a triple junction. We rented a car to get around. Craters and crater lakes, hot springs and fumaroles. Very cool, and hot.

We stayed in Ponta Delgada, the biggest town and capital. The neighboring town of Ribera Grande, has a geothermal power plant, with wells drilled by the Icelanders. There’s a lot of interesting geoscience on the Azores. I couldn’t completely forget my job.

We went on a whale safari on the ocean, to watch sperm whales and dolphins. They don't hunt the whales in the Azores anymore. In Winterland, we do. Why shouldn't we. The meat is delicious. We ate it regulary for dinner when I was a kid. Now whale meat has become very expensive.

The best thing about vacation is getting plenty of time to read books. I read “Capital in the 21^st Century” by Thomas Piketty, 700 pages, great read. Recommended.

Iceland, August.

We went to Iceland to do some field work. We studied the geology of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, and measured the magnetic field and the acceleration of gravity. The weather was nice and sunny. We were lucky. Good weather doesn’t come too often on Iceland. That's my experience.

Iceland has 300,000 inhabitants (almost all of them are Atheists), and 1.5 million tourists every year. Getting a hotel is difficult in the peak tourist season. The first 3 nights, we stayed in a motel in Keflavik, near the international airport.  It’s a weird place in many ways: It’s probably due to the US air force base that used to be there during the cold war. The base is closed down now, but still the town is like a piece of America. Going to a burger place in Keflavik, feels just like being in a Wendy’s restaurant in Colorado or Wyoming.  

We spent two days in the lava fields in the geothermal area close to the airport. Then we drove for an hour along the south coast, and checked in to a hotel in the town of Selfoss. The next two days we worked in the lavas near the Hellisheidi geothermal area. Again, we measured the magnetic field and the gravity. I walked around like a shepard with the magnetometer in my hand. Magnetism is mysterious. Gravity is real. Neither are magic. It's just science.

It’s the anomalies that are of interest to us, because that’s where the subsurface geological information is hidden. After we came home, I’ve spent weeks and months analyzing the data. I’ve been digging into some really cool science, and I’m currently working on a publication. My masterpiece. No, just joking.

Salt Lake City, October.

I went to Salt Lake City to attend my first ever conference on geothermal energy, and presented some of our recent research. It was a good week. My talk was well received. I got some challenging questions from a French professor. That's the way it should be. I learnt a lot more from going to my first geothermal conference than I would have done on my 20^th conference on petroleum geoscience.

Salt Lake City is an interesting city, but also somewhat bizarre, with the Mormon influence on everything. I admire the Mormons in many ways, but I also think it’s the most stupid of all religions. It’s so obviously fake. That’s the drawback of a new religion. All the bullshit is more easily revealed than for an ancient religion obscured by 1400 or 2000 years of history.

I spent hours at Temple Square, to see the Tabernacle, and the visitor centers (there are two of them). I had some interesting and entertaining discussions with the missionaries, a holy army of polite young men and women. The nice thing about the Mormons is that they’re tolerant, apparently. They accept that you have a different view on their religion (I think it’s pure nonsense), but they disagree of course. At least they are peaceful, and don’t chop your head off.

The last time I was in SLC, alcohol was allowed only in private clubs. Now I was happy to see that beer was available in all restaurants. I had some very good beers, with funny names, like Polygamy Porter, and Latter Day Stout. Cheers. Maybe the Mormons have a sense of humor, or more likely, the heathens are playing jokes on them >:)

(Some pictures taken on the various trips)

Before Man made God

I just came home after a week in Spain, on a geology field trip in the Pyrenees. They call it work. At least we get paid for it.

The geologists go on field trips all the time. Occasionally (every 10th year or so) they let the geophysicists join in.

We studied the making of the Pyrenees; the Pyrenean orogenesis. We didn’t bother about all of Genesis, just a small part of it, in the southern Pyrenees.

(And we had some great hikes while looking at the old rocks. I know that I’m privileged.)

The Pyrenees are younger than the Rockies, but older than the Alps. The Pyrenees have been there for a long time.

They helped Republicans escape from General Franco during the Civil War. 

They survived the Spanish flu.

They witnessed the Spanish inquisition.

The mountains were carved long before Man made God.

But in the end they will be gone, planed by water and ice. That’s the inevitable faith of a mountain range.

(We hiked a steep and stony trail. After an hour we stopped at the crest of a great moraine. The reward we got was the view of the mountain in the picture above.)

Heat

It's been a freezing cold day with a lot of heat.

At work today, I solved the heat equation. I try to simulate a stack of sedimentary rocks being heated by the crust below, and how temperature develops through geological time.

When I came back home, I lighted the fireplace to heat the kitchen and the living room. Then I made a hot meal for the kids.

Tomorrow is race day for little boy. This evening, I waxed his skis. It's a long and tedious process to do it properly: First, sharpen the edges with a file. Second, heat the wax with a waxing iron and melt it into the base. Third, scrape of the excess wax. Finally, brush and polish the base. Then the skis are ready for the super-G race.

Now I'm relaxing with a hot cup of tea.

My old lady has been away on a business trip today. When she comes home tonight, I hope the heat is on >;)

(I computed the plot above at work today. It shows the diffusion of heat from below through a package of sedimentary rocks. After 50 million years, hot magma intrudes the sediments. The time-step between each temperature curve is 10 million years ... not much God could have done about it in 6 days, and resting on the 7th.)

Down by the seaside

It was the last week of the summer vacation, and we went to the coast down south. Actually, it's not very far south, just an hour driving south of Winterland.

Blackberries are growing wild by the roads, very nice to eat right off the bush. Blackberries don't grow in Winterland.

(I might use this as a definition; Winterland is the land north of the northermost blackberry bush.)

We had some nice and lazy days by the sea, swimming, jumping from cliffs (the kids, not me), fishing, or just racing around on the fjord in a small boat, just for fun.

Little boy caught a grasshopper and put it in a jar. He named it Roy and tried to teach it tricks. It turned out that Roy wasn't very willing to learn.

I've read some good books, of course. First, I read my every-summer-on-the-beach book; The Gambler by Dostoyevsky. It's about the 10th time I read it. Second, I read Boomerang by Tatiana de Rosnay. Good book, recommended.

Then I found this old book in a shelf; The Barble Bush by Charles Mergendahl. I had never heard of it before, but the text on the back cover made me curious; "2.5 million copies sold" (not necessarily a good sign), "mercy killing, adultry, seduction, insanity ... sordid ingredients". And the book wasn't bad, I think.

From time to time, I got tired of reading; I wanted to write. So, I got a notebook, and started to write a new novel. The notebook has pages labeled from A to Z (plus a couple of strange letters we're using here). Just for fun, I started a new chapter for every new heading-letter, and each chapter beginning with the same letter. I'm writing longhand, so I have to rewrite (and edit) everything later.

My new (so-called) novel is a story about two old men escaping from the nursery home, and their adventures as they travel northward. It's is kind of a road movie, except that it's a novel, and that they travel by train and ship rather than car. On their way, they summarize their different, but equally miserable lives and hope that their last journey will bring something exciting. I have no plot and no plan; we'll see where it ends.

Led Zeppelin? Yes, that's right. I borrowed the title of this post from a Led Zeppelin song on the Physical Graffiti album.

(I took the picture above on a nice and sunny day at the beach. The area along the coast is of great geological interest. The rocks were created by volcanic erruptions some 150 million years ago, and later carved and shaped by glaciers. It's nature's own art.)

The outermost island

I'm back in the north, and basically in the middle of the ocean, on the outermost populated island in this big archipelago. A weird place for a geophysics conference. I've never been here before. It's a nice place. The island is remote and manage on their own. There are two flights to the mainland per day, and two ferry departures, with four hours transit across the sea.

The population is about 600 people. They export first-class dry-cod for 150.000 dollars per citizen per year, mostly to Italy. Unemployment is zero, it's a self-sustained community. They have 100 fishing boats, one taxi and one church.

Today the weather has been perfect. Sunny, but windy. It's always windy here. Before lunch we went on a boat ride, in a fast 30 foot RIB, out between the small islands and rocks near by, where only sheep, eagles, and half a million Atlantic puffins live. I took some pics of course.

After lunch, the conference started. My talk was the second last before dinner. I presented my new invention, on nonlinear waves, and got good feed back. Apparently no one noticed my somewhat original haircut. Or maybe they're just too polite to say anything.

Tomorrow it's supposed to be a geology field trip, but it may be cancelled. There is only one man who can drive the bus here, and he's on vacation in the south >:)))

MOCKBA

Last fall I was in Moscow, to present a paper on a geology conference. Half of the presentations were in Russian, and I didn't understand much of the simultaneous translation to a language they called English. It was one week before the start of the heating season. Turning the heating on was out of question, in spite the thermometer clearly suggesting so. Therefore everybody was wearing big coats and thick jackets in the auditoriums.

Whatever, it was cool to be in Moscow again. It's almost 20 years since last time I was there, when Moscow was the capital of Soviet Union, and Gorbatchov was the president. The city had changed a lot in 20 years, and then I really mean a lot. All the Lenin statues (except one or two) were removed. The huge banners with communist propaganda was replaced by, guess what, huge commercial posters. Ferrari and Lamborghini had both opened auto stores in the city center.

Every evening, I went for a walk around Red Square, which was looking very much like it used to. I took lots of pictures of course, and above is one I was very happy with. If you look carefully, you can see the St. Basil's cathedral through the entrance to Red Square.

There is a crazy story from the construction of the St. Basil's cathedral: When it was finished, the emperor Ivan the Terrible was very satisfied with the result. To show how happy he was, he gave the architect a very special reward. He blinded him by sticking out his eyes, so that the architect could not build a similar church for another emperor.