Sublimation

Last Sunday, we had a fantastic winter day, cold and sunny and dry, hardly any wind. A perfect day for skiing above the timberline.

When the weather conditions are like that, the ice cover virtually evaporates from the highway. It's called sublimation, and happens in dry and cold conditions. Water goes directly from the solid phase (ice) to the gas phase (vapor), without passing through the liquid phase (water). It's the same as the process they use to make instant coffee (freeze-drying).

When little boy and I came down to the chair lift in the morning, we found a sign announcing: ski-in mass 11 am. I was curious.

"What the Hell is going on," I said.

"Maybe the priest wanna ski too", little boy suggested.

"Do you wanna attend the mass? Maybe the priest can bless your skis?"

"No, I don't want to waste my time," said little boy.

So, no mass. That's fine with me. Let the priest do whatever he wants, with or without skis. I'm done with that stuff long time ago. Little boy seems to agree.

I was just curious what a ski-in mass is like. I still don't know.

Anyway, the skiing was good. Little boy skied over the jumps. I'm too old for jumping. It hurts too much when I fall. Around noon we could even feel that the sun was warming. Maybe it was just the holy ghost leaking out from the mass.

It was one of those days when skiing is like a sublimation of God. The mountains are my cathedral. I don't need a priest >:)

(These sunny and cold winter days come now and then every year: I had forgotten my camera this time. The picture above was taken in January last year.)

Sun gone wild

The sun has gone crazy the last few days, with very powerful magnetic storms. I read in the newspapers that this has caused problems for the air traffic, in particular near the poles.

And it creates northern light.

The magnetic storms send bursts of electrically charged particles into space. When the particles come close to the the Earth, they follow the magnetic field towards the north and south poles. That's why you need to be far north (or far south) to see the norther (or southern) light.

It's not very often we see strong northern light as far south as our town (at 63 degrees north). It's a spectacular view, but it's just some cool physics in action >:)

(The picture is from our local newspaper. It shows the northern light flashing over the town.)

Christening of Christ

I've been somewhat reluctant to traveling to Russia recently. In Moscow there has been big protests against Putin, since the irregularities in the recent election. More than 100.000 people have gathered in demonstrations in the city center.

In Murmansk a nuclear-powered submarine caught fire in the shipyard. According to Russian authorities, the situation is fine, and no radioactive waste has leaked.

History has shown that when Russian authorities say everything is under control, there are reasons to be worried.

What would you choose? Anti-Putin demonstrations or a burning nuclear submarine? Where would you go? Moscow or Murmansk?

This week, my choice was easy: I take both.

According to our Moscow office, the situation is OK. There's no risk traveling to Russia, really.

My trip had a bad start. The airport in my hometown was closed due to fog, so I missed my subsequent flight with Aeroflot to Moscow. Fortunately, I got an alternative route, with Air Baltic to Riga, and connection to Moscow. I arrived in the hotel at midnight, some four hours delayed.

Yesterday was a exhausting. I was in a work meeting from 9am to 6pm. Then a driver took me through the Moscow traffic jam to the airport. I had a quick (so-called) dinner in the airport, before boarding the plane to Murmansk together with a Russian colleague. I'm completely dependent on help from a translator to get my job done.

Today is a popular Russian holiday, the epiphany. My Russian friends explained to me that they're celebrating the "Christening of Christ", when Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River. Maybe that's when he got the nickname Christ?

The celebration started last night, with mass in the churches, and hordes of Russians seeking frozen rivers and ponds. They cut a hole in the ice and jump into the water, three times, while saying magic and saving prayers.

Many people didn't show up at work today. I'm not sure if it was due to the dives in the cold water, or the following vodka.

Tonight I'm just relaxing in the hotel, reading and writing. Mission completed. There's nothing more i need to do.

Tomorrow I'm flying back home on an Antonov 24, an amazing old propeller plane from the Soviet times. This type of plane was built from 1960 to 1980. There are still more than 1000 of them flying. The plane feels pretty safe. It's shaking like Hell on start-up and take off. But at cruising speed, it's quite pleasant. It's a simple and robust aircraft, built for hostile conditions.

I've taken this route before, but only in summer time. Tomorrow will be another interesting experience; flying on an Antonov 24 across the white tundra >:)

(This trip, I've only been working and traveling, no opportunity to take pictures. Above is a picture I took last summer, onboard the Antonov 24. A nice stewardess was serving lunch, with all kinds of Russian drinks)

Things I hate about flying

Last year, I was traveling quite a lot, way too much for a normal family life. My resolution for 2012 should be to travel less.

When I updated my trip recording yesterday, I made a quick count. In 2011, I went on 19 business trips, to a variety of interesting places:

• Milan, Italy.
• Doha, Qatar.
• San Antonio, Texas.
• Moscow, Russia (7 times).
• Murmansk, Russia (4 times).
• Domestic, northbound (2 times).
• Domestic, southbound (4 times).

Fortunately, we use video conferencing quite extensively. We hardly do domestic travel anymore.

There are a few things I really dislike about flying. This is my top 3 hate list:

1. Sitting in a center seat: A long flight squeezed between two fat guys, and fighting for the arm rest is a nightmare. I want a window seat.
2. When the guy in the seat in front of me leans his seat backward and steals half of that small space I have to read and write and work. The seats should be fixed in the upright position.
3. Airport security is such a hazzle; taking off clothes and shoes, emptying pockets, taking lap top out of the bag, long lines.

I shouldn’t complain too much. I know I’m lucky and privileged, traveling to (some) nice places, and even getting paid for it.

Flying is not all bad. There are things I like about it too:

1. Sitting by the window looking down on interesting places as we pass by.
2. Getting some undisturbed time to read and write.
3. The comfort in business class. I don’t fly business class very often, only on flights taking 6 hours or more. Most of the time I fly Economy Extra, to be able to re-book flights as needed.

My ambition for 2012 is maximum 10 trips. That’s acceptable.

Anyway, next week I go again; booked my tickets today.

(I took the picture above last fall, on-board an Aeroflot plane, over the western part of Russia. The clouds make up an interesting pattern of almost parallel lines. I'm not sure what's causing this, but it was a nice view.)

After ski

The last December days were short and cold. We got six days of dry white snow and good skiing. At 2pm the faint sun disappears behind the horizon. It's getting dark when the lifts close an hour later.

And then the after ski starts, with a variety of options; pubs and bars with dance music, discotheques and live dinner shows.

I rather relax in the cabin with a warm lingonberry or cloudberry drink and a good book. This Christmas vacation, I finished two:

The Hypnotist. Quite an original story with some unexpected twists, from the shelf of Scandinavian crime, written by Alexander and Alexandra Ahndoril under the pseudonym of Lars Kepler.

Life Short, Rytkönen Long. Absurdism from Finnland by Arto Paasilinna. The book wasn't bad, some really funny moments, but didn't match The Son of the Thunder God, I think.

That's my after ski >:)

I took the picture above on a cold and clear day on the slopes this Christmas. The low sun is flaming in the frozen forest, before disappearing behind the horizon.

Christmas as usual

It’s Christmas, the traditional celebration, as always.

This year we went down south to celebrate with family. All of them live in the south of Winterland. We’re the only ones who moved away.

My father had bought a Christmas tree this year. When I was a kid, we used to steal a tree in the forest. We put on our skis, brought a saw and an axe, cut down the most beautiful little pine we could find and pulled it back home. Not anymore. Even my father is buying the Christmas tree now.

(My father is a cool guy; retired teacher and enthusiastic cross-country skier and writer. He has written his own Christmas song, both the lyrics and the melody. He plays harmonica but he can’t read sheet music. I have to tell more about him some time.)

The meal on Christmas Eve is traditional, but varying around the country. We’re alternating between the sheep rib of the west coast (most years), and the pork rib of the south east (some years), depending on who we’re with.

This Christmas Eve we had sheep rib, dried and salted and smoked, and then watered (to remove excess salt) and boiled and finally fried, served with mushed swede and boiled potatoes. Very good.

After the meal, we were ready for the commercial Christmas orgy (we open the presents on Christmas Eve). Tons of toys and games were unwrapped, a lot more than the kids were able to appreciate.

On Christmas Day, little boy and I watched the Christmas Mass in TV (on public broadcasting). I need to know the stuff I mock and criticize. Recently we got some new liturgy; more music, more show. We’re getting closer to the Catholics. Martin Luther wouldn’t like this, but who cares. People want to be entertained while getting their opium.

We watched the mass for half an hour. Then we zapped to cartoons, The Simpsons, little boy’s favorite. I must admit I enjoy it myself.

In the evening a heavy storm hit the west coast and the south east. We were in a party, and when we tried to drive back an hour after midnight, the roads were blocked by fallen trees. We talked to a police patrol who was out to close roads. He advised us to go to return to where we came from. So we did, and slept over.

Tonight we went back home (no problems with the flight). Tomorrow the real vacation starts. Six days of skiing in the mountains. Great.

It’s Christmas as usual >:)

(Christmas on the slopes, that's the way I like it. Took the picture one year ago, and hope it will be the same this time.)

Christmas - two different ones

Christmas is a big hazzle, and this year I have to worry about two of them.

Last week, the guys I’m working with in Russia proposed a work meeting in Moscow 26-28 December. There’s no way I can go on a business trip between Christmas Day and New Year. I won't even mention it. Christmas is family time.

We can meet early in January, I suggested. No, we can’t, because that’s the Orthodox Christmas in Russia. No chance before mid of January, at best. Damn. Not good.

Christmas is a pain in the ass, and has always been. I dislike both the religious and commercial part of it. The Virginborn and Santa Claus, two quite bizarre products of human fantasy.

If I could delete two days from the callendar, I would pick Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

However, it’s not much I can do about it. I just turn off my brain, watch the Disney cartoons with the kids, and wait for it to be over on the 26. December.

Then the rest is just a mid-winter skiing vacation, which is nice >:)

(I took the picture above one year ago when I was running desperately around town doing last-minute Christmas shopping. This year we don't even have snow in town. However, my wife has bought her present from me herself. Great. Then she gets what she wants, and I avoid going shopping. I'll rather buy her a book that I want to read ... that's how meaningless this Christmas thing has become >:D)

Deja Vu: The old jew from Brooklyn

Today D.L.Hammond at Cruising Altitude 2.0 is hosting the Deja Vu Blogfest. The rule: Repost some good old stuff from your archives, as simple as that.

Originally posted in May 2010, this is probably my own favorite from my blog archive:


The old jew from Brooklyn

Last night I was reading some old travel diaries, from university days, when I was a physics student.

Once we stayed in a small youth hostel in Vienna. There were six beds in each room, and separate rooms for boys and girls. In my room I met a small and skinny man, with white hair and a big beard. He was an 85 year old jew from Brooklyn, older than the rest of us together. He had sold everything he owned, and wanted to spend his money traveling around the world until he died. I thought that was a cool thing to do, while waiting for life to fade out.

He would have been close to 110 years old now, if he was still alive. I wonder how far he got on his journey. I hope he made it all the way to the end >:)