From the Department of things you take for granted, I present you with ears.
Around every two years my right ear packs up. Fills up with wax and admits no external noise whatsoever. Oddly enough though it amplifies internal noises so I breathing, pulse, eating, any jaw movement etc - such noises are amplified a hundred fold to the exclusion of all else.
This also presents the listener with other difficulties, apart from rendering you deaf on one side. With only one functional ear it is very difficult to hear sound with any depth. It's like listening in mono and therefore it's also very difficult to hear where a noise is coming from. You really do have to take extra care when crossing the road for instance.
During my last hearing hiatus I went to a meeting with a colleague who sat on my right hand side. At the end of the meeting he said, "Well that went well", and I had to admit that this was news to me as I had only heard half the meeting, which was quite an interesting experience in itself. Imagine only hearing half a telephone conversation and you will have a picture of my experience.
The usual solution to this problem is to get the offending ear syringed and, for anybody who has never had this done, I can assure you it is awesome. It's like getting Dolby Surround Sound installed in your head. You can hear birds twittering five miles away. You can almost hear the things people are thinking about you.
Unfortunately, it has a slightly unfortunate side effect in that, the more you have it done, the more likely your ear is block again and doctors are becoming increasingly reluctant to syringe ears.
So for the next two weeks I will be filling my ear with foul almond-smelling drops - I hate nuts! -in the hope that they will loosen and eventually clear my oracles. So if we meet before next Thursday, which is the date for the "if all else fails - syringe it" appointment with the nurse, can I please apologise for 1) my smelly ears and, 2) failing to hear a word anybody is saying.
Sorry, could you please repeat that???
Monday 6 August 2007
Devastating news
I showed this blog to my Mum yesterday and she delivered some devastating news.
It's a bit boring, she said.
Controversial or disagreeable I could have lived with, but to be described as boring is crushing.
Nevertheless, on the bright side, I have to say that I find a lot of the stuff my Mum reads to be very dull, so I'm clinging to this liferaft in the meantime until other people deliver their opinions.
She did like the photo though so that's always something.
Hope you enjoy this Mum. I added this blog to your favourites. Just be glad I didn't make it your homepage.
It's a bit boring, she said.
Controversial or disagreeable I could have lived with, but to be described as boring is crushing.
Nevertheless, on the bright side, I have to say that I find a lot of the stuff my Mum reads to be very dull, so I'm clinging to this liferaft in the meantime until other people deliver their opinions.
She did like the photo though so that's always something.
Hope you enjoy this Mum. I added this blog to your favourites. Just be glad I didn't make it your homepage.
Wednesday 1 August 2007
Just in case you are wondering...
...and even if you are not, this is me. I just thought I would publish a picture of myself so that, in the unlikely event of meeting any stranger who reads this, at least one of us would know what the other looks like.
Oh, and I also wanted to check that I could do it - post a picture that is.
Isle of Lewis
So, as you can see from the previous post, I visited the Isle of Lewis on Monday.
This is one of the diminishing number of attractive features of my job. I sometimes get to places I haven't been to before, have a meeting with a client and then mooch around for the rest of the day waiting for the plane home.
Lewis was a nice place to mooch around.
From the air it looks bleak and desolate, a croft speckled landscape dappled with many small lochs. Apparently Lewis has about 3% of the UK land mass and 15% of its standing water. From the air I could understand this.
The difference between Lewis and Harris, actually both the same island, was quite striking. Lewis is low-lying, flat machair, covered in a thin, hard soil, which supports few trees and only the hardiest of wild plants like heather, dandelions and other ground huggers. Harris, which I only saw from a distance, was very different. Grey hump-backed mountains leered out from underneath the accumulating cloud. It looked mysterious, dark and exciting with the broiling cloud mass apparently supported by the unpronounceable monolithic mountains.
Lewis, on the other hand, remained breezy and bright. The occasional shower clattered through and, largely due to my ignorance of Gaelic, I missed my turn and continued South. Quite oblivious to my error, I ran through a landscape of peat bogs and sea lochs, many of which incisively cleaved into the landscape for some miles. Peeks of spectacular sandy beaches hinted at the glorious shore lines for which the Western Isles are renowned and it was some reluctance that I eventually realised I had made a mistake and retraced my steps to find my client.
After the meeting I visited the standing stones at Callanish. Having visited Stonehenge before I honestly believe that this is a more spectacular site. These stones are 5,000 years old and are roughly shaped in a cross with a former burial cairn at the centre of the cross. Archaeologists still debate the original purpose of the stones, but clearly they display a knowledge of the stars and it is quite likely that they are of religious, pre-christian, significance.
Callanish, like many historic sites, has that all too common 20th century appendage - a "visitor centre". In many cases this is an affliction, but in the case of Callanish it's quite a small, sympathetic and light building. Built in a curve behind a hill, and therefore out of sight of the stones, it offers a small shop and restaurant. The food was fine, although my can of Cola tasted more home made than the allegedly "home made" bread, and the shop and visitor display were nice.
A few miles north of Calanish is a fine example of an ancient broch, effectively a fortified residence used by ancient landowners. Again, this has a nice visitor centre actually built in to the hillside and it has the added nice touch of being the same shape as the broch enabling them to recreate quite authentically what life might have been like for the residents.
Still further north and I came across one of the most memorable place names I've seen for a while - Butt View. Enough said.
I cut back across to Stornoway. I'd heard before that it was a bit of a miserable place full of drink fuelled and drug addled teenagers but didn't find this to be the case. Admittedly a late Monday afternoon probably wasn't the best time to view the antics of Hebridean youth. Strangely the public toilets at the harbour appeared to be their preferred gathering place - I saw some girls there when I arrived and they were still there when I left two and a half hours later. There must be some attraction I'm missing...
I enjoyed the arts centre An Lanntair which had a display of what can only be described as Gaelic avant-garde art, a type of abstract form with extracts from Gaelic proverbs and poetry imprinted on it. The rest of the town seemed pleasant and sedate. A large and impressive castle overlooks the small inner harbour and people busied themselves about their daily duties.
The small airport sits on an isthmus separating Stornoway from Point and I sat there formulating plans for a further, longer trip to the Western Isles. I had visited Barra earlier in the year and would certainly recommend a trip travelling the length of the Western Isles. It is absolutely made for cycling.
This is one of the diminishing number of attractive features of my job. I sometimes get to places I haven't been to before, have a meeting with a client and then mooch around for the rest of the day waiting for the plane home.
Lewis was a nice place to mooch around.
From the air it looks bleak and desolate, a croft speckled landscape dappled with many small lochs. Apparently Lewis has about 3% of the UK land mass and 15% of its standing water. From the air I could understand this.
The difference between Lewis and Harris, actually both the same island, was quite striking. Lewis is low-lying, flat machair, covered in a thin, hard soil, which supports few trees and only the hardiest of wild plants like heather, dandelions and other ground huggers. Harris, which I only saw from a distance, was very different. Grey hump-backed mountains leered out from underneath the accumulating cloud. It looked mysterious, dark and exciting with the broiling cloud mass apparently supported by the unpronounceable monolithic mountains.
Lewis, on the other hand, remained breezy and bright. The occasional shower clattered through and, largely due to my ignorance of Gaelic, I missed my turn and continued South. Quite oblivious to my error, I ran through a landscape of peat bogs and sea lochs, many of which incisively cleaved into the landscape for some miles. Peeks of spectacular sandy beaches hinted at the glorious shore lines for which the Western Isles are renowned and it was some reluctance that I eventually realised I had made a mistake and retraced my steps to find my client.
After the meeting I visited the standing stones at Callanish. Having visited Stonehenge before I honestly believe that this is a more spectacular site. These stones are 5,000 years old and are roughly shaped in a cross with a former burial cairn at the centre of the cross. Archaeologists still debate the original purpose of the stones, but clearly they display a knowledge of the stars and it is quite likely that they are of religious, pre-christian, significance.
Callanish, like many historic sites, has that all too common 20th century appendage - a "visitor centre". In many cases this is an affliction, but in the case of Callanish it's quite a small, sympathetic and light building. Built in a curve behind a hill, and therefore out of sight of the stones, it offers a small shop and restaurant. The food was fine, although my can of Cola tasted more home made than the allegedly "home made" bread, and the shop and visitor display were nice.
A few miles north of Calanish is a fine example of an ancient broch, effectively a fortified residence used by ancient landowners. Again, this has a nice visitor centre actually built in to the hillside and it has the added nice touch of being the same shape as the broch enabling them to recreate quite authentically what life might have been like for the residents.
Still further north and I came across one of the most memorable place names I've seen for a while - Butt View. Enough said.
I cut back across to Stornoway. I'd heard before that it was a bit of a miserable place full of drink fuelled and drug addled teenagers but didn't find this to be the case. Admittedly a late Monday afternoon probably wasn't the best time to view the antics of Hebridean youth. Strangely the public toilets at the harbour appeared to be their preferred gathering place - I saw some girls there when I arrived and they were still there when I left two and a half hours later. There must be some attraction I'm missing...
I enjoyed the arts centre An Lanntair which had a display of what can only be described as Gaelic avant-garde art, a type of abstract form with extracts from Gaelic proverbs and poetry imprinted on it. The rest of the town seemed pleasant and sedate. A large and impressive castle overlooks the small inner harbour and people busied themselves about their daily duties.
The small airport sits on an isthmus separating Stornoway from Point and I sat there formulating plans for a further, longer trip to the Western Isles. I had visited Barra earlier in the year and would certainly recommend a trip travelling the length of the Western Isles. It is absolutely made for cycling.
Glasgow Airport security is a shambles
Just one month after two men tried to blow up Glasgow airport, security remains lax.
On Monday morning I checked in using the electronic check-in machines in the main concourse for a flight to Stornoway. As I was returning the same day I was also able to check in electronically for my return flight in the evening.
I then went through security, where my boarding pass and carry on luggage were checked, and boarding control, where my boarding pass alone was checked.
At no stage was I asked to provide any photographic ID. In fact, I wasn't required to provide any ID of any sort so nobody could check if I was the person named on the boarding pass.
The same happened again that evening in Stornoway. Again, having already checked in that morning, I by-passed check-in and was not asked to show any ID at security or while boarding.
I think that this is potentially quite a serious matter, particularly given the trend to checking in either using the machines or on-line. Surely, it is quite a simple matter to ensure that ID is checked at security or whilst boarding? My suspicion is that this should have been done but wasn't.
However, given recent events at the airport, you would have been forgiven for thinking that security people should have been more alert.
I've emailed BAA with my concerns but, to date, no reply.
On Monday morning I checked in using the electronic check-in machines in the main concourse for a flight to Stornoway. As I was returning the same day I was also able to check in electronically for my return flight in the evening.
I then went through security, where my boarding pass and carry on luggage were checked, and boarding control, where my boarding pass alone was checked.
At no stage was I asked to provide any photographic ID. In fact, I wasn't required to provide any ID of any sort so nobody could check if I was the person named on the boarding pass.
The same happened again that evening in Stornoway. Again, having already checked in that morning, I by-passed check-in and was not asked to show any ID at security or while boarding.
I think that this is potentially quite a serious matter, particularly given the trend to checking in either using the machines or on-line. Surely, it is quite a simple matter to ensure that ID is checked at security or whilst boarding? My suspicion is that this should have been done but wasn't.
However, given recent events at the airport, you would have been forgiven for thinking that security people should have been more alert.
I've emailed BAA with my concerns but, to date, no reply.
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