I am thoroughly exasperated from looking for work. Everyone who wants a Geologist in singapore want them highly trained and qualified skilled and foreign. Why not also hire a fledgling geology graduate, pay him less than your stupid expat, and train him to be better than them?
Also... after searching through google for bloody ages, I claim the title as 1st Singaporean Geologist for myself until someone else comes by and claims it. seriously.
And some stupid indonesian company thinks its a great idea to hire junior geologists at 3000000 indon rupiah. wtf. thats £180.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Celebrating what is, and cheering on what isn't.
Doma is a 36 year old peasant, said the caption beneath a picture of a farmer-type lady clinging on to a hoe amid a back drop of devastation from this week's earthquake in sumatra.
I couldn't stop laughing at the caption. It reminded me of the time I described someone as a peasant in Al's car while driving back to manchester from wales. The conversation was as usaul, full of racial tension ( we were talking about how I have a particular dislike for a country because they were the worse tenants my mom ever had (out of 2)), and I came to this description, where I said;" They (the tenants) behaved like PEASANTS!"
There was a momentary silence, and a sudden roar of laughter.
"You can't say that here in Britain, Jason!!"
"Why not? Peasants are, Peasants!!"
In a country where liberty and democracy are woven in the fabric of society, calling someone a peasant, was apparently, unacceptable, to a certain extent (though we did evolve hurling the word peasant at each other in light jest and banter afterwards). A word that reminded them of the golden age of Britain, where there were the aristocratic classes, the gentry, and of course, the peasants. Calling someone a peasant then, was determining him to be of the lower caste in society, and of course, reminding themselves what an awful time the victorian age was is, a habitual eccentricity of English humility.
In Singapore, the word peasant was taken to be as literal as can be, given by wikipedia:"A peasant is an agricultural worker who subsists by working a small plot of ground." Nothing more.
No insinuations of the colonial slavery that we endured, no misnomers of assuming someone to be of a lower class. A peasant, is a peasant thats all.
In a country like Singapore, where we have very little to think about, and very little that impacts the world (positive or negative), words are still very literal in meaning, there are hardly any hidden insinuations, or political correctness, or sensitivities that we have to constantly be alert of.
Growing up in a multi-cultural society has made each and everyone of us very much in tuned to one and another, such that any language that can be conceived as derogatory, are usually taken in jest in our little city state. Racial tensions? I think WE think, not.
Its strange how we can share a table with our Malay and Indian or Chinese friends, and have a meal with them, but neither of us races can tolerate a foreign entity like the Bangladeshi workers or PRCs who arrive in droves. We all are afterall, descendents of migrants, who like them, were only looking to earn more money for home.
But come a 150 years, and wind and rain, storms, wars and riots, many of us consider us first to be Singaporean, then our own skin colour, and that is, in itself, a great blessing. As long as these migrants do not step out of their comfort zones to engage Singapore for who we are (singlish speaking, gum chewing, complaining, orderly mess), they're never going to fit in.
I couldn't stop laughing at the caption. It reminded me of the time I described someone as a peasant in Al's car while driving back to manchester from wales. The conversation was as usaul, full of racial tension ( we were talking about how I have a particular dislike for a country because they were the worse tenants my mom ever had (out of 2)), and I came to this description, where I said;" They (the tenants) behaved like PEASANTS!"
There was a momentary silence, and a sudden roar of laughter.
"You can't say that here in Britain, Jason!!"
"Why not? Peasants are, Peasants!!"
In a country where liberty and democracy are woven in the fabric of society, calling someone a peasant, was apparently, unacceptable, to a certain extent (though we did evolve hurling the word peasant at each other in light jest and banter afterwards). A word that reminded them of the golden age of Britain, where there were the aristocratic classes, the gentry, and of course, the peasants. Calling someone a peasant then, was determining him to be of the lower caste in society, and of course, reminding themselves what an awful time the victorian age was is, a habitual eccentricity of English humility.
In Singapore, the word peasant was taken to be as literal as can be, given by wikipedia:"A peasant is an agricultural worker who subsists by working a small plot of ground." Nothing more.
No insinuations of the colonial slavery that we endured, no misnomers of assuming someone to be of a lower class. A peasant, is a peasant thats all.
In a country like Singapore, where we have very little to think about, and very little that impacts the world (positive or negative), words are still very literal in meaning, there are hardly any hidden insinuations, or political correctness, or sensitivities that we have to constantly be alert of.
Growing up in a multi-cultural society has made each and everyone of us very much in tuned to one and another, such that any language that can be conceived as derogatory, are usually taken in jest in our little city state. Racial tensions? I think WE think, not.
Its strange how we can share a table with our Malay and Indian or Chinese friends, and have a meal with them, but neither of us races can tolerate a foreign entity like the Bangladeshi workers or PRCs who arrive in droves. We all are afterall, descendents of migrants, who like them, were only looking to earn more money for home.
But come a 150 years, and wind and rain, storms, wars and riots, many of us consider us first to be Singaporean, then our own skin colour, and that is, in itself, a great blessing. As long as these migrants do not step out of their comfort zones to engage Singapore for who we are (singlish speaking, gum chewing, complaining, orderly mess), they're never going to fit in.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Complaints from a resident tourist.
10 major gripes I have, about Singapore.
1) The heat.
I've always known that, but bad things are always the last things you remember. Its like the plethora of midges in the West Highlands, and the Mosquitoes in the Nature reserve. But yes. The heat. is almost intolerable.
Its not so much the heat, but the humidity. All it takes is a 5 minute walk to the bus stop to make me want to beg for a shower. How am I supposed to last the whole day like this?
I always beg that we eat in some place with air conditioning every time. I know. Its ridiculous.. but everywhere in singapore, is air conditioned. There is no reason why I can't enjoy my meal in cool creature comfort.
The worse bit? The strange stares I get from my friends, who then follow my beatitudes of complaints with; " Its very cold today what."
2) Personal Space.
This is a touchy issue. Very touchy. Literally. I've been to many many big metropolitan cities all over the world, and I've never felt so uncomfortable before. There was never an issue with personal space before, even in the larger and more crowded cities like London and Istanbul.
The thing is, Singaporeans have a penchant of walking very close to each other. Even thought they are strangers, all to one another. The distance between me and that stranger walking in the same direction? is too close. Its making me too uncomfortable, and I feel like pushing him away. Or shouting at him.
The worst part is, I feel dirty afterwards.
The humidity doesn't really help.
This correlates with a major Singaporean habit of suddenly stopping in their tracks, and blocking ALL traffic. WTF. Why can't you stop at the side? why must you suddenly make a U turn in the fucking middle of a crowd?? WHY!?
Basically, Singaporeans acknowledge that there is a lack of space in their country, therefore, in order to mentally cope with that, they block out images of crowds, and even if they are surrounded by huge ant like masses, they believe that they HAVE the right of way, because, no one else is around them. Its a strange psyche. I call it, the John Dorian Syndrome. Everyone in Singapore thinks they're John Dorian from Scrubs.
3) The Ang Mohs! Apa ini Ang Moh! WHY!
I swear, 3 years ago, there weren't that many ang mohs (caucasians, yes you, you white trash) in Singapore. It is so strange to return to see Marine Parade central CRAWLING with ang mohs (dressed in HDB auntie clothes, which makes it all the weirder), or SERANGOON with the regular Angmoh-after-work-crewe. Seriously.. I know that the government has been very encouraging with foreign talents, but this is totally strange. I like my Singapore yellow brown and black.
WORSE.. the regular ang moh usually has a young Singaporean/Filipina/PRC girl clinging on their arms, usually half their age, and definitely on any international scale, much more attractive.
Walking along orchard road one evening, we counted 8 such couples in half an hour, all of which fitted the atypical stereotype of old-middle-aged-balding-with-big-belly angmoh locking arms with slim-long-haired-young-asian. They're everywhere, and I have a tendency to scowl at them, or spit at them, or both.
Inter-racial couples are of course, acceptable, within reasonable grounds. But young asian girls hankering after unattractive white men is completely the actions of a harlot, and nothing less.
(p.s it was 9 couples, but i decided they didn't count, as the couple was in their 30s ish, equally attractive, and looked genuinely smiley happy, rather than the scowl or the fake smile commonly put up by the rest)
4) Singrish ah.
I tell u ah. Dis wan really buay tahan. Dunch know why hor, singapolean kanch not tok pwopery wan. Den hor, the people who tok rike dat hor, is all deh universitee student one you know or not. Make me hear already wan to vomit blood. The lao auntie lao uncle tok right dat I nevermind. but wah lao eh, young singapolean got tak chek one they tok until they like no go school like that. sian zi bua.
yes that was in english.
5) Public transportation.
I have to give it to our government. It is indeed the BEST system of public transportation in the world. But i just hate having to take it. Used to drive everywhere.
Oh.. but it is also the first time i got shoved on a train, by some stupid bitch. I retaliated by elbowing her, in the face.
6) Going out, is akin to travelling to city centre or something, from Eccles, or sometimes, Hebden Bridge.
Too used to living 15 minutes away from city centre in Manchester.
7) Vhere are zeh greehn spaces?
Really. Where? I miss caving and hiking, big time.
8) I can see my neighbours living room from where I am sitting. now.
Really. I hate it so much.
9) The children smell.
Everytime I board a bus to go somewhere in the afternoon, the buses are naturally packed full of very smelly teenagers and children who just got off from school. Seriously, why do they smell so bad? I swear I never smelt that bad!!
10) Huh.. joe-logy, Singapore can do what?
Firstly, its geology, secondly, alot of things.
1) The heat.
I've always known that, but bad things are always the last things you remember. Its like the plethora of midges in the West Highlands, and the Mosquitoes in the Nature reserve. But yes. The heat. is almost intolerable.
Its not so much the heat, but the humidity. All it takes is a 5 minute walk to the bus stop to make me want to beg for a shower. How am I supposed to last the whole day like this?
I always beg that we eat in some place with air conditioning every time. I know. Its ridiculous.. but everywhere in singapore, is air conditioned. There is no reason why I can't enjoy my meal in cool creature comfort.
The worse bit? The strange stares I get from my friends, who then follow my beatitudes of complaints with; " Its very cold today what."
2) Personal Space.
This is a touchy issue. Very touchy. Literally. I've been to many many big metropolitan cities all over the world, and I've never felt so uncomfortable before. There was never an issue with personal space before, even in the larger and more crowded cities like London and Istanbul.
The thing is, Singaporeans have a penchant of walking very close to each other. Even thought they are strangers, all to one another. The distance between me and that stranger walking in the same direction? is too close. Its making me too uncomfortable, and I feel like pushing him away. Or shouting at him.
The worst part is, I feel dirty afterwards.
The humidity doesn't really help.
This correlates with a major Singaporean habit of suddenly stopping in their tracks, and blocking ALL traffic. WTF. Why can't you stop at the side? why must you suddenly make a U turn in the fucking middle of a crowd?? WHY!?
Basically, Singaporeans acknowledge that there is a lack of space in their country, therefore, in order to mentally cope with that, they block out images of crowds, and even if they are surrounded by huge ant like masses, they believe that they HAVE the right of way, because, no one else is around them. Its a strange psyche. I call it, the John Dorian Syndrome. Everyone in Singapore thinks they're John Dorian from Scrubs.
3) The Ang Mohs! Apa ini Ang Moh! WHY!
I swear, 3 years ago, there weren't that many ang mohs (caucasians, yes you, you white trash) in Singapore. It is so strange to return to see Marine Parade central CRAWLING with ang mohs (dressed in HDB auntie clothes, which makes it all the weirder), or SERANGOON with the regular Angmoh-after-work-crewe. Seriously.. I know that the government has been very encouraging with foreign talents, but this is totally strange. I like my Singapore yellow brown and black.
WORSE.. the regular ang moh usually has a young Singaporean/Filipina/PRC girl clinging on their arms, usually half their age, and definitely on any international scale, much more attractive.
Walking along orchard road one evening, we counted 8 such couples in half an hour, all of which fitted the atypical stereotype of old-middle-aged-balding-with-big-belly angmoh locking arms with slim-long-haired-young-asian. They're everywhere, and I have a tendency to scowl at them, or spit at them, or both.
Inter-racial couples are of course, acceptable, within reasonable grounds. But young asian girls hankering after unattractive white men is completely the actions of a harlot, and nothing less.
(p.s it was 9 couples, but i decided they didn't count, as the couple was in their 30s ish, equally attractive, and looked genuinely smiley happy, rather than the scowl or the fake smile commonly put up by the rest)
4) Singrish ah.
I tell u ah. Dis wan really buay tahan. Dunch know why hor, singapolean kanch not tok pwopery wan. Den hor, the people who tok rike dat hor, is all deh universitee student one you know or not. Make me hear already wan to vomit blood. The lao auntie lao uncle tok right dat I nevermind. but wah lao eh, young singapolean got tak chek one they tok until they like no go school like that. sian zi bua.
yes that was in english.
5) Public transportation.
I have to give it to our government. It is indeed the BEST system of public transportation in the world. But i just hate having to take it. Used to drive everywhere.
Oh.. but it is also the first time i got shoved on a train, by some stupid bitch. I retaliated by elbowing her, in the face.
6) Going out, is akin to travelling to city centre or something, from Eccles, or sometimes, Hebden Bridge.
Too used to living 15 minutes away from city centre in Manchester.
7) Vhere are zeh greehn spaces?
Really. Where? I miss caving and hiking, big time.
8) I can see my neighbours living room from where I am sitting. now.
Really. I hate it so much.
9) The children smell.
Everytime I board a bus to go somewhere in the afternoon, the buses are naturally packed full of very smelly teenagers and children who just got off from school. Seriously, why do they smell so bad? I swear I never smelt that bad!!
10) Huh.. joe-logy, Singapore can do what?
Firstly, its geology, secondly, alot of things.
Friday, August 21, 2009
A new psyche.
Its been 4 days since returning, and still, I am not yet accustomed to this whole, being a singaporean living in singapore thing.
There is so much going on for and in Singapore, new shopping centres, changing skylines, frightfully advanced public transportation sytems, internet every-fucking-where, and the new emergence of foreign nationals.
Lets talk about that today.
I muse to myself how my own country is constantly clawing foreign talents from countries around us, rather than turning inwards to fill the gaps formed within. There are, of course, very many soft moaning voices that begrudgingly accept the changing norms within the society.
Of course, being a country made and build solely by immigrants, we really can't have an anti-immigration stance (other than reasons resulting from lacking of resources!!).
A Singaporean blogger recently mused that while he was looking for funding/scholarships for graduate school in the National University of Singapore, there was none, or meagre to be found. Of 5 scholarships he found, only 1 accepted Singaporean applications. Very strange indeed.
I do suppose that must be because most Singaporeans are affluent enough to fund their own undergraduate and postgraduate studies, especially when they only have to pay local fees, which really are, in comparison with British standards, much lower, more affordable, and some may argue, more value for money.
Anyway, you don't commonly hear a Singaporean being given funding, we call it scholarships here, because those who get it, are usually fucking smart... in exams anyway. While in the UK, it is relatively easy to get "funded". Scholarships are for the fucking ridiculously smart, and bursaries are for the poor.
In comparison, most people I know in Britain (who are British Subjects) and are doing a postgraduate course of some kind, are usually funded. Being funded means you don't pay school fees, and you get a monthly stipend, of about £900 for masters students and £1000 for PhD students. This of course is only applicable to UK citizens (not even EU.. maybe free school fees for the EU-ites).
Being a foreign alien, the tough gets going for me once I graduate. I graduated with a 2:1 degree, not fucking excellant, not that great really (blame it on the debauchery and the mountains), but I did do really well in my transcripts, thesis, essays and crap, plus, I have contributions to published work, and individual research work that is floating about waiting for a solid idea to stick to and be published. Still, I haven't the opportunity to even get footing in both the academia and in the industry.
Blame it on my subject, studying a rather subjective economy based science such as Geology, provisions for foreign graduates are few and far between. Shell quotes "regional requirements", BP just gives a flat refusal, and other smaller companies politely quote the economic recession and lack of projects.
Applying for studentships are also just as painful, being foreign means having to have almost twice the amount of funding for foreign fees, which means a load of beaurocratic bullshit.
Its almost like saying, I'm not welcomed in Britain as a foreigner, and not welcomed in Singapore as a citizen. So what should I do?
I was reading this article on some nutjob that moved to America to do what he always wanted to (something to do with computers). He thought that giving up everything to do what you want to, is always worth the initial troubles and difficulty, and thing will look up once you jump on the right bandwagon.
Being in a rather tumultous posit at the moment, I feel raw when questioned why do I still want to return to Britain on a restrictive (yet at least I can work there in anything I want) visa, or even worse, return to Britain without anything waiting or not even a substantive plan.
Things would have been much much easier if I stayed in Singapore, studied Architecture, and graduated, and landed a job locally in some design firm, paid CPF, did reservist, bought a car, got married, had kids, retired, and died. Why did I have to be different?
As usual, there really isn't a why.
There is so much going on for and in Singapore, new shopping centres, changing skylines, frightfully advanced public transportation sytems, internet every-fucking-where, and the new emergence of foreign nationals.
Lets talk about that today.
I muse to myself how my own country is constantly clawing foreign talents from countries around us, rather than turning inwards to fill the gaps formed within. There are, of course, very many soft moaning voices that begrudgingly accept the changing norms within the society.
Of course, being a country made and build solely by immigrants, we really can't have an anti-immigration stance (other than reasons resulting from lacking of resources!!).
A Singaporean blogger recently mused that while he was looking for funding/scholarships for graduate school in the National University of Singapore, there was none, or meagre to be found. Of 5 scholarships he found, only 1 accepted Singaporean applications. Very strange indeed.
I do suppose that must be because most Singaporeans are affluent enough to fund their own undergraduate and postgraduate studies, especially when they only have to pay local fees, which really are, in comparison with British standards, much lower, more affordable, and some may argue, more value for money.
Anyway, you don't commonly hear a Singaporean being given funding, we call it scholarships here, because those who get it, are usually fucking smart... in exams anyway. While in the UK, it is relatively easy to get "funded". Scholarships are for the fucking ridiculously smart, and bursaries are for the poor.
In comparison, most people I know in Britain (who are British Subjects) and are doing a postgraduate course of some kind, are usually funded. Being funded means you don't pay school fees, and you get a monthly stipend, of about £900 for masters students and £1000 for PhD students. This of course is only applicable to UK citizens (not even EU.. maybe free school fees for the EU-ites).
Being a foreign alien, the tough gets going for me once I graduate. I graduated with a 2:1 degree, not fucking excellant, not that great really (blame it on the debauchery and the mountains), but I did do really well in my transcripts, thesis, essays and crap, plus, I have contributions to published work, and individual research work that is floating about waiting for a solid idea to stick to and be published. Still, I haven't the opportunity to even get footing in both the academia and in the industry.
Blame it on my subject, studying a rather subjective economy based science such as Geology, provisions for foreign graduates are few and far between. Shell quotes "regional requirements", BP just gives a flat refusal, and other smaller companies politely quote the economic recession and lack of projects.
Applying for studentships are also just as painful, being foreign means having to have almost twice the amount of funding for foreign fees, which means a load of beaurocratic bullshit.
Its almost like saying, I'm not welcomed in Britain as a foreigner, and not welcomed in Singapore as a citizen. So what should I do?
I was reading this article on some nutjob that moved to America to do what he always wanted to (something to do with computers). He thought that giving up everything to do what you want to, is always worth the initial troubles and difficulty, and thing will look up once you jump on the right bandwagon.
Being in a rather tumultous posit at the moment, I feel raw when questioned why do I still want to return to Britain on a restrictive (yet at least I can work there in anything I want) visa, or even worse, return to Britain without anything waiting or not even a substantive plan.
Things would have been much much easier if I stayed in Singapore, studied Architecture, and graduated, and landed a job locally in some design firm, paid CPF, did reservist, bought a car, got married, had kids, retired, and died. Why did I have to be different?
As usual, there really isn't a why.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
West Highland way in 5 days.
The idea was borne out of sheer admiration for the highlands while I was on tour with my mother. The proposition was made through a text message, which followed an enthusiastic reply a couple of hours later.
The aim was simple, in theory. We had to cover 95 miles (132 km) in 5 days, we would camp in the wild, and on the odd day, stay in a wild bothy if lucky. There would be no facilities, no toilets, nothing. We will have to carry 5 days worth of food and snacks, and there is no giving up. Sounds easy enough when said.
After a couple of days of hasty planning and tent purchasing, we set off to our impending doom.
Driving up on Friday night to camp out in Milngavie was the right thing to do, it meant that we had a full day 1, and also we were well rested, instead of being flabbergasted from a reasonably boring 4 hour drive from Manchester.
Day 1: Milngavie to Balmaha (20 miles, 30km)
The Beginning.Closer to Drymen, the "normal" stop for "normal" people, we found that we were alone, apart from a triple of rather inadequate walkers who were ridiculously slow, and we never saw any of them for the rest of the trip, again. The reason why there wasn't anyone anymore was because no one was going to Balmaha, it was just us, crazy nutters, doing it in 5 days. Fucking mad.
The climb at the end of Balmaha up conic hill proved to be the killer. After climbing very many tall hills and mountains in Britain, that 185 metres seemed like HELL after about 16 miles of walking with full load. I swear, even Scafell and Pike via Eskdale seemed like a piece of piss afterwards.
After a lot of moaning, we arrived at the bottom of Conic hill, and despite being overall short by 1 mile, we decided to camp as we had decidedly found a spot near water (a tap in a carpark), and it was relatively midge free as well.
Day 2: Balamaha to Inverarnan (21 miles)
We knew from the guide book that this was going to be a killer day. It was meant to be the hardest and most tiring day due to the convulations and undulations in the path. It was meant to be fucking true. To the ounce. The highest climb was 80m. I have never done anything harder in my life. That was my mantra throughout the 2nd day. There were serious doubts if we could even complete the walk, and at moments, the atmosphere was tense.
Loch LomondTowards the end of Day 2, it began to pour it down, and the route was becoming ridiculously hard, there were large boulders and tree roots to get over, and this took up alot of time and energy, at the end of the day we found that we were only doing 0.5 miles per half hour, and that was absymmal compared to our aim of 2.5 to 3 miles an hour! We were still 2 miles of short, excluding the 1 mile we failed to meet yesterday, in total, we were 3 miles short.
Duone ByrneAs such, we arose on Day 3 feeling refreshed and once again, rearing to go.
Day 3: Inverarnan to Bridge of Orch (19 miles, ended up doing 22)
So, we set off at 0830, and walked very extremely briskly towards Inverarnan to catch up with the 3 miles lost over 2 days. We did it in an hour, used the Inverarnan campsite facilities to top up our waters, had a butty breakkfast, and went off towards Crianlarich.
View above CrianlarichNo one else, was going to the Bridge of Orchy.
The day started with a lovely valley/woodland terrain toward Tyndrum, and the midges started becoming a nuisance everytime we stopped, as such, we always looked for a spot without midges before having a break.
View along the way to Bridge of OrchyThe views were stunning, this was at last, the proper highland scenery that we are so accustomed to through the media, photos, and previous experiences. Walking through the glen along the A road, and the highland railway was a stunning and spiritual experience.
However, in the last 1.5 miles, pain kicked in, 3 days straight of 20 ish mile walking had taken a toll on our feets. My feet and toes were swollen, and there was an unbearable pain originating from my ankles. It was agony. We knew that it was a combination of heavy packs and horrible roads that did this to us, but we knew had to do this, and complete what we set out to do.
Now, it wasn't just a sightseeing walking tour, but a mission, something to prove to myself. I could do it, I will do it, and I wanted to do it. It was like as if it was our own special way to worship and pay homage to the beautiful scenery that surrounded us. Every wood, hillock, mountain, corbett, munro, glen, corrie there was along the way. It was like mass for the walker. We will finish what we set off to complete.
Arriving at BOO was wonderful. We were anxious to set camp and go to rest, however, the midge situation at BOO was terrific. The midges were so thick it was literally difficult to breathe or to blink without one catching in our eye/mouth! After 20 mins of dallying with our tents, we decided to give up and pay £15 for a bunkhouse.
It was heaven. Never had a better night in my life, and never felt more comfortable.
Day 4: Bridge of Orchy to Kingshouse (14 miles)
Everyone on the WHW does this stretch this way. It wasn't going to be any different for us because we knew that it was dangerous to camp near Altna Feadh, at the opening of the Highland's 3 greatest glens. If the weather turned, we would be so screwed we would literally, DIE. So to be on the safe side, camp with everyone else by the Kinghouse inn!
Rannoch Moor. Boring killer.The walk was a killer. 3 days of 20 miles each really took a toll on our feet and our souls. Everyone walked past us, the 90 year old german walker, the nice english couple who kept telling us to cheer up. They were all tourists, who hired pack carriers and stayed in BnBs, but hell, I wasn't about to listen to a bunch of people who had enough money to pay for BEDs!
GrubDay 5: Kingshouse to FORT WILLIAM (22 miles, but we have to camp at the only campsite at 20miles).
This is it, the final push. We were going to go through one of the most dramatic sceneries of the Scottish Highlands, Glen Coe and Lairrigmor. There was no screwing this one up.
We were relatively fresh, and managed to blitz through the first 9 miles easily, reaching Kinlochleven at 1pm ish, stopping for a 1 hour lunch break at the local coop.
KingshouseAnyway.. those bits weren't too bad because we actually remembered them. These were the areas that we spent 4 to 5 days studying for our 2nd Year Scotland field trip, and it was by all measure, a welcome familiarity.
Passing through the Old Military Road, we ended in Lairigmor, that big painful pass that took forever to walk, horrendously exposed to the elements, and not at all easy. It took us a good 6 hours to cut through the pass, and we were very unfortunately overtaken by a couple of lady non-breeders.
Despite the odds, the bad feet, the blisters and the painful swollen ankles, we had to get to the Glen Nevis campsite that night. We desperately wanted a shower, and of course, food.
The sky was getting ridiculously dark, and it was it even darker in the forest that surrounde us in the final mile, that was all that essential to burst out of in the light.
Finally, we made it, we emerged through the forest, and there it was, the bloody campsite, a mere 600 yds aay and there it was Ben Nevis, large, like a table, a big flat top rock, like a jarhead marine, framed by pink flowers. We were only 1.5 miles away from completion
Ben NevisThe very next morning, we headed along the metal road as suggested by the campsite lady and hit jackpot less than 45 minutes later at the obelisk that marked the end of the walk. The elation, wasn't really there, it was overshadowed by the previous night's burst out of the eternal forest, and nice warm shower, but it was nevertheless a proud moment that marked a new age, and also, the end of the fatigue.
Lastly, I wouldn't suggest to anyone who wants to do the WHW to do it in 5 days. It depends on what you want to acheive. We did it in 5 days because Frost could not take that many days off work, and I needed to get on a flight to Istanbul on Friday. It turned out to be a massive challenge, so much more than what I had expected, and it was very very difficult.
The suggestion is, if you just want to enjoy the walk, and have a great touristy time, do it in 6 or 7 days, if you want to challenge yourself, and make it an amazing trip, work your calves and feet, and do it in 5. The pleasure of a challenge is always a big turn on.
Photos are all mine, quality is crap because i've got to smallerise it.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
The clocks start ticking.
In exactly 27 hours, the travel bug will kick alive. I'll be on my way back to manchester, in prep for my exciting big hike, and almost immediatly after that, on a plane to Istanbul, and 3 days after that, Singapore. Its going to be a very long 12 days of walking, travelling and flying. But its going to be ace.
This makes up for the uncertainty for the future, and the difficult road ahead.
I am in a dilemna. I just got another rejection from a job, with the British Antartic Survey. It was a crap job that I didn't really want, and plus, i'd have to relocate to cambridgeshire. which is boring, cave-less and flat. But I thought I should just apply for it anyway.
There are other things on the plate that are so much more tasty and interesting, like the Research job in MMU, and the PhD in Leicester, but I know that they are long shots, miracles in themselves, even though they are on the top of the list of jobs that I really want. I know I shouldn't feel sorry for myself that I didn't get the BAS job, because I have even better things to hope for and look forward to, the job was right at the bottom of the list!! but I still can't help feeling a little pooped out from having 1 too many rejection letters from utterly shit jobs that I think i'm overqualified for.
Like what someone from the geology department said to me; it'll come eventually, and you wouldn't know it when it does, but it'll come soon enough, and it'll all be alright.
This makes up for the uncertainty for the future, and the difficult road ahead.
I am in a dilemna. I just got another rejection from a job, with the British Antartic Survey. It was a crap job that I didn't really want, and plus, i'd have to relocate to cambridgeshire. which is boring, cave-less and flat. But I thought I should just apply for it anyway.
There are other things on the plate that are so much more tasty and interesting, like the Research job in MMU, and the PhD in Leicester, but I know that they are long shots, miracles in themselves, even though they are on the top of the list of jobs that I really want. I know I shouldn't feel sorry for myself that I didn't get the BAS job, because I have even better things to hope for and look forward to, the job was right at the bottom of the list!! but I still can't help feeling a little pooped out from having 1 too many rejection letters from utterly shit jobs that I think i'm overqualified for.
Like what someone from the geology department said to me; it'll come eventually, and you wouldn't know it when it does, but it'll come soon enough, and it'll all be alright.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Signs of trailing.
I am a complete numbnut.
I thought that the application for BAS was due in on the 27th not the 26th. So when I saw that I had 10 minutes to complete it, I rushed through it. Like mad.
I usually use very detailed and careful wording highlighting my work, and experience in job applications. It might possibly come across as arrogant, and well, egoistical, or even fanatically self-indulgent, at best.
Shit. i'm so not getting that job.
shit.
I thought that the application for BAS was due in on the 27th not the 26th. So when I saw that I had 10 minutes to complete it, I rushed through it. Like mad.
I usually use very detailed and careful wording highlighting my work, and experience in job applications. It might possibly come across as arrogant, and well, egoistical, or even fanatically self-indulgent, at best.
Shit. i'm so not getting that job.
shit.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Where are we now?
In about 12 hours, I will file into a large hall, dressed in my scarlet robes and mortar board. I will receive that certificate that will be my stepping stone into the society.
There are thousands of us all over the country who have received this ritual of blessing from lofty instituitions all over Britain in the past 2 weeks. Robed in colours hue of wisdom and learning, we are immersed into the sanctity of what our school fees have afforded us.
This sanctity, brewed from 3 years of hard work, is more for some and less for others. But so much for me. Living away for 3 years, has been nothing short of an adventure momentous to none. I have seen, I have walked, I have eaten. I have touched and felt what I could have, and I could have it all.
I now stand at the edge of the cliff of life, once hand in hand with my scholarly comrades, now ready to let go, to jump, and to fall, or to soar. Which is it?
There are thousands of us all over the country who have received this ritual of blessing from lofty instituitions all over Britain in the past 2 weeks. Robed in colours hue of wisdom and learning, we are immersed into the sanctity of what our school fees have afforded us.
This sanctity, brewed from 3 years of hard work, is more for some and less for others. But so much for me. Living away for 3 years, has been nothing short of an adventure momentous to none. I have seen, I have walked, I have eaten. I have touched and felt what I could have, and I could have it all.
I now stand at the edge of the cliff of life, once hand in hand with my scholarly comrades, now ready to let go, to jump, and to fall, or to soar. Which is it?
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