Running for Water

Last Sunday Ruth and I got up early. This is something that we both do far too regularly on Sunday (and Saturday come to that), but this time we had a good reason.

In January a company email invited me to run for water... not becuase we really need to here, but because in Africa lots of people do. Aparently the average distance is 6km, so Water Aid arranged a series of 6km runs 'for water'. The Singapore version start on the grand prix grid, and we got to have a good nosy around the pits - which are really quite boring when they're not full of cars.

The run was a nice picturesque flat route around the bay, which the Dodgess and I did in about 42 minutes, which was well into the top half. This is by no means my fastest ever 6km, but it's my first ever timed 6km. So in that it is a personal best I guess. And we did enjoy it. Being Singapore it was impeccably organised - we waited all of 30 seconds to collect our bags, and arrived on the newly opened (1 day old) Metro system. They did though miss a trick with the water stops. Surely they should have made us run 6km for our water - not given it to us after 3km... Mind you, even at 8am the temperature was nudging 28 or so, and the humidity probably over 80%. We certainly appreciated getting the water 3km early!

I didn't really get too many photos... but the one below shows the pits - and also my work tower in the background...

 

Copy Editing

It is almost four years since I sat in my dissertation oral exam answering questions on my final year research project. I had obviously bored the examiners, for with about five minutes left the question left the topic, and moved onto my plans after graduation. One of them asked if I was considering a PhD. 


"Good heavens no! Why would I want to do that?" I replied.In hindsight, it might not have been the most subtle reply to the two professors with 80 years combined lecturing experience, but hey, I still passed.


At the time, I figured I still needed my niche within my family - i.e. not having a PhD. And frankly, I was somewhat fed up of university by then, having spent four years there.


I got thinking about this while helping the Dodgess check through her PhD thesis, which she has now printed out 3 times for submission. Each time costs the earth about 5 trees, and almost as much money by the time that binding and posting the thing from Singapore to the UK by courrier is taken into account. It does strike me that my parents had it better with their PhD. Perhaps they have rose tinted specs.


My Dad completed his final write up within a tiny amount of time, and it came to perhaps 20000 works. My Mum's is even better. Having had a useless day proving something that she didn't want to prove, she went to a party, and found that someone was interested in what she had proved. She went home, and picked the proof from the bin et voila, le Thesis est complet.


I have to say that I don't really think that things are bad just for The Dodgess. My elder brother had some almighty wrangles with an almighty univeristy to get his day under robes. His girlfriend wrote her thesis, only to find that the experiments she thought would show something didn't quite. And as for my younger brother, well he hasn't yet started. But I hope that it ends rather more smoothly than it's inception and offer.


So, with all this, do I still feel that my gut reaction was correct all thoses years back. Sort of. On the one hand I have had none of these issues above, but The Dodgess' PhD has been great for me to watch develop. It has taken us to Dublin, Washington DC, Boston, and best of all Vancouver. We have also explored every good music shop in every city we've been to scouring for second hand treasures to analyse.


And for each of the down times (the second list of corrections, a mad Canadian wanting us to sign confidentiality contracts) there has, I think, been an upside. 


So, here's hoping that all the printing is now done. That by the end of the week the last mailing is done, and that we don't have to see 'Ellie' again until she is nicely bound together, and sitting on our bookshelf!

The joy of rain

Having spent years and years complaining about rain it felt somewhat ironic when writing in an email to a friend 'thankfully the rain came at about 4pm', but the truth is here - I LIKE THE RAIN.

What I really mean is, I like days when it rains - I'd rather not be caught in the rain. You see, over here the rain is only ever biblical. You never get a shower. You never get a little drizzle. It's like a quarter turn tap - it's either on full speed or off.

However, the rain tends to come when it is most needed - i.e. the place has gotten rather too hot. On Saturday it was a mere 35C at 3.30pm, the humidity must have been pretty high, and just walking around the flat felt like walking around in a steam room. Then the clouds came, we had a pretty spectacular thunderstorm, by 4.15 the temp was 25C, then sun was back out, and it was all pleasant once again.

Of course - getting stuck in the rain is not quite so funny. The rain tends to reduce visibility to about 500m, which is pretty good going. Within minutes the highways have turned to mini rivers, and the requirement to design for 200mm of rain in one hour becomes justified. It also seems to work - there is prettly little in the way of ponding out on the roads!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Getting around

I used to really hate buses in Birmingham. You could get aclimatised to them and they didn't seem so bad, but I think that was more to do with passive smoking of pot than any actual reduction in disgust.


But even on the rare occasion that they were clean, and the air reasonably smoke free, they still annoyed me. For a start, every bus went to, or came from the City Centre. Bar none that I can think of. (Actually, there was a bus once an hour that went from University to West Brom, but I'm not sure that once an hour actually counts as a service - just a bus). Consequently they were useless.


From my apartment here, there are about 6 buses, none of which end up at the same place, and they start from at least 3 different places too! And they are regular-ish. Most come every 10 minutes or so, and when I want to go to work they come every 3-5 minutes. (Slight pity about the way back, when they don't, particularly when the rain is as biblical as it was today).


Nonetheless, there is an actual bus network, and you can get almost everywhere on this island in a maximum of two buses.


Then there is the MRT system. Until about 5 years ago this was just 2 lines, which is already 4. The latest stretch opened on Saturday, and the Dodgess and I were among the first to use it on Sunday. It is very swish, even if it doesn't quite have the class of Washington DC did when it first opened. 


A 5th line is in construction, and they will shortly be designing a sixth. I myself am designing an extension to the very first one over near the bridge to Malaysia. After being in the UK, where everything is about using things better, about doing more with less, it is quite refreshing to have a client who has ambition, and an ability to see things done.

Brahms at the Esplanade

Last night I played my first concert in Singapore. It consisted of Brahms' First Symphony, and that was it.


Before any of you develop strange ideas, this was not a case of a strange Asian ritual where the spread a 45 minute piece over two halves of a concert - more of an educational concert consisting of excerpts first, and full performance second.


In the UK a concert such as this would spell disaster. Some complete unknown who couldn't speak English would read some unpenetrable guff, and 40 of the 50 people in the audience would leave before we got the chance to play the piece in full. Consequently it was with distinct aprehension that I turned up for the first rehearsal in a sports centre near the other end of the island.

The conductor, Lim Yao, has a reputation for being rather strict. In fact, he takes strictness to a level that an amateur orchestra would not accept in the UK. Firstly, there were no breaks. We played straight through for 150 minutes. He wasn't shy to criticise either - 'you're the lead cello, you can't just sit back as if you were back desk and not lead' or 'oboe - each week equally out of tune - why? can you not afford an oboe that can play in tune? You went to an expensive school surely you can afford an oboe?'


But, Mr Lim did always know what he wanted. And had both the time and resolution to get what he wanted. It's a long time since I've paid so much attention to a single piece of music - ironically enough, also Brahms.


The concert, held in the Esplanade, which is Singapore's version of Symphony Hall was successful - we had plenty of audience (certainly high hundreds), and the presenter was pretty good, the audience even participated - and ONLY when invited to. The full play through also went well. 


Afterwards the Dodgess and I meandered over to one of Singapore's top hotels. Why? One of her colleagues does a jazz night there each Thursday. So we popped in for half a session and a very chilled out fruit tea - one of the best ways I've ever come across to relax after a concert!

Here are some photos of the Esplanade (not actually from last night, but when I went to the opera the Dodgess played in during January. It is a really nice hall to play in - reminiscent of Symphony Hall, but a bit warmer. Incidently, designed by the same architect, but he gave up on the orange in favour of a green.

Ok - so we're not allowed to photo inside the halls, but this is pretty nice for the bar area!