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Thoughts Travels

Wetlands Center London

The London Wetlands Center, see previous article (click here), promised some wonderful sights of wild birds, rare and beautiful wildlife including Bitterns, Kingfishers and a colony of endangered Water Voles.

It is a great place to visit, and there are lots of birds to see, but they are a little scarce or low in numbers.

When you consider the numbers of swans in Kingston on the River Thames (CLICK TO SEE PICTURE), compared with one or two swans swimming in the lake or, with a signet resting in the grass with one of its’ parents in the Wetlands Center it, is a little disappointing.


Swans on the River Thames, Kingston upon Thames  A signet with its' swan mother at Wetlands, London
Swans on the River Thames at Kingston                           A signet with its’ swan mother at Wetlands

I did catch sight of an endangered Water Vole, and a couple of its’ young, but they are shy animals and difficult to photograph. Still I saw more than most people, as they just walked straight passed the area where the Water Voles were.


An endangered Water Vole at London’s Wetlands Center.

I had to smile at the small young birds following mother, or just floating there, not worried if I was watching them or not.

Young duckings with mother at Wetlands, London
Young ducklings with mother at Wetlands, London

White-headed duckling at the Wetlands Center, London
White-headed duckling at the Wetlands Center, London


Part of the London Wetlands Center, is devoted to as I call them “other makes” of wildfowl, and I found the experience of observing and learning about the birds, relaxing and absorbing.

Some of the pictures I will show in Londons Wetlands Center next.

Categories
Travels

Wetland Centre (WWT) in West London

One of the great benefits of the type of work I do, training, is that I do not have to do a 9 – 5 (nine to five) job, Monday to Friday. My working week can start or end anytime, Saturday, Wednesday, and it can last for weeks before I have a break between the courses.

The drawn back is that I often do not have a clue as to what day of the week it is, what is the day of the month. I have no markers. I loose track of time, the day of the week, the day of the month.

“Oh it’s Friday night, let’s go out dancing, or partying.” “TGF.” mean nothing to me now.

My “weekend” could be any day I am not training or working with private clients..

Great. Because if my days off is a Monday through to Friday, then most people are at work, so shops, places of interest are less crowded.

Near to where I live here in Kingston upon Thames are many open places, Royal Parks, Richmond Park (see video an pictures), gardens like Kew Gardens, and historic buildings, Syon Park, Hampton Court, and the River Thames. (see video) 

It is amazing how much open space is available in London.

One such place is called the Wetlands Center in West London, owned and administered by the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust (WWT), which was founded by the late Sir Peter Scott in 1946. The Wetlands Center is a 43 hectare site located on the River Thames near Barnes.

On a lovely warm sunny day, it was decided to go and see what wildlife was there, armed with a bun to eat for lunch, water, binoculars and cameras, I felt as if I was Dr Livingstone going to explore the depths of Africa.

The Wetlands Center, used to be reservoirs to supply water to London, but became redundant in the 1980’s, and was taken over to be landscaped into a the wetland site, with islands, lots of water, ponds and lakes, reed beds, sand banks, walkways and viewing areas, a shop educational center plus restaurant. Everything wildfowl and humans would need.

Not quite in the center of London, but very close to it, it is very strange to think that very close are main routes into London, with racing cars and lorries, trains, tubes, aircraft, and yet it is so quiet and peaceful. Also strange to realise is that the Wetlands Center is surrounded by millions of people, their dwellings and offices they live and work in, schools and factories, yet the site is quiet, with no rushing around.


The Wetland Centre London, so peaceful, heaven for wildlife and humans alike.
The Wetland Centre London, so peaceful, heaven for wildlife and humans alike.

The Wetland Centre London, with just a few people in the distance.
The Wetland Centre London, with just a few people in the distance



Getting to the Wetlands Center is quite easy, by car, bike, the Duck Bus from nearby Hammersmith, or by train. The train from Kingston upon Thames or London Waterloo calls at Barnes, a small station in the middle of no-where. There are no houses, shops, factories, just a long access road leading to the main Hammersmith to Putney road, which again is like a country road, no civilisation, just cars.

Leaving the station there is a sign directing you to London Wetlands Center, but once on the main road, there is nothing, no directions. Apparently the local council do not want any more signs be put in place, which is fine if you know the area, not so good if you are lost. Asking a few people and a long walk later, the small uninspiring entrance to the Wetlands Center was found.

More to follow. Wetlands Center London

Categories
Thoughts Travels

Globe trotter, jet setter.

Globe trotter. Jet setter. Lucky.

Names I have been called for the type of work I do.

Yes I travel a lot with my work as an International Trainer. China, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, India, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Italy etc. Then there are the holiday trips, Peru, Ecuador, the Galapagos Island, Iceland, Thailand, Spain, Bali.

Yester-year, travel or air fares were cheap, but with governments putting taxes on travelers and the cost of fuel, it is getting more and more expensive.

The major national carrier airlines, British Airlines, Alitalia, Turkish Airlines, Malaysian Airlines, Gulf Air, are cutting corners in trying to save money, and in the light of increased competition from start-up airlines and the low cost cheap carriers like Asia Air, EasyJet, Ryann Air, Onur Air, offering less and less.

Often, as you start looking for prices to get from A to B and back to A again, the low cost airlines seem to be cheaper. But, it is the hidden add-ons, to pay for a snack and a drink, to pay to put a suitcase or luggage in the aircraft hold, the cost of getting to an airfield, the taxes, that the true cost is revealed, and there is not so much difference in pricing.

For me, I live about twenty minutes from Heathrow, and by taxi, I would pay about £30 (Pounds Stirling). Luton Airport where most of EasyJet flight depart will take perhaps one hour thirty minutes by taxi at a cost of £80 (pounds Stirling). Stansted Airport where most of Ryann Air depart from is a good two hours away, and about £110 (Pounds Stirling) by taxi.

Then where do they land at the destination. Add that cost into the equation, and the scheduled, national carriers are often cheaper.

My trip to Verona (see article) required me to firstly go to Bergamo to work with and visit my colleague Alessio Roberti recovering from a knee operation.

There is an airport, Orio, which is 10 minutes away, but to fly to it would mean a 5:30am departure from Luton Airport. How would I get there. Too expensive for a taxi, no public transport at that time of the night, and I cannot drive and leave the car there, as I will not return to Luton Airport but Gatwick, the other side of London.

The best way to get to Italy was to fly from Heathrow’s Terminal 5 at 11:00am with British Airways, BA576.

A quick bus ride for £2 (Pound Stirling) to Heathrow, and a short underground/tube/metro ride to the new Terminal 5, my first visit. I left the tube station via the escalator for Departures. All well to the next floor level up with lots of signs for Arrivals, but once there, no signs for Departures located on the next floor (top floor). I could not find or see an escalator to take me up there, and I was not the only one. The only way I could get there was to take a lift down to the tube station and then a lift back up to departures. I was confused.

The flight to Italy, would take me to Milan’s Malpensa airport, an hours bus ride into the center of Milan. From the center of Milan there would be another bus ride to Bergamo where I would be picked up, another hours ride.

After visiting Alessio and his lovely family, I had to get to Verona, This involved a train journey from a small station called Traviolo, again about an hour. Riding the Italian railways is an experience, good clean trains, but the stations seem to only have name sign, so depending were you are seated, you either know where you are or not. Catching the 9pm train meant that there was no way I would see the sign of Verona anyway. The only way was to hope the train would be on time, and I knew the expected arrival time, so get off then. Trouble was the train stopped outside Verona station.

My flight back from Verona was BA2599 at 10 pm, it would mean an arrival at Gatwick at 11 pm, enough time for me to get across from arrivals to the train station, catch a train towards London, change at Clapham Junction for the local train back to Kingston upon Thames, the last train being 1am.  

Having been dropped off at the airport early by Raffaele Tovazzi at the airport, I had three hours to wait for my flight. Well that will be enough time for a meal at the restaurant, not quite up to the usual high standard and quality food of Italy, but I can sit and relax. I sit eating some sort of meat and my eye caught the departure screen, my flight BA2599 delayed 45 minutes.

Oh Poo Poo, not good. Not only that but a plane load of tourists had their flight delayed and were given vouchers for a meal in the restaurant, meaning I would have to leave.

I went outside and sat in the car park and watched the sunset, tired, fed-up and concerned if BA would actually get me home.



Sunset at Verona Airport

Eventually the flight left Verona at 23:00. Oh Poo Poo, would I catch a train?

I raced through the terminal upon arrival, purchased a train ticket, and then asked when the next train to London was.

Big Oh Poo Poo, it had gone, the next one would be one and a half hours later, and I would not get a train back to Kingston. Idiot, why didn’t I ask first before buying the ticket?

Nothing for it, order a taxi. £45 (Pound Stirling), and back home at 2:30 am.

Globe trotter, jet setter. Forget it. Stay at home.

Categories
NLP Travels

My trip to Verona as a tourist.

As always, my travels are not sight seeing trips, as the day before, I usually catch the last flight to the place the course will be held, or if possible the first flight out arriving a couple of hours prior to the course starting.

This was the case in the Society of NLP, Master Practitioner course, (click for photograph),organised by NLPItaly in Verona. I caught the 6:20am flight from London Gatwick.

After being picked up by my translator Raffaele Tovazzi, at 9:30am from Verona‘s small airport, booking into the hotel and setting-up the course room as I like it, we had time on our hands, time for a leisurely lunch.

Verona, is a very small city, so we were soon in the town center, parking very close to the Arena, a Roman amphitheatre, built AD 30, and in such good condition. So good is the structure, they hold operas and concerts on a regular basis. The night I was there it was the opera Tosca, but I would not have time to enjoy such culture.


 
The Roman Arena, Verona

Raffaele took me on an easy walk through the traffic free town center, full of shops and well dressed shoppers, so clean and with old charm, unlike the streets of Milan which are full of parked cars and buildings of a recent era, so box like.

 
The Archway to the courtyard of Romeo and Juliet.  Lovers in the Archway with messages of love

We approached a small archway entrance in a shopping street. This archway, covered with, graffiti, messages of love written by lovers, cuddling and kissing, opened out into a little courtyard, with the balcony of Romeo and Juliet, known throughout the world by William Shakespeare’s 1594 play Romeo and Juliet.


The balcony of Romeo and Juliet

Was Shakespeare’s story true? The house belonged to a family called Capello, which is close enough to Capulet, Juliet’s family name. I understand the balcony was added in the 1930’s, so why are the tourists so engrossed in the attraction, and to the bronze statue of Giulietta?


The statue of Giulietta in Verona

This recent addition of the statue of Giulietta, has become an attraction in its own right. Being bronze, the metal is quite dark, except for her right breast, now a bright polished yellowish patch, where tourists, mostly males, have their pictures taken. I refused to have mine taken, mostly because there was a big queue.

Many towns now have similar statues, stones, shrines, to be visited, viewed, touched, where you place your hand in a hole in a rock, Rome, touch the head of a bronze elephant, Penang’s Goddess of Mercy, complete a circular movement on a spot, Milan, all giving the person something to believe in.

Belief is so strong, and let it be so.

I had my half an hour of being a tourist, and I enjoyed it.

Categories
Thoughts

Another bloom coming

It was whilst I was taking photographs of the cactus that bloomed, (see articles Little pieces of beauty and Just like a bus), that I decided to illustrate the long stemmed plant I talked about.




To my amazement, it too is going to bloom.


Adenium obesum var. multiflorum

I had been sitting here, and not noticing.

 
Adenium obesum var. multiflorum in our garden in Bukit Mertajam, Malaysia.

How Adenium obesum var. multiflorum flowers in the wild or in our garden in Bukit Mertajam, Malaysia. See More Beauty in our Garden, Flowering Orchids, for more plants and strange things.



Here you can see the rather bulbous base of the Adenium obesum var. multiflorum in a pot in the garden in Bukit Mertajam,  Malaysia, rather than the thin stems seen in the picture at the top of this article here in Norbiton Hall, UK.

It is the small things we miss.

Categories
Thoughts

Little pieces of beauty

Often, when we are feeling down, when life is getting too much, all we see is the negative of what life is throwing at us.

Perhaps someone is not contacting us, and we feel alone an neglected.

Perhaps the chocolate cake has not risen enough in the oven, and has sunk in the middle.

Perhaps there is not a patch of blue sky to be seen, just cloud hanging over us.

Perhaps what we had hoped and expected to happen, has not.

The more we sit waiting for things to improve, the worse life becomes.

Oh Poo Poo.

For years, the window ledge of the front windows of the flat, overlooking the busy road which used to flood (see pictures Floods in Kingston upon Thames) so much here near Norbiton Hall, there have been plants in a various assortments of plant pots.

An Amaryllis, with it’s large bell-like flowers lasting for a couple of days, leaving for the rest of the year, long green leaves.

An Aloe Vera plant that gets more and more like a Triffid.

A strange long stemmed plant with little tufts of leaves at the top of the stem. See article on Adenium obesum var. multiflorum. Tomorrow.

And then there are the cactus plants, that are so slow in growing, even a kettle boils quicker, and they do nothing.

It is that one moment, blink and you miss it, that the cactus blooms, and yesterday it was such a moment.

A delicate yellow bloom, with petals so thin they were like rice paper, as if you could see through them. I dare not touch them.


Cactus bloom. A delicate yellow bloom, with petals so thin they were like rice paper, as if you could see through them.

How often do we miss that one moment of beauty, happiness, joy? Let them slip through our fingers, like sand on the beach.

Today the bloom has not opened, but I still have the memories that will last a lifetime, to draw me out of the depths of doom and gloom.

Use “Phillip’s Sausage” to see, hear and feel more. Please do not miss out or dismiss to good things in your life.


See next article Another bloom coming and Just like a bus

PS. If you know the name of the cactus, please drop me a comment.

Categories
Thoughts

My stuff has some good things, Ham Radio

Whilst throwing out my old “stuff” (The throw-away society), I came across my amateur radio equipment which I have not used for many years.

It was way back at an early age that my interest in the propagation of radio signals was born. How do radios and TV’s work?

How can a sound or a picture be sent through the ether, the air, to be heard the other side of the world.

On a Sunday lunchtime, we would listen to the BBC‘s Two-Way Family Favourites, a program where, families in the UK, would send messages to the soldiers, sailors and airmen serving in far off places like Cyprus, and the men and women serving in the forces would return their messages. How could they do that, and play the music requested.

My first radio I built was a crystal set. A very simple device consisting of a coil of wire, a crystal usually iron pyrite, a pair of earphones, an earth connection or water pipe, a very long and high wire or aerial at least 150 feet long, and a cats whisker.

I would lay in bed until midnight, when the BBC would stop broadcasting for the day, enjoying the late night music. Surely if it is possible to receive radio signals, it is obvious one can transmit. But how?

Why was it that at certain times of the day it was possible to hear transmissions from one side of the world, and at another time nothing could be heard, but perhaps a signal from another country.

It would take me until 1979, when I decided to take the year long course and take my amateur radio exam, to learn the secrets of how radio receivers and transmitters worked, circuit design, how to build radios and transmitters, radio propagation, weather and atmosphere significance, capacitance, ohms law, radio frequencies and their use, the rules and laws of transmission.

It was whilst waiting for the result of my exam, that the British Government allowed the normal citizen to walk into any Post Office and purchase a CB license without taking the Ham Radio exam.

I got my call sign G8YJQ, and had many great years meeting people on the air, learning more, also giving my time to emergency services through RAYNET.

It was my time in Saudi Arabia where ham radio is banned, that my interest in ham radio would wane, only to return with less interest on my return to the UK, when I would buy a couple of radio/transmitters. Not having any facilities for a good aerials to get a good signal, and no person to share my interest, the radio/transmitters found themselves at the back of a draw, only to be found again when throwing out my “stuff”.

A quick charge of the batteries, and a re-read of the operating manuals, and I am back on air.

But so far in two days, I have heard no other transmission or contacts.

Are there Radio Hams out there?

ICOM IC-T7E                               YAESU FT-727R

MY TRANSCEIVERS

Categories
Thoughts

The throw-away society

I am really depressed, down, lost after a week of throwing “stuff” away. See article I am a hoarder.

I say “stuff” rather than “junk”, because the things I have disposed of, thrown out do or did have worth to me, memories, perhaps some use in the future, or some use to someone else, perhaps to show people what life was like some few years ago, what we had to suffer with.

But what are the use of my old degree assignments? Yes I was proud of them, neatly bound, lots of effort and hours invested in them, but taking a whole shelf up. Out.

Old manuals of programming languages I used in the early days of computing, NCR‘s NEAT 3, COBOL, “C” and “C++“, IQ Lisp the Artificial Intelligence Language of Texas Instruments, operating systems like DR DOS, MS DOS, UNIX and JCL, networking systems like NOVELL, ARC Lantastic, MS Workgroups. The list goes on and on.

Cables that would allow me to connect computers together in a network, to connect printers, power cables, the circuit boards I have, networking cards, sound cards, video cards, spare hard drives so small now in capacity 100 MB, 2.5 inch floppy disk drives, 5 inch floppy inch drives.

What about the computers I had. Four good computers from around 1998. Two good video displays, massive and heavy by todays flat screen LCD screens.

Four good printers, only needing toner or ink.

Software packages, some unopened, LANtastic network software, Windows operating systems, DOS, Windows, Laplink, ProCom communication software, Word processors WordPerfect, MS Works etc. All so out-of-date. Useless.

Do I put them in the waste bin? No we are not allowed to do that.

Do I take them to a recycling depot? Could do, so they would be shipped to China to be striped down.

Do I sell them in the local paper, at a car boot or eBay? Tried eBay, no takers. Car boot, none going on near me.

Give them away? Yes.

On my daily walk into Kingston upon Thames town center to get exercise, I pass a small computer shop come internet café, Activ Euro, Old London Road, which I know repairs computers, perhaps he could have and use them?

The owner, told me he would have a look at them, but all he would do would perhaps throw them away. He told me a company collects once a month the old computers and pays £1 per machine. In his shop window there are things or “stuff” that has been there a long time, so long the packaging is fading. US Robotics or 3COM Palm PDA, still new, but so out of date, (5 years), and no takers. CD drives, no-one wants them.

People go into his shop to have a printer repaired, and he tells them to buy a new one, as it will cost more just to remove the covers than it would for a new one.

I give him two car loads of “stuff”. Perhaps he can use some of it, a cable here, a board there.

That afternoon, passing his shop again, I notice my old printer, a QMS Color Laserjet 2, sitting next to his networked internet access computers. Good he has found a use for it.

Wikipedia defines The throw-away society as :- a human society strongly influenced by consumerism. The term describes a critical view of over-consumption and excessive production of short-lived or disposable items.

In my case it was not a case of over-consumption, or excessive production, or disposable items. I only purchased what was needed at the time. But, technology moves on, new ideas superseded the old, new products are cheaper to buy than to repair the old.
 
In the case of my QMS printer, the cost of the replacement toner cartridges was more than the cost of a new printer.

I do not want the latest gadget, (yes I do, but cannot afford it), but sometimes technology leaves the old obsolete like analog TV, now going to digital, the old TVs will not work.

Yes, and manufacturers build in to their equipment a time clock when components fail.

It is still so depressing to throw away such history, so many memories, so much knowledge that I spent so much blood sweat and tears learning, that will never be seen or used again.

Oh well, more space for my books on NLP, hypnosis and memory. But then I have so many books that I will never make use of again, QUARKXPRESS Handbook, The UNIX Programming Environment, Visual Basic, Business Law, Human Resource Management, on and on and on. Anyone wants them?

Oh Poo Poo, I’m so depressed.

Perhaps the owner of Activ Euro can make some use of my old computer “stuff”.

Categories
NLP

The last day of the NLP Master Practitioner, Verona

Last weekend (19th – 20th July 08) I started teaching the NLP Master Practitioner course in Verona Italy, organised by NLPItaly.

It was two great days, and today, Saturday (26th July 08), I return to end the course with the participants.

I certaonly like giving an NLP Master Practitioner course, as the participants already have an understanding of the subject of NLP, plus they want to learn at even a deeper level.

Participants on the NLP Master Practitioner, Verona 2008
Participants on the NLP Master Practitioner, Verona 2008

Categories
NLP Thoughts Travels

Metal boxes, The Earth, Mountains, My thoughts

It was an early start Saturday to catch a British Airways flight from London Gatwick to Verona in Italy to give an NLP Master Practitioner course.

I left the home at 4:30 am, and for once drove my car down, hoping I could keep my eyes open. Even at that early hour, the roads were busy.

What are these people doing up so early?

Have they just left the night clubs and going home to sleep?

Are they going to work?

Are they going on holiday?

Me, in the safety of my little metal box called a car, insulated from the outside world, only involved in my work, my requirements and needs, suddenly became aware of the bigger picture, “Phillip’s Sausage“.

Once on the aircraft, again a metal container, I was able to settle back, with my window seat, be given a snack of a ham and cheese roll, orange juice and tea, looking down at the world slowly passing below me.

From 35,000 feet, it is possible to see the cities, roads, lakes, even down to the traffic on the motorways scarring the surface of our little planet. Again I wondered what people were doing down there. Some also in their little steel boxes. Some working in the fields. Some on holiday. Some being born. Some dieing.

What is the name of that town? What is the name of that lake? What country are we flying over? Why are there no lines like on a map, defining that is France and that is Germany?

As we flew over the Alps, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the early morning sunlight highlighted the mountains covered in snow. Perhaps these are the natural borders we humans have placed upon ourselves. But which country is which, there are no visible signs.

Why did I leave my camera in my case in the locker above my head?

Which mountain was the Matterhorn, the Cervino in Italian, Mont Cervin or Le Cervin in French? It is the same mountain, but given a different label by us humans.

We must have flown over the Dolomites, and for the first time I notice the formation of the earth in this region, the mountains. Perhaps it was the shadows of the early morning sun. Why was not geography like this at school, being able to experience, to see first-hand what the teacher was talking about.

As I looked down there were ridges or folds stretching away, clear distinct lines, like waves on a lake.

To the north of the ripple peek, the slope was nearly perpendicular, or straight down, but the slope to the south was more gentle.

I could understand how the earth had been forced up at an angle say of 45 degrees, and part of it had slipped over the other, forming the ripple effect.

Why did I not have my camera at hand? Perhaps this weekend as I fly again to Verona to end the course, I may get another chance for a photograph. In the meantime, with a set of books I can show the effect I mean.

Wilbur Smith's books, demonstrating the layers of rock strata in the Alps and Dolomites.
The rock strata being forced over another


Now I must ready myself to start the NLP Master Practitioner and give the participants the same experience I had of the mountains, but for them the exercises I will give in the course.

Antonio, Mustapha, Fred.