Türkçe versiyonu
In some countries a foreign traveler means money to the locals, and it leaves a sour taste in the travelers mouth.
Today I am leaving Turkey after a long training trip in Gaziantep and Istanbul, and I took a taxi from my hotel, The Seminal Hotel to Ataturk Airport, leaving plenty of time for the journey.
The taxi trip is usually (or was) 25 Turkish Lira, but I am sure the taxi driver must have seen money before his eyes, instead of me a human being.
We started off on the usual route I take on a regular basis to the airport, but then he took a detour, but it was too late for me to complain as I know there is no turning back, I could only keep calm and sit back to enjoy a longer journey.
I had been taken this way before so I knew that it would cost more than the usual coast road route. OK, don’t make waves Phillip.
As we progressed, I started to see new sites I had not seen before, yes he was taking me for a ride, and there was nothing I could do. Keep calm Phillip.
On arrival to the airport, the meter read 60 Turkish Lira.
I should have demanded the coast road route before getting in the taxi.
Oh his number is 34 TCK 60 if anyone is interested, like the Turkish Tourist Authority. Are you really trying to cleanup the role of your taxi drivers?
Next time I will take the bus Havas (Havaş pronouced havash) which charges 15 Turkish Lira from Ataturk Airport straight to Taxim Square in the center of Istanbul, and visa versa.
Nice one Mr Taxi Driver.
Category: Travels
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I hate Computers
At one time I was I suppose a computer expert.
For over thirty years I worked in the computer industry, being employed by computer manufacturers, NCR, Sperry Univac, Texas Instruments and end users, to program computers to do whatever the customers wanted.
As I aged, got older, with my hair going gray, the demands for my expertise and knowledge began to diminish and anyway I had found a new career in being a trainer in NLP, Hypnosis, PhotoReading, Mind Maps and Memory. I left the computer field. It is a young persons profession.
So I know a little about computers, but usually keep my mouth shut, as things go wrong, or people want advice.
I need computers in my work, for communication with Skype and Gizmo, entertainment with Slingbox enabling me to watch British TV no matter where I am in the world, to write my blog, letters and to play music with iTunes in my courses.
I get lots of emails per day, many are spams, unwanted mails which I delete easily and quickly. I am aware of the dangers of virus’s, Trojan’s, people trying to gain access to my computer and data, so I use software to protect myself.
For many years I have used Norton or Symantec software, paying my annual fees, and upgrading as required.
The latest release I upgraded to is Norton 360, as it was the natural upgrade path offered by Symantec. Oh how I regret it.
Time is important to me as I travel, prepare to start another day in a strange country for training, I have to catch planes, catch trains, keep appointments. I need to download my messages, process them, reply where required, then get on with my day.
It can take me more than half an hour to start my computer with the protection I need against people attacking my computer, half an hour of powering up and down, rebooting the computer, waiting for Norton 360 to load in the correct sequence, for if it loads last in the boot sequence, then Auto Protection facility is off, and nothing I do will switch it on. If Norton 360 loads first in the IPL sequence (Initial Program Load), the I get protection.
I have spoken to Symantec or Norton support, I think based in India, and got no where. Do they understand me?
I paid good money for the software, I want it to work. I cannot sit in an airport lounge reloading my computer, I need to work and catch my plane.
If you have the answer without having to buy more software, please let me know.
I hate computers.
See also blog My Computer Oh Poo Poo, and My Annus Mirabilis.
Today I visited an exhibition in Istanbul on Albert Einstein.
Albert Einstein
It is being held until the 2nd March 2008, in the Doğuş Power Center in Maslak, Istanbul, this is quite a large exhibition of the work of Einstein, which left me a little confused about his work on relativity, which I thought I had cracked.
I know light travels at 300,000 kms, but the way it was displayed and described, got me thinking about my understanding again on the law of relativity, and asking the guide got him confused too.
I toured the exhibition twice as on the first round I understood little of his great thinking. Well it was written in Turkish and I read nor speak any Turkish, I did have an English recording of the tour, but really it did not give very much information.
At each point of interest was a guide, speaking in Turkish, and they attracted quite large groups to their talks, the children in the groups, seemed especially to be transfixed in what they were saying. That left me feeling quite inadequate at my inability to understand E=mc² and the law of relativity.
As I toured the exhibition I came across a saying from Albert Einstein which says:-
Imagination is more important than knowledge.
It was stated that Einstein got the answer to a problem from far fewer “hints” or pieces of information that other scientists, he had the ability to quickly gather results with very little knowledge or information.
It was also said that he loved fun, so the picture below is to honour Albert Einstein and his contribution to mankind as a great thinker, scientist, peacemaker and fun loving man.
Fun Loving Albert Einstein
Great exhibition if you are in Istanbul.
Yesterday I was lost, as I was half in and half out of sleep, I did not know where I was. Click here to read.
This morning I know where I am. The Seminal Hotel in Istanbul.
Seminal Hotel, Istanbul, Turkey
I have stayed in the hotel many times over the years I have been visiting and training in Turkey, but it is a tourist hotel, with guests only staying for a few days, then they are off to visit another “important” site. The hotel seems to cater for mainly Arabic nationals, who always seem to have to shout at the top of their voices to have a conversation. They seem to have large families, taking many rooms, and they race from room to room, or shout from one room to another.
The hotel is comfortable, in need of a refurbishment, perhaps new carpets and a coat of paint, and like many hotels in Istanbul, sometimes have a bad smell. But the staff are friendly now they know me, and it is home for a few days.
My time to relax is in the breakfast room, where I can observe other guests starting their day. I feel at ease, as I watch, and try and workout the fellow guests nationality, are they Arab, Turkish, German, Russian?
As I sit drinking my strong Turkish tea English style, with a drop of milk, I watch the staff, as they busy themselves replenishing the food laid out in a buffet style, or cleaning the tables, wondering what they are thinking about the guests they are looking after.
One member of staff aways has a welcome, it is good to see his smiling face. I know where I am when I see Cafer, I am in the Seminal Hotel.
Cafer, staff member, Seminal Hotel
This morning I was awoken early at 6am by a distant alarm call, too early for me on my rest day, my relaxation, I needed sleep.
As I held back my desire to complain at such an early awakening, the need for sleep washed over me like a wave, my head swirled with tiredness.
I do not like to lie in bed, usually I like to be up and about, I am not a person who says “five minutes more“, despite the description of my getting up in the morning strategy in my NLP courses. Some people who when it is time to get up like the “five minutes more” time in bed, and should there be any interruption to this extra 5 mins time, they will very forcefully demand quiet.
I lay there for a while though, trying my best to slip back into the deep slumber, even putting my head under the duvet, but I had to get up, as nature called, and the person or persons who needed to be up and about so early, readied themselves noisily. No consideration for others.
Eventually it all went quiet, and my head and body demanded more sleep, so I slipped back into my comfortable bed, beneath a warm cuddly duvet.
It seems as I travel the world delivering my courses in such places as China, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, India, Turkey, Italy etc, I never sleep in the same bed for more than ten days.
Each time I move to a new hotel or room, I have to get used to the bed and room.
My bed
Some beds are small singles, others are twins, yet others are gigantic beds, enough to hold a party. Some of the beds are so hard that it is like sleeping on a concrete floor, whereas some are so soft it is like floating in a warm tropical sea, others are of odd shapes, one was even like a banana giving me a very bad nights sleep.
I have to get accustomed to the layout of the rooms. Where are the light switches, so I can see in the dark. Which door is to the bathroom/toilet, I would not like to get it mixed up with a wardrobe in the middle of the night.
As I slipped under the duvet, pulling it up under my chin, that wave of sleep took over, my eyes closed, and as I drifted off, I started to dream, of some exotic harem (pronouned hareem), well I am in Turkey.
Turkish Harem
In this half dream half awake state, I suddenly started to panic.
Where was I?
Was I in a harem?
Which country am I in?
In the semi darkened room, I could not recognise anything, nothing made sense, was I in the UK, where was I?
My brain searched for answers, but found none, and I panicked more. I was lost.
Where was the belly dancer?
In my slowly emerging waking state, I searched for where the door as I lay there, where was the wardrobe?
What room was I in? I recognised nothing.
Slowly, slowly, I started to become aware of my surroundings, and I found myself once again.
By now I was fully awake, and there was no way I would get back to sleep.
It is strange how the brain can only take in a small proportion of information it is presented with (7 + /-2), and with that amount of information, (surface structure), comes up with stories of it’s own, it hallucinates to make sense of it, (deletes, distorts and generalises). click to read articles
This was not a good experience, but I look forward to slipping under the duvet tonight, I might find my belly dancer again.
Belly Dancer in my dreams
Who knows?
Gong Xi Fa Cai
Gong Xi Fa Cai, which is Chinese for Happy New Lunar Year, a very important time in the Chinese year. This year 2008 is the Year of the Rat.
The Chinese New Year celebration lasts for 15 days, and can fall anytime between 21st January and 20th February depending upon the full moon.
The first day is the Chinese New Year, and is called the Spring Festival. Often little red packets (called an-pao in Malaysia) are given out to the unmarried members of the family by the married members, and contain money. Often houses are visited by the Lion Dancers bringing good luck.
The colour red is important to the Chinese at this time, with houses, buildings decorated in red, with Chinese auspicious phrases on banners and red lanterns, and people will often dress-up in red clothes.
Various special days are celebrated during this period, where the God of Fortune is greeted on the fifth day and fire crackers are let off, the loudest bringing the greatest fortune, but many fire crackers are let off on the first day.
The fifteenth day is the Lantern Festival (which is again celebrated in September), and where a special cake or dumpling made out of glutinous rice and is very sticky called the neen koh, is eaten, symbolising that the lips will be sealed together, thus not allowing the wrong doings of the family to be reported to the departed or spirits.
Gong Xi Fa Cai
After a long run of courses, I find myself on a rest period. Nothing to do, but too much to do, and no time to do it in.
I know that there are lots of work I must catch-up on, as I have been away from the UK, plus my computer and the internet for too long.
My brain is still in training mode, and today I am finding it difficult to switch to relaxing or office work mode.
Perhaps writing a few journals can help me, considering the work I have undertaken and the prospects of the work coming up. I have so much in my head.
Cup of tea first I think, with a drop of milk. Sorry folks I am English. Tea with milk.
Today I had a few minutes to wait and I was looking down onto a busy intersection, traffic coming from all directions, merging together around a traffic island. Buses, cars, lorries, motorbikes plus people trying to get to their destinations, homes, workplaces, shops.
Among the people walking down the footpaths I noticed a small white dog, doing its’ own thing, sniffing here sniffing there, leaving its’ mark, criss-crossing from tree to tree, lamp post to lamp post, oblivious to all that was going on around it, as the people were to it.
Then the dog had to get across that busy intersection. There were no traffic lights, no police controlling the flow of traffic, the vehicles just pushing their way across from one side to the other. Walkers dashed between the cars.
How was this dog, so small going to cross?
It went to the curb edge, and waited. It knew that this was dangerous for it as cars sped past.
It look up and around it, and it waited until there was a crowd of people waiting to cross, and it blended in with the crowd, in the middle, and as the crowd forced their way across that intersection, it stayed in the center, protected on all sides.
Once across the other side the dog became the individual it was, doing its’ own thing, safely.
Although not a good picture, the dog ( by the tree) can be seen making what would be his daily journey across the busy intersection.
When I was a small boy, living with my mother and father in the English town of Chasetown, we would sit at the dining table for the long gone traditional family meal.
The best part of the meal for me would be the pudding, sweat or dessert, and I would ask my mother, “what’s for pudding Mom?” and she would inevitably reply “Wait and See”.
All sorts of images, pictures of exotic puddings would be conjured up in my mind, I had no idea what it could be. It was not apple pie, Bakewell tart, rhubarb and custard, I knew those. But “Wait and See”?
Today, is a day of rest. I have done my Income, Self Assessment, Tax, reasonably caught-up with my emails and post, I have nothing to do. I had a quiet breakfast, looking out into a clear blue sky, which at this time of the year means a cold crispy day.
What is going to happen today, what am I going to do?
My mind went back, reliving those days sitting at the dinning table, eagerly awaiting the pudding. Was it going to be a pudding that the lady two doors away, Mrs Grice, was promising to cook for my friend Brian Bradbury and myself, Spotted Dick? I had visions in my head of a pudding shaped like a Dalmatian dog, white with black spots on it, and what it tasted of I had no idea.
Again and again I would ask, “what’s for pudding” and I would get the same reply “Wait and See”, or another saying, “All good things come to those that wait“.
Strange how we put our vivid hallucinations onto what people tell us. My mothers “Wait and See” created a pudding in my mind, so I conjured up a make believe exotic pudding to fit the context of the conversation, as Mrs Grice’s Spotted Dick painted another picture.
When the puddings came, they were nothing more than I had eaten before, the apple tarts, etc. What I had created in my head for “Wait and See”, was not a new pudding, but just wait a while, you will see what will be served to you. The Spotted Dick was nothing more than a traditional British suet pastry, rolled into a sausage shape, representing a dog, with dried fruits, mostly being currents, making the spots, served with custard.
Spotted Dick pudding
Today I will “Wait and See” what happens, because as I have waited over the years, I have had the exotic puddings, the baklava from the Turkish cuisine, the Ice Kacang from South East Asia and China.
The good things will come if you can just wait.
RETURN to NEW BASIL DINER article click here
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Under Stress
Over the last few days I have been rather stressed. Why? too much to do and it is taxing.
There are a number of people who want my time, now, not tomorrow, but now.
Then there is the British Inland Revenue, the Tax people who require that non PAYE (Pay As You Earn) tax payers have to submit their self assessment tax returns by the 31st January, else face a fine of £100 and interest to pay on any unpaid tax.
I usually leave my return, working out my income and expenditure, calculating profit and loss, until the very last day, and at 2300 hours, submit by the web my return.
This I needed to complete my self assessment forms early, I did not want to leave it to the last moment. I did it today. But I still went under stress as if it was the last day.
I am curious about how many other British self assessment workers go under the same stress. Is it worth it?
If I had a say in the running of a country’s income strategy, I think I would abolish income tax, and put the tax on purchases. Instead of the British VAT (Value Added Tax) of 17% on purchases, put it up to 25%. Then those that spend pay the tax, encouraging people to save.
The best advantage would be I would not have to fill in the tax return and get under stress this time every year.