Ediburgh, Scotland, August 2017

Every year in August, half the world descends on Edinburgh to have a giant party, as the city is home to not only one, but multiple parallel festivals. The one that is most accessible (because it largely takes place in the streets) is the Fringe, including chainsaw juggling and all. Check it out! 

Iceland, April 2017

Cambridge, UK, April 2017

It’s a reasonably sunny day. The museum town of Cambridge, which exhales the thirst for education and the quest for knowledge from every pore, is bustling with life. Well-dressed-and-groomed students mix with tourists of varied origins and families on a Sunday outing. Everyone has time, part of what makes for such a stark contrast with London 2 days earlier. 

I sit in front of a small café right opposite King’s College Chapel, enjoy the rays of sun and a cappuccino and wonder whether the elder gentleman at the next table might not be an incredibly famous professor, perhaps the man behind a major scientific break-through. I wouldn’t be surprised, after having learned that the pub where we went for a pint last night is the very same location where Watson and Crick celebrated the discovery of the DNA molecule, and that Stephen Hawking is still teaching right down the street at the Department of Theoretical Physics. 

It’s an impressive town, beautiful and slightly amusing, seemingly very much at ease living inside its own bubble while having the eyes of the scientific world on it at the same time. 

Venice, Italy, October 2015

Una notte a Venezia

Waking up in the dim light of the hotel room, with the sun being blocked by the heavy velvet curtains, the memories of last night come back. Are they memories, or was it a dream? Looking back, it feels unreal, like a Cinderella kind of story.

We found it amusing to dress up in evening gowns and high heels, and like teenagers on prom night, kept having our picture taken in the hotel lobby by the guys at the reception – who clearly found US amusing.

We took a water taxi down the Canale Grande, with a bright round moon reflecting on the water, and the illuminated palazzos passing by left and right. Who can resist the enchanting charms of Venice, this unique blend of culture, romance and decay. At night, a tad of magic gets thrown into the mix. Our destination was (as the taxi boat driver told us) nothing less illustrious than the city’s finest palace.

Well, when a superyacht shipyard hosts a gala dinner, they do it in style. I had to keep reminding myself just how I, representing a conservation organization, had ended up as a special guest in this circle, with the mayor of the city and who knows what other important people. It was one of these moments in life that you look at from the outside, even while you experience it, shaking your head with a slightly bemused, disbelieving smile.

Walking into the bluely lit dining hall, with real candles on the chandeliers, I am certain I forgot my countenance for a moment and just stood with my mouth open. The 9-course dinner, prepared by a Michelin star chef, was themed around “the sea”, and each of the minuscule dishes had a patron. I introduced “my” dish, a fish named “occiata” (eye), by saying that we all, as we use the ocean in whichever way, need to jointly keep an eye on the sea to protect it. There you go for the conservation message, delivered within 30 seconds, to not keep the esteemed guests away from their conversation for too long.

As if the string quartet hadn’t been enough, an opera singer entertained us during the second part of the dinner. 

I quickly gave up trying to figure out which of the wines served in the various crystal glasses in front of me (right next to the hand written name tag) was supposed to be consumed with which dish. I have an instinctive adversity against wasting food (and beverages), so as the waiters kept refilling my glasses, I kept trying to empty them. Which just served to make the evening appear all the more magical.

Even after midnight, the boat to bring us home hadn’t turned into a pumpkin. So reconsidering, I’m pretty sure all this really did happen. Fortunately. I get up, open the curtains, and look out onto the sun-lit piazza. 

 

Amsterdam, 19 July 2014

In one of life’s many ironic coincidental twists, I seem to be following the tragedy of Malaysian Airlines. I remember the uneasy shiver that overcame me when arriving in Bali a few months back, and reading my mom’s concerned email. I had been on a Malaysian Airlines flight via Kuala Lumpur, the very same day when MH 370 disappeared shortly after its departure from KL – without a trace, as we all found out over the coming weeks.

Today, I am travelling from Basel to Amsterdam, reading through 3 pages of newspaper articles on the passenger plane that was shot down over eastern Ukraine. The plane, again a Malaysian Airlines flight, took off from Schiphol less than 48 hours before my landing there. As I arrive, the airport is busy, burstling with people, I glance at watches, whiskey and whatnot in the duty free shopping area. Everything is business as usual. Of course – what else would you expect.

The newspaper also featured a paragraph on the future of the airline. A small photograph showed the MH director, who had offered to step down after the MH 370 disappearance, but then stayed on, because no one else wanted to deal with the messy situation. He, and his 19,000 employees, now get a 2^nd chance at losing their jobs, along with the lost reputation of their airline. Ironic. Almost cynical.