Dave’s Archives

I was hearing vague snippets of the disaster that was the Virgin Blue computer system, but my JetStar flight had its own problems. Everyone was seated (that is, except for the restless and very, very sensitive toddler standing on the opposite window seat, who burst into tears whenever mum dared suggest he sit down and put his seat belt on), but there seemed to be a delay.

It was getting quite stuffy, actually. A couple of people took to fanning themselves with the A320-232 safety instruction cards. It emerged that there were "maintenance issues", which sounded a little dubious. Shortly thereafter, the captain (or someone) informed us that the problem was indeed related to the air-con. He could fix it in 2 seconds, but he would need to switch the plane off.

Had they, on the spur of the moment, installed a new air-conditioning software update? At least this was happening before takeoff, I thought to myself. (For instance, they didn't say this: "Sorry, ladies and gentlemen - we will shortly begin a rapid descent towards to ocean while we install this critical software patch and restart the aircraft. Not sure how long we'll be - let's just hope it works this time.")

So, for about a minute, the cabin lights were replaced by blue-tinted torch light, the engines died down and there was eery quiet (that is, except for the gentle snorting of the person next to me and the squeals from across the isle). It was also a reprieve from the terrible, cheesy music that had been playing over the speakers to pass the time; cheesy to an extent that can surely only be achieved with premeditated malice.

Then, with our air-con software apparently working as advertised, all hands reached for the vents above our seats and we were off.

I do respect fire drills. Honestly, I do. However, when the alarm started sounding at around 11:30 this morning I happened to be naked, wet and soapy, as a result (fortunately) of being in the shower. I was fairly certain it was a drill because I'd seen another drill earlier in the morning for the building next to us.

I actually managed to finish up and get dressed just as the fire warden began hammering on the door. I inquired what one is supposed to do in such situations. He dismissed me and said simply that he didn't care whether I was naked and wet. He just wanted me outside in the muster area with everyone else. And it's true - this individual (who happens to be one of our senior lecturers) really wouldn't care. However, I suspect I'm not be alone in feeling that if I'm going to be running outside dressed in nothing but a towel and shampoo suds, it had better damn well be a real emergency.

...behind that sofa.

Either that, or it's the evolutionary process at work in the Swan River.

The annual day of mystery and mild trepidation approaches, when things are not quite as they appear. A lot of effort seems to go into it among the technical community. I'll be scouring the contents of my RSS reader throughout the day looking for my fix. Or at least I would I thought it was wise to setup an RSS reader on my laptop at uni, which I do not. However, hopefully there will be a few goings-on to keep me amused. Hopefully I'll instigate some of them.

Another Freeway Bike Hike comes and goes. Team Exermacise was down to three people this year, due to a combination of injury, other commitments, and general slacking off.

It's a nice ride - the fastest 30km (or 10km, or 60km) you're likely to do on a bike, at least in Perth. However, I'm now sitting at home about to set off on an 18km ride to uni - 18km of at least 75km that I ride in the course of a normal week - and pondering what makes the freeway bike hike stand out*. Possibly it's just the socialising. The freeway actually makes it easy to socialise while riding - it's much wider and everyone's moving in the same direction. It's much easier to strike up a conversation when you're side-by-side and you don't have to worry about pedestrians, cars or oncoming bikes.

Everyone's favourite health insurer was in on the sponsorship gig, had plastered advertising all along the route. Also along the route could be seen tortured souls, presumably running on pure caffeine, whose official task seemed to consist entirely of clapping at the cyclists. There were a lot of cyclists. One person towards the end simply stood on the road with his arm pointed at the freeway off ramp leading to Joondalup - possibly qualifying as a form of torture.

However, upon passing beneath the hallowed inflatable finishing gate, we were blasted with festive music and numerous people distributing free orange Powerade**. It's got electrolytes! I stuck to my cache of water, grapes and garlic bread.

** This brought back vaguely nostalgic memories of the exit from the central train station in Naples some years ago, except instead of Powerade I was being offered mobile phones.

* Possibly I should also be getting to uni and doing some actual work rather than just blogging.

The bony part of my nose met with the fridge door in an uncomfortable deceleration this afternoon, leaving a nasty cut. This occurred less than a second - literally - after having explained to some friends that I no longer felt sore as a result of rock climbing. Lesson learnt.

I took a good opportunity today to feel smug and superior on my bike. My regular "scenic route" to uni takes me down a bike path right next to the Kwinana Freeway. With a slight headwind and managing 25-27km/h, I was overtaking the peak hour traffic for the whole 6-7km distance.

Normally I can only feel smug and superior for the first kilometre or so, until after a lane merge where the traffic usually picks up. Long may the congestion continue! Hahaaa! That's me laughing at the misfortune of others. Here, let me do it again: Hahaaa!

A somewhat agitated and embarrassed part of my brain is now telling me: "Voting! That means you, Dave, you prat."

On May 16 we will have the right obligation to vote for or against daylight savings in Western Australia. I see both side of the argument, but on balance I'm happy with it. It does remain slightly hotter later in the day, and of course it's darker in the early morning. However, I'm not up that early, and I'll cope with an extra degree C if it means I don't cycle home in the dark, and that we're not left three hours behind the rest of the country. Doubtless others will disagree, and an overall "yes" result is hardly in the bag.

The trial process has been a little cynical in its implementation. This will be the fourth referendum on the same issue, and one gets the distinct impression that the pro-daylight savings forces are grudgingly putting a democratic spin on what some may believe to the inevitable march of progress.

For my own part, I'll be happy if I make it to the polling booth, unlike the state election last year on September 6. I can tell you that date because it's written on a letter I received from the WAEC entitled "Apparent Failure to Vote Notice". I'm not in the least bit proud of this, especially since I was and still am a supporter of compulsory voting. However, it allows me to confirm that a penalty of $20 does indeed apply for not voting (not $50 or $120, as I've heard other people mention), unless you have a "valid and sufficient reason". I figured that "I forgot because my brain was full of software engineering research" was probably not on the list of acceptable excuses, and paid my debt to democracy via B-Pay. (I'd been finishing off a paper for submission to the 2009 International Conference on Software Engineering that day, which was unfortunately later rejected as most submissions to the ICSE are.)

I've set my phone's alarm to spring into action this time around, in case my brain doesn't.

For those interested, I've uploaded my entire photo collection from New Zealand. (Well, obviously not the entire collection - I had to remove those incriminating shots of Wilson Tuckey doing... well, I'm not quite sure what it is he was doing, but he was certainly hard at work.)

Unfortunately, I have limited web space, which means that (a) I've had to reduce the resolution to 1024 x 768 (or 768 x 1024), and (b) they may removed at some unspecified time in the future when I need to upload something else. But for now, I invite you to peruse my adventures in pictures. If for some reason you'd really like to acquire a higher quality version of some particular photo(s), let me know.

The drive to Christchurch was long, and took us through the middle of the South Island, away from the mountains of the west to the summery east. The wind whipped up an enormous swell on the light, milky-blue waters of Lake Pukaki. The colour comes from the tiny particles of rock (rock flour) suspended in the water. We ate something resembling a picnic lunch at Lake Tekapo (the bakery there sells excellent pies), a little way to the east.

I can't report anything much from my visit to Christchurch, because I only spent one night there. I wandered the streets around Cathedral Square the night I arrived, and also the next morning, but I didn't really see anything. I parted company with my new friends from the Kiwi bus, the night before at Queenstown, then en route to Christchurch, and finally as I left the hostel for the airport.

My final act in New Zealand was to spill a large cup of soft drink all over the floor and around the cash register at a dodgy fast food outlet inside the airport. I immediately regretted even thinking about eating there, and I enjoyed the pre-packaged in-flight meals considerably more.