I have handed in my final essay of my degree. It was about ‘reflexivity in visual media’ and was completed according to the schedule above. The time line starts at midnight, and ends at the deadline of noon. Some notable points are the finish with an easy 20 minutes to spare for printing and handing in. This turned into a slight panic when I forgot to print the references page, and then the university computers wouldn’t read my USB stick to print it again. But the paper copy was accepted at 11:57 - three minutes clear. Easy does it.
I wasn’t hardcore enough to manage an all-nighter on it, and as such it never quite got to the word limit of 2500, stopping dead on 2000. The large flat line at 3-7am was when I was asleep due to feeling like a rather un-intellectual lumpen mass. Then there was a smaller flat-line at 10am when I walked up the hill from my house to campus so that I could finish it and print it without having to run up the hill.
What mark it gets, I will have to wait and see. But I can tell you now that it included the phrase: “so perhaps it could be turtles going out in every direction.”, a reference to the wonderfully obtuse Slavoj Žižek and the quote “My Dad went to New York and all I got was this lousy T-shirt”.
Just three exams (sadly all mundanely computer science ones) and my degree will be complete!
On the return train journey I saw a nun. She was wearing a pale grey habit with a dark red girdle. And she was knitting while waiting for the train.
We got on the same train, and she smiled at me as I stood with my unicycle.
Then we changed in Shrewsbury and I saw her again. She smiled at me again.
How nice.
Today I went on a train journey. I think I stayed within the rules too, but I didn’t half feel guilty and paranoid for much of it!
First, some highlights:
- Discovering that I can run from the platform (oh yes, there is only one) of Aberystwyth station to my house and back again in under 4 1/2 minutes. This was needed due to forgetting my cycle helmet and gloves and being at the platform nine minutes before departure. Phew.
- Seeing the building work on Dyfi Junction station. The line closures recently have been to raise the tracks by up to a metre to reduce flooding disruption in future. I’m really quite amazed at how they have managed to get it done with so little ‘down-time’ on the line. Good on Arriva Trains Wales.
- Putting my unicycle on and off five different trains without a slightest bit of agro from train staff about cycle reservations (and feeling how light it now is, following my weight-reduction measures of recent times knocking over a kilogram off it). In fact there were some new cycle-loading signs which are helpful once you know that they mean that is where the cycle section of the long trains will be found. Nice.
- Getting lenient treatment from the conductor lady on the cute little train from Bristol Temple Meads to Nailsea and Backwell - selling me a ticket on the train without a technically justified penalty fare.
Now, the bit which made me feel guilty and paranoid…
I’m pretty good at going on trains these days. I can do it. I can go all by myself and book tickets, arrive in time (sometimes), find platforms, load cycles… the works. But apparently I’m not so great at getting off at the right place.
I never meant to go to Swindon. Swindon is a lot further than I should have gone: from Newport to Bristol. But I don’t remember anything in between. Maybe flicking through the Metro free paper induces a trance-like state of amnesia.
So I had to turn tail and get the next train back to Bristol. Which made me feel naughty (despite it being an honest mistake which can reasonably be an excuse for the ‘return’ journey), not just for going in the opposite direction from my valid ticket, but for wanting to go to Bristol when my ticket was for Bath. It was a cunning manoeuvre which would have worked a treat coming in the right direction - just hop off the Newport train at Bristol… and continue my ticket’s nominated journey to Bath later in the day, after visiting Martin somewhere near Bristol. Easy. But coming at Bristol from Swindon would have taken some explaining, had I been challenged on what on earth I thought I was doing with the ticket I had.
Luckily I wasn’t inspected at any of the more suspect stages, and all was well. I think I played by the rules anyway… it just felt a bit scary.
Moral of the story: um, trains are nice, timely, clean, easy and cheap. Just pay attention better than me.
It is very nice outside. Finally it is warm and sunny and well worth wearing shorts and sandals. Or a skirt if you are inclined. The bluebells are out in style in the woods by PJM.
At this point in the year, doing anything indoors seems quite inferior to anything else outside. Time to go and do some ’study’ in the sun…
Just the place name is enough to justify visiting it. Eisteddfa Gurig is 17 miles from Aberystwyth on the A44, and is about 420 metres above sea level. Just about high enough to still have the random snow of Sunday morning unmelted by 3pm. I made a quick snowball (not quite as fun when there’s no-one to throw them at), and headed back.
But turn left towards Devil’s Bridge from the A44 and you quickly end up in the wild, hilly and bogglingly beautiful countryside. I’ve unicycled thousands of miles around in Mid-Wales and never been this way… why?! Once I got to Devil’s Bridge there was a hairpin bend left and a small road going steadily uphill. As the previous experiment worked out so well, I tried this new road too. It was a pretty enjoyable hill, and not quite too steep to be painful even with my short 102mm cranks (they’re best for going fast on flats or gentle hills, but I’m determined to make my legs accept them as a ‘go anywhere’ gear size).
At the top of this climb the rather modest reward is The Arch. A very Welsh monument - it seems to be a slate, erm, arch. Like the end of a barn which someone gave up on building when they realised that it is up a hill miles from anywhere. But now it has picnic benches and public toilets, appropriate to its fame.
This is the domain of the sheep. There are lots of little ones frolicking around, which is always nice. A farmer on a quadbike passed me with one of these lambs held under his arm. Quite touching, assuming that it really was a farmer… and not a (fairly unambitious) sheep-rustler.
Mostly downhill from here though. The weather also went downhill though. The snow which I had gone to find on a sunny, fine afternoon started driving into my ears and eyes. It is limited how much fun one can have when one can barely see the road and one’s face is numb. But it’s all good wholesome fresh air.
The sun did come out intermittently though, and I got back, legs a bit like jelly, and in time to not miss the whole evening service at church. 46 miles, 4 hours, 800M climbing. Nice afternoon.
I leave you with this little riddle near Pontrhydygroes. Eggs. Or No Eggs?
Thought for the day:
Even in a dark tunnel of fear, doubt and self-loathing; where the walls are damp and the shifting ground is uneven and hard; when the light at the end seems to be only a reflection in the darkened windows of your soul and the scratching noises all around make your skin crawl… it may still be that shouting “ping” can make quite a funny echo.
And here was Labour, his own bond-slave; Hope,
That never set the pains against the prize;
Idleness halting with his weary clog,
And poor misguided Shame, and witless Fear,
And simple Pleasure foraging for Death;
Honour misplaced, and Dignity astray;
Feuds, factions, flatteries, enmity, and guile,
Murmuring submission, and bald government,
(The idol weak as the idolater),
And Decency and Custom starving Truth,
And blind Authority beating with his staff
The child that might have led him; Emptiness
Followed as of good omen, and meek Worth
Left to herself unheard of and unknown.
The Prelude, Book Third: 630 - 643
I’m back in Aberystwyth, the sun is shining and I’m feeling pretentiously literate. I’ve had an old copy of some William W. in my bathroom for years to dip into while using the facilities (in a manner of speaking) - but this is the first bit that made me want to quote him. Nice. I can’t claim very much more literacy though.
The conspiring factors of having stupid amounts to do on final-year university work and my inability to make myself do it when I should are making me think more than usual about The Big One (my emphasis). How about this for a 20 000 mile jaunt: through Europe, Asia, Australasia, South America, Africa and Europe again to finish.
Popping in on Timbuktu along the way.
On a unicycle. Carrying all I need to survive.
All I need now is a good, wholesome, moral/ethical reason why taking over a year on an extended holiday jolly is somehow a self-sacrifice and does more good to the lives of others than not doing it. That and money, time and supportive people. Oh well. I’ll write a book about it, with pretty pictures - how’s that?
P.S. True connoisseurs of April Fool’s Day will know that pranks should not be made after noon. So this isn’t one. As on the previous 23 times in my life I didn’t manage to think of anything cunning to do today.
Quite possibly the most worthwhile 37 minutes of YouTube I’ve seen.
Watch: Barak Obama’s speech ‘A More Perfect Union’.
If someone this intelligent and balanced, and - it seems to me - downright good, can become the President of America then something amazing will have happened.
I don’t have a vote there, but I can still hope…
Disclaimer: Yes, it’s a home-made YouTube ‘embedded link’ screenshot; I still haven’t fixed the bug with this blog template which brakes YouTube videos. Terrible inconsistency, bad usability yesyes… all those things.
I’ve been away from Aberystwyth for a week. With about 50 other student type people I went to spend time with a church in Hyson Green, Nottingham. There is a small (about 20 people I think) pentecostal (amen, yeah! testify…) church there who are passionate, passionate people. They are commited to their community and to building the Kingdom of God there. Us white (yes, every single one of us), privilaged (university students) people got to let some of that rub off on us. We did some stuff they wanted doing too.
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