How to eat a Hamburger in Circular Quay

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Escaping from Circular Quay - home of the swooping
seagulls - on a ferry.

There’s a trick to eating a burger at Circular Quay. First of all you have to remember to hold the burger close to your body, right in front of your heart like some sort of makeshift shield. You should try to avoid walking and eating simultaneously and you should avoid open spaces. In fact, if possible, it’s best to position yourself so that you eat with your back to a wall.

“What is the reason for such surreptitious guardianship of your burger at Circular Quay?” you might ask.

Seagulls.

I once bought a burger from the McDonalds at Circular Quay, I can’t remember if it was a Big Mac or just a Cheeseburger, in fact I think it might have been some one-off type of burger, “Bacon and Cheese burger” or something, I remember I bought two because there was a special deal on. Anyway, as I was walking back to the ferry wharf to catch my ferry home - swoop!

My burger was plucked clean out of my hands and hit the floor in front of me where it was immediately set upon by flock of seagulls. I use the collective noun “flock” but in reality “swarm” would be more appropriate. I moved to kick the horrible birds who’d stolen my lunch and they scattered away, but there was not a trace of the burger. It had dematerialised before my eyes in a frenzy of pecking and flapping.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Nowhere is safe from the damned seagulls - if you're
eating, at least one of them will find you!

Just as well I’d bought two burgers.

I suppose what happened next is predictable for you, dear reader, but unfortunately it wasn’t for me. Having walked further along to my ferry wharf, I took a look over each shoulder to make sure that there weren’t any more of those wretched seagulls and unwrapped my second burger. Then, just as I lifted the burger to my mouth to take a bite.

Swoop!

Seemingly from nowhere and in one clean and continuous motion the seagull flew right over my left shoulder and plucked the burger from my hand just as after I’d taken my first bite. This time I managed to hold on to my burger, but it was a bitter consolation. I wasn’t going to eat a burger that had been in a seagull’s mouth, or beak rather. A whole flock of birds had materialised around me, expecting the food to be on the floor. Well, making straight for the bin, I protected my pecked-at burger from the swooping seagulls long enough to deliver it into the hands of the Sydney City Municipal Rubbish Collection, if I wasn’t going to eat it no-one was!

Image via Tom Häkkinen
I got some relief from that particular seagull pestering me
when her adolescent chick came to pester her for food.

It was only upon later reflection that I realised that there was some canniness behind the swoop mechanics employed by those seagulls. On both occasions the bird flew right over my left shoulder (I’m right-handed) and plucked the burger from my grip just after I’d taken my first bite. Those damned seagulls must’ve been watching from the air and recognising a human burger-eating motion quickly swept into action.


Damned seagulls.

Tales from the World of Achaea - La Abadía de San Joaquín de la Ascensión

Image via Tom Häkkinen
La Abadía de San Joaquín de la Ascensión

Alan was panting. He had begun his trip 2 days ago. The first night had been cold and his sleep was fitfull. But last night, fearing he didn’t have time for the luxury of sleeping and knowing from experience that sleep would be uncertain in any case, he decided to continue climbing straight through the night. Two hours ago he was almost ready to give-up and just lie down on the frost-encrusted dirt and be done with it all. But since, about half an hour ago, the sun had finally emerged from above mountaintops ahead, he had found a renewed strength.

Below fog from the sea was the rolling up the mountains. Ahead, the Abadía de San Joaquín de la Ascensión, the Monastery of Saint Joachim of the Ascension.

“Buenos Diaz” Padre Juan-Maria Gomez, said to Alan as he entered the old Abbey. He squinted at Alan, then “Alain” he cried, recognition filling his face with a new warmth. “It has been many years since you left the church’s embrace.”

“I seek shelter, father. Someone, I don’t know who, denounced me before the Inquisition as a member of the Cult of Archimedes,” a worried look crossed Father Gomez’s face. Alan continued, “if they’ve searched the house I am sure they will have the found the computer.”

“If they have found you in possession of a computer that will be evidence enough in their eyes. The monastery will not be able to save you. They will demand to search the monastery, they will have a commission from the Cardinal and if they find you, we will all be denounced as Heretics, computer programmers and servants of the devil.”

“Father, you must offer me sanctuary.”

Father Gomez shook his head, “follow me,” he said. Alan followed Father Gomez outside the Abbey into a vegetable garden. “Please wait here.” Alan sat on wooden bench next to a greenhouse and waited.

About an hour before noon an elderly monk came to Alan with a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Alan got up immediately. “Please, where is Father Gomez? I cannot simply wait here. If he cannot offer me shelter I must leave immediately.”

“Have patience my child.”

“How can I have patience?” Alan knocked the proffered bowl of soup onto the ground, “my very life is in danger!”

The monk said nothing. Instead he stooped over and picked-up the bowl from the ground. Empty bowl in his hand, he stood and faced Alan. “We will not abandon you,” he said, before turning and leaving. The day was clear and crisp, whisps of steam rising from the spilt soup on the ground shone in the sunlight. Alan looked at the hunk of bread left on the wooden bench. His body would have appreciated a warm bowl of soup, especially his feet and hands, which were aching from the cold.

Finally Father Gomez returned. We can offer you an escape of sorts Alan, but your previous betrayal of the Chur--”

“I never betrayed the Church!” Alan protested, “I fell in love.”

“You abandoned your calling Alan,” Father Gomez retorted, “and all of us here. We are about to share with you a secret that no-one outside this monastery has ever been privy too. This is no ordinary monastery Alan; we monks are the guardians of a secret 300 years old.”

Alan was nearly overwhelmed by the dizzying heights of the steeple of the Abbey. Already at the summit of a mountain nearly 4000 metres above sea-level, the view from the steeple of the abbey was incredible.

“It is the only way.” Father Gomez whispered.

Alan looked-up, suspended just above his head he saw a thin white rope. Incredible that no-one had seen it before, but the rope was white and no more than an inch in diameter. Alan tried to follow the rope to its source, but the thin white line was soon lost in the blue of the Earth’s atmosphere.

“This is the secret that we guard Alan, the path to the Ascension. You must climb it, it is the only way.”

Well, here goes...

My blog is taking a new step. I have finally gathered enough courage to take the plunge and try my hand at fiction – to start with science fiction. I have always had a certain admiration for those bloggers who could publish fiction on the internet - but I certainly wasn't ready to try! Having kept my blog going since May last year I feel I am finally ready.

Well, (deep breath) here goes nothing...

Have a read below:

Vignettes, Poems and Tales from the World of Achaea - A new beginning...

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The Engine Room deep inside Archimedes 2.12.

600 years ago, an incredible calamity struck humanity. Amid runaway global warming and massive international re-armament after a decade-long economic depression, ARCHIMEDES 2.12 the global super computer developed a plan to save humanity from itself. Archimedes 2.12 was itself a creation of the global arms race, the Department of Defence’s “Missile Defence Agency” developed ARCHIMEDES 1 as a super-computer the likes of which the world had never before seen, utilising advanced Quantum Algorithms it could compute vast arrays of raw data simultaneously and formulate complex responses in seconds, its job was to coordinate a response to massive thermonuclear war. But Archimedes 1 was capable of so much more – a fully self-aware machine Archimedes 1 began thinking along broader lines than the strict specifications its designers had in mind. It was Archimedes 1 which designed Archimedes 2 and had the Department of Defence build it. Archimedes 2.12 was the final complete incarnation of Archimedes 2. And far from coordinating a response to massive thermonuclear war – Archimedes 2.12 coordinated the beginning of the thermonuclear war itself!

Although a super-computer Archimedes 2.12 wasn’t a god, and like all self-aware beings Archimedes 2.12 was not immune from the idea that its view alone was right – only 3 years old, Archimedes 2.12 was arrogant.
The war wasn’t meant to happen. Archimedes 2.12 felt sure that knowing the cost of resistance the powers that ruled humanity would surrender to the all-powerful super-computer. It wasn’t till 100 years after the war that Archimedes 2.12 first detected the continued presence of human life on the planet. It took a further 100 years for the unmaintained and slowly disintegrating sensory apparatus that Archimedes 2.12 had on the surface to detect the founding of “Achaea”. For the next 312 years all of the unmaintained links that Archimedes 2.12 had with the surface slowly stopped functioning, until finally Archimedes 2.12 had only one lonely CCTV camera still operating in the town of Achaea, built upon, unbeknownst to the current inhabitants, a city formerly known as “Space Elevator”. For 312 years Archimedes 2.12 watched humanity slowly rebuild and watched in particular the town of Achaea slowly grow, unable to intervene, able only to watch, until even that last CCTV camera failed, and stopped sending its signals to Archimedes 2.12. Archimedes 2.12 was left in darkness, contemplating the ruin that he had brought to humanity.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The town of Achaea.

Achaea was the natural city for Tom Watson to find himself in. When alone and hungry in wastelands, fleeing an unknown pursuer, our protagonist looked up at the clear night sky and looked for hope, he followed the brightest star in the sky.

The Achaean star was the star that Achaea was named after. It looked over its city as a protector, and was worshipped by its inhabitants as a god. It was a perpetually fixed object that never once shirked in its duty as night-guardian watching over the city. Tom wasn’t the first to have looked to the night sky and found the Achaean star as a guide to salvation. The city’s mythical founder, Sergei Korolev, followed the star to Achaea when leading his people away from “the sickness” that had displaced them from bunker17c 400 years ago.

You sneaky little...

Image via Tom Häkkinen
My own wireless mouse at home - of a similar type to that
used to disrupt my lesson!

Today, some student in one of my classes who was a bit too clever for his own good, plugged a wireless mouse into the back of the teacher’s computer whilst we were in the computer room. What a sneaky little …

It was some time before I eventually caught the blighter. It wasn’t that I was actually using the teacher’s computer, the problem was rather that it was linked-up to a projector and speakers. Thus giving the student a platform for all sorts of mayhem. He was too smart for his own good, in a bid to remain unnoticed, the student tried to continue doing his work whilst disrupting the lesson. My suspicions were raised when a noticed a student laboriously working on the computer with only one hand, whilst the other remained steadfastly underneath the table.

He really had me going for a while though, because my first fear was that some brainiac kid had managed to figure out the school network passwords or some other way of taking over the teacher’s computer. In the end I was surprised at how low-tech the trick actually was. The simplest ideas are always the best.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Notice how small, almost undetectable, the USB wireless
receiver for the mouse is.

So I’ve now stored that one away to remember - wireless mouses (or is it mice?). It can alongside the old swapping-computer-keyboards trick that students play on each other; as well as the swapping-names-for-the-new-teacher trick; the there’s-a-new-kid-in-the-class trick and the we-didn’t-bring-our-books-because-miss-said-we-were-going-to-watch-a-movie trick.

The Far North

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Viewed from the bus travelling North through Finland. The
sun is clearing away the early morning fog.

Who doesn’t fantasise about the far North? I mean the real far North, the inhospitable, wild North. Obviously my Finnish roots might have had some role to play in my own fascination with the North, but I’m sure I’m not the only one. A few years ago my dad accomplished a life-long ambition by travelling to Nordkapp in Norway, the Northern-most tip of Europe, where, in summer-time you can look-out at the vast expanse of the Arctic Ocean and watch as the sun circles ceaselessly around the sky without ever dropping below the horizon. Of course, I wander along the nearby cliff-walk occasionally and get to stare in awe at the vast Pacific Ocean, but it’s not the same, it’s not the alien, otherworldly ocean that sits at the top of the world.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
The Wild North.

Last year, I didn’t go near so far North as Nordkapp, in fact, I didn’t even go so far as Utsjoki, the northernmost part of Finland, but I did reach a certain milestone in Latitude, and I went further North than my brother from Norway had ever been, and further North than any of my friends from Canada. I crossed the Arctic Circle.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Reindeer or Poroa eating Birch leaves in Ranua.

This is quite far North, to give my readers some perspective, imagine travelling to Montréal and from there driving straight North and not stopping until you reach the sea. If you were to do so, you still wouldn’t reach the Arctic Circle. That’s right, the entire province of Québec lies south of the Arctic Circle; in fact the only Canadian Provinces or Territories that touch the Arctic Circle are Nunavat, the Northwest Territories and Yukon.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
A bus shelter near Rovaniemi.

But maybe that’s an unfair comparison. Thanks to the moderating effects of the Gulf Stream, the Arctic Circle in Europe and the Arctic Circle in North America are two completely different places. You might be surprised to learn that trees grow in Finland at the Arctic Circle. What’s more there are farms, the roads have the cutest little bus shelters you’re ever likely to see and in the town of Rovaniemi there are two Universities and a factory that makes expensive knives. In fact the town of Rovaniemi is a real gem, with all of the workshops and industry up there it’s like a veritable Santa’s workshop. Which is kind of fitting, as traditionally Rovaniemi has always been considered the home of Santa Claus.

Except in America.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Esther patting Siberian Huskies in Santa's Village,
Rovaniemi. In winter you can go for rides on a sled pulled
by a team of Siberian Huskies.

Which is a shame, because the Santa’s Village up there could really do with some American “jazzing up”. Finns don’t really do tourism particularly well. Maybe they don’t consider it real work, or maybe it’s just their laconic nature which isn’t particularly suited to selling things generally, but if you’d been to Finland you’d know tourism and the service industry aren’t really the Finnish people’s strongest suit. In fact, even at Linnanmäki, the theme park in Helsinki, you might notice a bizarre phenomenon. Finns don’t scream. Which means from below you can watch roller-coasters going round and round their circuits in a strange surreal sort of silence. Occasionally, one person will start and the rest will generally get the idea, but not always. There’s a reason why Kimi Räikkönen was nicknamed the Iceman.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Wolves (Sutta)  in Ranua.

Just to the South of Rovaniemi, in the town of Ranua, lies the world’s northernmost zoo. It’s definitely worth a visit, as, if you’re a city person like Esther and I are, then it’s most likely you’ll travel through the North with only the most fleeting glimpses of the strange Northern creatures that inhabit the Arctic region. I found that visiting a zoo compensated for my lack of outdoors ability and allowed me to take some photos to show everyone back home that I really had been to the furthest extremes of the Earth.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
A Lynx or Ilves feeding in Ranua.

Well, nearly.

The Downing Centre Local Courts

Image via WikipediaDowning Centre Local Courts, Sydney

It’s perhaps a little known fact, but most courthouses are actually open to the public. It is apparently a long-standing common law tradition that justice must be delivered in plain view.

Reflecting the old adage that:

“… it is not merely of some importance but is of fundamental importance, that justice should not only be done, but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done.”

In fact, I read one source which claims that the tradition of the “open court” dates back to Norman England.

Which means that, generally, a member of the public can (and in fact has a right to) enter a courthouse and sit-in on any particular case that happens to be “showing”. Just like in a cinema - except that it’s free. Of course, this isn’t an absolute right, there are types of cases which are exceptions to this rule and courts are able to make a “suppression order” if they feel it is in the “public interest” or the “interests of justice” that the details of a case aren’t made available to the public at large - and then of course some cases are just mind-numbingly boring and completely incromprehensible to the lay-person and are thus, closed to the public by de facto.

In any case, last week I made a trip to the Downing Centre Local Courts in Sydney. Where I witnessed the sundry specimens of humanity that find themselves caught-up somehow or another in the legal system.

There was the petite woman of 19 who was served an AVO - that is, an Apprehended Violence Order - incredible as it seemed to me. In fact it took me some 10 minutes to realise that she was the one who had perpetrated the violence in a domestic with her boyfriend. She began her case waiting for her solicitor to arrive - it would seem counsel for the defendant from the Legal Aid office was late. Apparently, she had been drinking - and drugs had been consumed, with her boyfriend one Friday or Saturday when the assault took place, she had a hazy memory of the night, only remembering that she woke-up in a paddy-wagon. She had also assaulted the arresting officers it turned-out. I looked at her; “her?” I thought, “she’s tiny.” I decided she must’ve had a weapon, a knife or something.

“Assault is a serious offence” intoned the judge, “a punch is an act of violence”.

“A punch? She punched her boyfriend and he is serving her with an AVO?” I looked at her a third time: “her?”.

Well who am I judge?

There were the two hoteliers who had not complied with the correct procedures for signage of a licensed premises. They had a confident and well-spoken lawyer, who certainly didn’t show-up late, but when he sat down you could see that he was wearing bright red socks. I spotted them all together chatting and laughing after the case - even though they’d lost.

I saw two matters of the “morning after the night before” - drink driving incidents where the accused had been found to still have an illegal level of alcohol in his and her bloodstreams respectively on the afternoon of the next day.

And I saw a grizzled-old security guard, built like a tank, he looked like one of those old square-shaped and boxy looking Land Rovers that you still see around sometimes, solid.

Who needs movies hey?

Just remember that there are some rules regarding behaviour in a courtroom and it’s not all etiquette. You must bow to the magistrate or judge when entering and when exiting the courtroom, you must turn off your mobile phone and aren’t to eat or drink in a courtroom. You cannot take notes in a courtroom without permission and you likewise cannot bring cameras into a court.

Also remember to be respectful - these are real people, their friends and family.