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Thursday, 31 October 2024

Valencia and man-made climate change

An unthinkable tragedy for Europe; a year's worth of rainfall in eight hours and over 150 people dead. People who as they woke on Tuesday 29 October 2024 had no idea that this would be their last day on earth, no idea that their lives would be snuffed out by a climate event of unimaginable magnitude. Drowned by surging water or crushed by toppling buildings.

The image that will stay with me of the Valencia floods is not one of people suffering or buildings destroyed, but of this street chock-full of cars (below), swept along by an incredibly powerful surge of water. And I'm thinking – how could this possibly happen? The physics of shifting vehicles – sideways it seems – each weighing one or two tonnes, in such numbers along such a narrow street – the sheer violence of what has happened is all too visible, but hard to take in. But it also shows what a car-dependent species we have become.

Photo credit: B. Hynde-Paywall

There should be no doubts left in anyone's mind that climate change is real; the planet is now over 1.2°C warmer than it was in pre-industrial times, and 0.4°C warmer than in 1980. The effect of that extra heat energy is more powerful storms and heavier rainfalls. Imperial College London's Grantham Institute that studies and attributes the effect of human greenhouse-gas emissions on the climate estimates that the extra 1.2°C of average heat in the system is responsible for rainfall events that can be up to 30% heavier than in pre-industrial times; a deadly difference.

To those who deny the fact that the climate is changing, here's a list of all the major flood events affecting Poland over the last century. Notice the increasing frequency.

Year/eventFatalities in Poland
2024 Central European floods9
2010 Central European floods 25
1997 Central European floods 54
1947 Polish floods  55
1934 flood in Poland 55

Slowly, I feel the message is getting through. Younger people are less likely to want to own or drive a car, and cars make up 12% of human greenhouse gas emissions. But we should all be doing more – or actually, doing less; as I wrote the other day, buying less, travelling less, consuming less.

If we don't, the climate will only continue to deliver more extreme weather events, more frequently. Today it's Valencia; next summer or autumn it could hit you, directly.

This time last year:
On death

This time three years ago:
Improvements on the Radom line

This four years ago:
Rural rights of way, revisited

This time five years ago:

This time six years ago:
Opole in the late-October sunshine

This time seven years ago:
Work begins in earnest on the Karczunkowska viaduct

This time nine years ago:
Sublime autumn day in Jeziorki

This time ten years ago:
CitytoCity, MalltoMall

This time 11 years ago:
(Internet) Radio Days

This time 12 years ago:
Another office move

This time 13 years ago:
Manufacturing a City of Culture

This time 14 years ago:
My thousandth post

This time 15 years ago:
Closure of ul. Poloneza

This time 16 years ago:
Scenes from a suburban petrol station

Wednesday, 30 October 2024

Post-consumerist hygiene

As a youth, I adopted the phrase, "washing is a bourgeois affectation" with a bit of tongue-in-cheek desire to shock. But the notion of hygiene was essentially something I'd bought into from childhood – the Whig View of History which teaches that mankind's journey is a one-way path of constant improvement, that today was better than yesterday, and tomorrow will be better than today. In the past, lack of hygiene would condemn a large swathe of the population to premature death. Today, we know better; our understanding of germ theory has led to a lengthening of life expectancy. We wash, we don't smell, society is healthier and more fragrant than ever.

But has the pendulum not swung the other way? Are we now not weakening our immune systems with too much hygiene? And are we not harming the environment by all the constant flushing of detergents, washing powders and cleansing products into our water?

I noted in August the media fuss around US Olympic triathlete Seth Rider, about to swim in the Seine: "In preparation for this race, I knew there was going to be some E.coli exposure. So I’ve been trying to increase my E.coli threshold by exposing myself to a bit of E.coli in day-to-day life. It’s just little things, like not washing your hands after you go to the bathroom." So the question, Seth, is – are we talking number ones or number twos? The latter, well, just no. The faeco-oral route is a surefire way of getting severe diarrhoea. But few drops of wee on the fingers? 

Have you noticed how fast-food outlets, the ones where you eat food with your hands – burgers, fries, etc – do not post hygiene notices in their toilets? Saying, for example, "Now wash your hands before putting our food into your mouth?" This suggests that the restaurant chains aren't at all worried by the prospect of a customer suing them for punitive damages after getting food poisoning from eating a burger with urine-splashed fingers.

We wash too often, we bathe too often, we shower too often, we wash our hair and our clothes too often. I am not advocating kołtuństwo; I am, however, calling for people to consider their hygiene habits in the context of whether they are necessary; approach it consciously, wash when you need too, not automatically.

Working mostly from home with one or two trips to town a week, I'll always, but always, take a shower before getting dressed in smart clothes to go meet people. But the rest of the time, I'd be more relaxed about personal hygiene. Washing hands thoroughly after a poo – absolutely. After a wee? Not necessarily. After doing some gardening? Yes. After going for a walk? Not unless I've been handling something out there.

Oral hygiene is a different matter; I brush my teeth after each meal and always have a toothbrush and toothpaste on hand in my rucksacks. Even after eating an apple found upon my walk will be followed by brushing my teeth out in the fields; sugar + fruit acid not a good combination for dental health.

I'm comfortable eating home-aged food, way past its best-by or sell-by dates. Recently I found I'd consumed a pack of hummus that was two weeks beyond the 'consume by' date. No problem; robust gut flora microdosed on food no longer at the height of its freshness.

Overall, my spending on personal hygiene products is low. Sensodyne toothpaste, Head & Shoulders shampoo, generic store-brand soap in bar- and liquid form, and that's it! How much of my currently accumulated wealth is the result of spending 20%-50% less than average on personal hygiene products over a working lifetime? Ignoring the blandishments of the personal hygiene industry and not filling my bathroom with a vast collection of plastic bottles?

This time last year:
October's benign end

This time two years ago:
Disclosure day tomorrow?
[Next congressional UFO hearing: 13 November 2024]

This time three years ago:
Coping with time change (go to bed an hour earlier!)

This time four years ago:
A sustainable food system for rural Poland

This time five years ago:
Sifting through a life

This time seven years ago:
Throwing It All Away

This time eight years ago:
Hammer of Darkness falls on us again
[Again: avoid symptoms of seasonal affective disorder by going to bed an hour earlier and waking an hour earlier when the wretched clocks go back!]

This time nine years ago:
The working week with the clocks gone back

This time 11 years:
Slowly on the mend after calf injury

This time 12 years ago:
Thorunium the Gothick

This time 13 years ago:
Łódź Widzew or Widź Łódzew 

This time 15 years ago:
A touch of frost in the garden
[October 2024: no frost!]

Tuesday, 29 October 2024

Warszawa Zachodnia takes shape underground

Changing trains at Warszawa Zachodnia (Warsaw West) railway station this week, I was in for a pleasant surprise. No longer must passengers making the connection to Peron 9 (platform 9) trudge (or sprint) a kilometre or so on a zigzag route along the length of Platform 8, down steps, over tracks, between corrugated metal fences and under more tracks; we are now sent underground to experience what will be the new subterranean parts of the station.

Reminder: part of the modernisation of what was once Poland's Worst Station is the construction under the railway lines of a new tram tunnel. This cuts north-south, one day it will conduct trams from Wilanów to Wola. [The brand-new tramline to Wilanów opened yesterday; I will have to go there and have a look at some stage.]

Trams don't serve as yet Zachodnia station; a new line will lead them from ul. Grójecka along the wonderfully named ulica Bitwy Warszawskiej tysiąc dziewięćset dwudziestego roku (can anyone name a London thoroughfare consisting of 18 syllables?), then dive under Al. Jerozolimskie and the plethora of railway tracks to resurface on the other side then bifurcating (one line heading north-west to Wola, the other north-east towards the tram depot on ul. Młynarska. This new tram infrastructure is expected to be ready in April 2026. And with that, the modernisation of Warszawa Zachodnia will be complete. More than five years after work started.

In the meanwhile, changing trains at Zachodnia can now be done through a series of underground spaces and passages to the north of the main station. Below: the path to Platform 9 now leads from the bottom of the footbridge, across what will be the taxi drop-off lane to the steps leading down into liminal spaces where reality bends back upon itself...


Below: ... but where do we go from here? There's too much confusion. Into the Zone. All is silent and still. Digital timetable indicators stare blankly; many passages are blocked off. Familiar destinations (ul. Tunelowa) are now accessible via new and unfamiliar paths. Which way now?


Below: one day, this concourse will be thronged with passengers from Kraków, Katowice, Wrocław, Poznań and Gdańsk, Berlin, Prague and Budapest, changing from the trains up there for trams down here to all points in Warsaw. But today, post-futuristic scenes like this have been opened up to the public, speaking of transition. Tomorrow as perceived from the far future.

Below: somewhere between the main body of the station (Platforms 1-8) and Platform 9. Otherworldly. We, the human lab(yrinth) rats. No one around; the next train from Platform 9 does not depart for another 20 minutes.


Below: emerging at Platform 9. Still much work to be done here, despite the recent modernisation which saw a canopy over the platform, but no electronic display boards or other amenities. The escalators down to the new tunnel are not yet in service. And at the other end of the platform, the pedestrian crossing to the footbridge and to the Expo XXI centre has still to be re-opened.


Passing through Zachodnia, as I do frequently, the changes appear slow week to week, but over the years, as can been seen on this blog, progress is visible and when complete, with all the lifts and escalators and indicators working, the improvement will be massive. Click on the label 'W-wa Zachodnia' to the left to see just how much this station has changed since the first decade of this century.

This time time three years ago:
Two years without my father

This time four years ago:
Death of my father

This time six years ago
Recent Jeziorki update

This time seven years ago:
Autumn in Jeziorki

This time eight years ago:
A driving ban for developers and architects

This time nine years ago:
Do you keep coming back, or do you seek the new?

This time ten years ago:
In praise of Retro design

This time 11 years ago:
First snowfall in Warsaw 

This time 12 years ago:
Of cycles, economic and human 

This time 13 years ago:
Why didn't I read this before? Grapes of Wrath

This time 14 years ago:
Małopolska from the train

Saturday, 26 October 2024

Five hours in a museum.

The entry ticket reads 11:05; I check my phone on leaving – it says 16:05. So I spent five hours in a museum, and to be honest, an extra 30 minutes could have come in handy, but there was a train to catch. 

The museum in question is Gdynia's Emigration Museum. The initial plan was to pop in, do it, and go for a seaside walk around the shoreline to the cliffs to the south, at Redłowo and Orłowo. But the museum proved so compelling that rushing it proved impossible. Around 14:00 I checked the time and realised that three hours had passed and there were still several sections still to visit!

Sadly, Wikipedia's English-language page fails to convey just how impressive the museum is:

The Emigration Museum (in Polish: Muzeum Emigracji) is a museum located in the city of Gdynia, Poland. Opened to the public on 16 May 2015, it showcases 200 years of Polish emigrations, from the 19th century to modern days. It is located in the former Maritime Station, which from the 1930s until 1979 was a transit building from which thousands of Polish emigrants left for their new homelands. The building was refurbished in mid-2014 at a cost of PLN 49.3 million.

Neither does the museum's website do it justice; Google helpfully suggests setting aside 1.5 to 2 hours to visit the place, located inside the old ocean terminal building of the port of Gdynia.

Why did it resonate with me so much? Why such an amazing museum it undersell itself?

I soon realised that it's vastly more than just about emigration. It is about that; but also about deportations, ethnic cleansing, exile and escape, above all it tells the story of tens of millions of Poles, uprooted by circumstance or choice. It is, rather, a museum of Polish history explained through the prism of the mass-movement of human beings. At the outset, I'd imagined that the stories told would not involve me – but there, in one of the very first exhibits, was a photo of the school my mother attended in Palestine in 1943, and in that photo – can't read the tiny names... isn't that my aunt, Irena?

The museum takes on a historical journey from the late middle ages through to Poland's accession to the EU in 2004, and starts by setting out Poland's geopolitical and ethnographic situation at the height of its ascendency as a European power in the 17th century. Historically a refuge for the persecuted, including Jews, Catholic Scots, Mennonites and Evangelists, Poland switched to become a source of net emigration after it was partitioned at the end of the 18th century.

The brutally suppressed insurrections against Russian rule in 1831 and 1863 drove many Poles to emigrate, but the largest and longest wave of Polish emigration was from Galicia, the southwestern part of the country under Austro-Hungarian rule, in the second half of the 19th century. While the tragic story of the Irish potato famine and the wave of emigration that it spurred is well known, I did not know that potato blights and other famine events hit Galicia with regularity at that time, the last famine there being in 1913. Rural overcrowding, poverty and lack of opportunity drove generation after generation to leave their places of birth and seek a better life abroad.

The exhibition here goes into great detail about the typical emigrant journey, from a poor village outside Rzeszów to Chicago in the 1890s. The introduction of the steamship from the 1860s on, and America's willingness to take in the huddled masses, led to a huge flow of emigrants from Poland, as well as Italy, Ireland and Germany. This phenomenon shaped the USA into the country it is today. Without such a huge boost to its the labour force and consumer market, the US would never have established itself as a global industrial and military power by the start of the 20th century. 

Below: a model of Polish steamship, the MS Batory, which plied the Atlantic between 1935 and 1971. During WW2, it served as a troopship for Allied forces. [The Batory should not be confused with the later TSS Stefan Batory, in service with the Polish shipping line between 1952 and 1988.]

Below: exhibit showing the journey from New York to Chicago. Also of note are the exhibits showing the glamour, bustle, excitement and sophistication of New York and Chicago by the end of the 19th century – and the contrast with poverty stricken Galicia.

The culture shock that met rural Poles on their first contact with New York at that time – already a city of 4m inhabitants – with its skyscrapers, overhead railways, department stores, entertainment and restaurants is made clear. But to get there, one had to be filtered through Ellis Island, where all third-class migrants were screened for disease, criminality, and later, literacy. Some 2% of all newcomers were put back on ships bound for Europe. But most were allowed in after facing many hours of indignity. Chicago beckoned many Poles, the meat-packing yards needed manpower. Poles fanned out across the States, got rich, but never quite forgot their homeland.

Less well-known are the stories of Poles who emigrated to Latin America in the 19th and early 20th centuries. There's a section about Ernest Malinowski, the engineer who designed the Trans-Andean Railway in Peru, and fascinating snapshots of life in rural communities in Brazil at the time.

WW2 is focused on – the mass deportations of millions of Poles into the USSR and Nazi Germany; the forced labour camps; the resettlement at the war's end; the fate of those who returned to communist Poland; the wanderings of Poles with Anders' army and Polish government in exile – all these stories are thoroughly told through many voices (you can listen on headphones while scrolling through photos and letters). Much is told about the London government in exile and its role in keeping alive the flame of a free Poland, and Radio Free Europe and the BBC World Service Polish section are also mentioned.

Of greatest relevance to Poles today are the two galleries showing life in communist Poland and the fall of communism. The attempts to escape, the trading routes across the communist bloc (going on holiday to Bulgaria, East Germany, the USSR or Hungary to sell Polish products in short supply there and bring back goods in plentiful supply on those markets but lacking in Poland), and the day-to-day difficulties in life in an oppressive and inefficient system and beautifully portrayed. The role of Pope John Paul II in the struggle against communism is highlighted, including his visit to London to meet Polish emigres living there (at which I was present). The Solidarity movement, founded down the coast in Gdańsk, is also explained in detail, in the context of how it was supported by Polish communities around the world.

The final section is about the most recent wave of emigration – after Poland joined the EU. Complex and nuanced, the museum brilliantly shows the upsides and downsides of emigration. It is worth going to Gdynia to see – but to get the most out of it, set aside at least five hours!

Emigration policy will become a crucial test for every rich-world government. Those that do it right will prosper – those who either close their doors or else let everyone in will not.

This time five years ago:
Down the track from Chynów to Warka

This time six years ago:
The possibilities of a quantum universe

This time seven years ago:
More about sleep

This time 12 years ago:
On behalf of the workshy community

This time 13 years ago:
Classic truck cavalcade

This time 14 years ago
Narrow back-roads clogged with commuters

This time 15 years ago:
Autumn gold, Łazienkowski Park

This time 17 years ago:
Of bishops and bands

Sunday, 20 October 2024

To Warka, to the river

After yesterday's long walk, a somewhat shorter one was in order today. Train assisted. So off I set to the station, to catch whichever train would come first – northbound or southbound. The timetable said it would be the southbound service to Radom, so I decided to take it down to Warka and spend some time down by the river. And so, 45 minutes after leaving home, I'm on the banks of the Pilica river, which demarcates the southern boundary of the Grójec apple-growing district.


Below: the Pilica has become a centre for canoeing, with several centres along this stretch of river. In season, flotillas of boats would be paddling along with the stream.


The banks of the Pilica witnessed the ebb and flow of war several times during the course of history. In April 1656 the Polish army defeated the Swedes at the Battle of Warka. Below: the fording of the Pilica by the Polish army, by Franciszek Smuglewicz (1745-1807). This would have been somewhere between where the road and rail bridges cross the river today.


Below: statue of Stefan Czarniecki, hetman of the victorious Polish army, in Warka's town square (the town hall in the background).


Below: tourist flights are quite the thing on days like today. The sky is not as pure as it was yesterday, with wispy clouds taking the brightness out of the light, but even so, from 1,000ft up, the Pilica valley must look gorgeous in its autumnal colours.


Left: looking across the escarpment on the north bank of the Pilica, with the rail bridge in the distance. Photo taken from the steps leading down from the town square to the river.

Below: Sunday siesta time in southern Spain? This is Ulica Lotników in Warka which links the town square to the recently opened Warka Miasto railway station. The neat row of trees and the yellow ochre facade of the single-story house across the road, plus total lack of people in the street give that sleepy-time-down-south vibe.


Below: my train home approaching the Pilica river. 


Below: (click to expand) map of my part of the world from the Polish government geoportal site, showing land use. Green is forestry; yellow is orchard. Mazovia's orchardland is centred around the town of Grójec, the Pilica being the southern boundary, the Vistula to the east, extending slightly beyond to the DW801, the road to Puławy. To the north, orchardland is bounded by the Skierniewice-Łuków railway line, and to the west, the S8 expressway.


A mere 13,000 paces walked today!

This time five years ago:
Homeward from the demo

Saturday, 19 October 2024

A day such as this on Earth

A spell of sunny days, cloudless skies; sublime. My brain works better. More vivid, memorable dreams. More flashbacks, exomnesia moments of recognition of that previous time and place. More insights into the nature of reality. In the sharp light, all is clear; ambiguities are dispersed. 

Do clouds soak up some fundamental particle that interacts with my consciousness?

On a day like today there's no other activity that can compete with a long walk to bask in those autumnal rays and let them work their miracles. Out, then, into the sun. Below: forest to the left, orchards to the right – the track from Machcin II to Grobice.

My walk today was to stroll through villages that I had only hitherto motorcycled through; Wincentów and Linin. But the first village beyond my usual strolling range was Staniszewicze (below). From here I turned north towards Wincentów...

One thing I wanted to see was the airfield in Wincentów, which serves light aviation. Below: RWY 01 – a grass strip, the hangar and clubhouse in the distance. [Runway 01 = ten degrees off due north. The analogous runway number at the other end is 19, ten degrees off due south. Runway numbers use the 360° circle dropping the final digit, for example a runway ending due west, or 270°, is RWY27.]


Left: though I didn't see any aircraft movements when passing the airfield, I did see several planes flying around while on my walk – a perfect day for sightseeing flights.

Face towards the sun. Below: the wind moves through a field, backlit by the sun; I see grass sparkle, analogous to J.B. Priestley's "sea sparkle". It's the second half of October and yet greenery predominates, despite the dry summer. Mazovia is blessed. It is here I picnic, just outside of Linin; an orchard to the left of me, an orchard behind me. I sit down to enjoy some kiełbasa with bread rolls, and apple (not from these orchards!) and some feldalkohol – a 500ml can of nicely chilled Becks lager (4.20 złotys/81p from the local shop. Just looked up the UK price. Horrific).

Below: Lininek, south of Linin. Deep in orchard country. In the distance, that characteristic 'thud' of apples being dropped into pails. You can hear the pickers, but you can't see them in between the dense rows of apple trees. It's sunny, but no longer hot. Top temperature today around 16°c; two-layers weather.


Left: the wayside shrine in the above photograph. Painted in a very pale blue, with an ivory-coloured bust of Pope John Paul II at the front and figurines of angels on the sides, it is a very unusually decorated shrine for the area, there being no Virgin Mary or Jesus upon it. Visually, very effective against a crystalline sky, making me pause for reflection.

Below: the wood on the way home. Familiar and benign, my local forest holds no terrors for me, even at the dead of night. I have become from here.

My walk today totalled over 15 kilometres (22,000 paces), taking in Machcin, Staniszewice, Wincentów, Linin, Lininek, then back to Staniszewice, Grabina and home. Every ounce of sunshine in the darker half of the year needs to be extracted and benefited from.

Below: back on the działka, the afternoon sun lights up the golden leaves of a silver birch in the neighbouring forest.

And a thought. Qualia moments are best experienced on one's own, with no distracting conversation to drown them out – no matter how fascinating the topic, no matter how compelling the discussion. Company is all well and good, but experiencing moments such as these is a solitary pursuit. For some reason, Mott the Hoople's All the Way from Memphis popped into my head. Looking it up once home, I noted that the song received its maximum UK radio airplay in September and October 1973; perhaps I had experienced similar meteorological conditions back in the Old Country one autumn day 51 years ago, a memory which returned the song.

This time last year:
Flashbacks multiply as autumn sun wanes

This time two years ago:
I dream of telepathy

This time four years ago:
S7 update, around what's now Węzeł Zamienie

This time five years ago:
Marchin' again

This time six years ago:

Wednesday, 16 October 2024

Under Rzeszów – subterranean inspirations

Two weeks ago, I was chatting to my brother about my desire to build a Museum of Entropy in tunnels under my garden. Brick-lined, the tunnels would have enclaves or niches built into the walls in which exhibits would be displayed, illuminated by candle light. Little did I think as I described the place that I'd soon be visiting something that is remarkably similar to that.

Rzeszów is a town I have visited regularly over the years, though I hadn't (until now) been in the extensive warren of underground cellars and tunnels under the old market square. Built in the 14th and 15th centuries to serve as storage areas for the shops above, the subterranean complex has had a thorough renovation and been repurposed as a tourist attraction.


Work on the complex took place in five stages from the 1960s through to 2020, with an initial focus on preserving the structural integrity of the historic buildings around the market square (to stop them from collapsing). Successive stages incorporated more and more chambers and passages into the complex.



Left: the steps go from one level to the next, down to a maximum depth of ten metres below the market square. For those with a taste for mysterious underground passages, this place is hugely atmospheric. The history full of invasions and fires, is told right through to WW2, when Jews sought shelter here from the Holocaust As such, it is a microcosm of Poland's ever-changing fortunes. Display cases, LCD screens and interactive exhibits tell the story. One salient point made is that religious tolerance was insisted upon by the city's 17th century owners (and rulers), the Lubomirski family; if Catholics, Jews, Protestants and Orthodox Christians were to co-exist peacefully, trade would flourish and the city would prosper.

Below: the city's story is told in graphic and textual form as one passes from chamber to chamber. [Apologies for the picture quality – hand-held at two seconds with an ultra-wide lens.]


Below: Rzeszów town hall, the following morning. The entrance to the underground complex is at one end of the market square; you emerge in a different place, which can be a bit disorientating.


I must say. it would be great to have such a complex under my garden – a maze of brick-lined tunnels running hither and thither. A bit like the Mole Man of Hackney!


This time two years ago:
Cottagecore - a manifesto

This time three years ago
Ego, Consciousness and Soul

This time four years ago:
Samopoczucie, Joy and the Sublime Aesthetic

This time six years ago:
Autumn, with a railway theme

This time seven years ago:
A few words about coincidence

This time ten years ago:
Hello, pork pie [my week-long pork-pie diet]

This time 12 years ago:
The meaning of class - in England, in Poland

This time 13 years ago: 
First frost 

This time 17 years ago:
First frost 


Sunday, 13 October 2024

Started the day well?

The daily routine begins with waking up before dawn, now that it's dark at around half past six, sunrise being a little before 7am now. Slippers on, a wee, make the bed – and then, before anything else, the first set of exercises of the day. Pull-ups. Eight in one go, from full-dangle to chin above the bar. This is now the standard; I remember the elation at managing six for the first time in November 2022, eight in February 2023 and nine on 18 September 2024. 

Doing the eight pull-ups first thing in the morning gives me a real boost and sets me up for the day. If I fail to do this, I feel that laziness has got one over on me; consequently the rest of the day either slips or is coloured by atonement and doubt. Waking up with a headache, the result of dehydration or a heavy night, is the one excuse I give myself for not starting the day with a burst of exercise.

Next up is a review of the to-do list in my day book. This gives shape to how the day is likely to unfold. What needs to be done, what's urgent, travel plans (when I need to leave to catch the train). The list is usually about four to seven points long. Whatever can be put off until the future generally is. Stress is to be avoided, as is guilt.

Now the laptop can be switched on. I like to tune into BBC Radio 4's Farming Today (05:45 UK, 06:45 in Jakubowizna) followed by the Today Programme which starts with the 6am news headlines, a review of the papers and the business news. I switch off with the sports. While listening to Radio 4, I make and drink my daily coffee.

The morning coffee is an integral part of the morning ritual. Grinding the beans (125 turns of the crank, enough ground coffee to fill the basket of my three-cup Bialetti), boiling water, filling the tank to the safety valve, dropping the basket in, screwing the top on and putting it on the hob. I heat it with the lid open, surfing the flame so as to quickly stop the brewing process before the angry sputtering starts (which leads to burnt coffee smell and taste compromising the brew).

Once drunk, the coffee does the trick, the digestive process is complete, and having emptied by bowels, I give thanks for my regularity and that everything's working properly, time to experience the sensation of gratitude for my health. 

And another eight pull-ups. After the caffeine jolt, before breakfast, and moving less weight (see above), it's this second set that usually breaks records. This gives me a rush of adrenaline and endorphine, and I'm up for the challenges of the day. Which begins with breakfast. Porridge followed by smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, or a tuna sandwich. Protein and carbs. And fresh apple juice.

Then brushing my teeth, and another reminder to be grateful for health. And to reach out to the Purpose, the Source, the Cosmic Unity, to ask for Alignment.

Generally, my morning ritual is the same across the week – early morning starts and business travel (something I try to limit these days) are the exceptions. This also means being in bed shortly after ten pm, so as I can get in a solid eight hours' of sleep. I do not use an alarm clock. Travel that necessitates the use of one to wake up at stupid o'clock is something I have cut out of my life. Too much stress. And given the clocks going back at the end of this month, once more, I shall not move my daily routine to accommodate the time change; rather, I shall go to be one hour earlier, waking up one hour earlier, in other words at the same time relative to the sun.

This time eight years ago:
The rich get richer – hence Brexit and Trump

This time nine years ago:
Respect for pedestrians' lives? Not among Polish MPs

This time 12 years ago:
Autumnal gorgeousness in Warsaw

Friday, 11 October 2024

A little bit more like autumn

I asked on Tuesday whether that (8 October) would be the last hot day of the year – it wasn't. After a rainy Wednesday, yesterday (Thursday), saw my external digital thermometer record a high of 23.7°C at quarter past two in the afternoon sunshine. Today was also sunny, but the highest temperature was a mere 14°C, a big difference. So I set off wearing two layers, the outer being a mid-weight jacket. A cool wind from the north-west blew in my face on the outward leg of my walk. At no time did I feel overdressed or in need of removing my jacket. 

Autumnal – but that beautiful autumn, starting to turn gold. Mushrooms – and mushroom pickers – are noticeable in the forests (though I can see only toadstools). Below: a recently ploughed field on the south-eastern edge of Jakubowizna. The tree on the left shows evidence of early leaf-shedding.


Below: entering Widok, where, according the local Facebook page, one of the two shops here will be reopening under new management. It could do with improvement, in particular a move toward self-service and a wider selection of product. Widok's other small shop serves great locally sources smoked meats.


Below: a new(-ish) wooden home built in the old style, Widok.


Below: a roadside crucifix by a small pond in Widok near the junction for Węszelówka.


Below: a familiar view on the way back home, taken from the top of a heap of earth by the side of the track from Adamów Rososki to Machcin II.

Below: autumn's emblem. The other one I'm not yet seeing – babie lato – (or spider ballooning). 

Below: again, a familiar view; the track back to Jakubowizna dives into the trees as autumn starts painting its colours on the leaves.


Back home with 13,000 paces on the clock, a walk of just under two hours. A similar day tomorrow – sunshine forecast for the whole day, maximum temperature 14°C, so I should make the most of it.

This is ideal weather for tourism; not too hot, dry – and the schools and universities are back.

This time three years ago:
Sublime farewell to sunny summer days
[I had to start heating the house then; not so this year or last.]

Wednesday, 9 October 2024

The human mind seeks mystery and magic

So much of our entertainment feed is to do with the unknown. From unsolved murder cases to UFOs, from ghost stories to the great puzzles of the past, there's something about the way our brains are wired that make it easy for us to get roped in by a good mystery. We want to hear about something puzzling – and then we want the solution, and preferably one that's not mundane but one that intrigues.

In our day-to-day lives, we observe patterns. Since childhood we have been putting two and two together to make sense of our reality and the world around us. And it's the anomalies that don't fit those established patterns that grab our attention. Philosopher of the history of science (or historian of the philosophy of science!) Thomas Kuhn said that discovery starts with the awareness of anomaly.

A pattern that we can all observe is the correlation between cause and effect – every physical phenomena that we observe has a physical cause. Magic is defined as a phenomenon that has no physical cause. 

We live, we learn, we accept explanations (our smartphones and laptops are beyond the comprehension of most of us, and yet we don't consider them to be magic) because we outsource the understanding of how they work to someone else. It has ever been thus – but historically, we'd outsource that understanding to shamans and holy men rather than scientists and engineers.

Curiosity is a natural characteristic of an organism as it adapts to its environment. There are wide variations in degree of curiosity from individual to individual. From the Darwinian point of view, too much curiosity is bad for survival, as is too little. Biologically, it's dangerous to be too curious, but then again it's dangerous not to be curious enough. But having somewhat more than average is a good thing, I'd argue. And I'd define a good teacher as one who raises their pupils' curiosity levels, placing more value in encouraging curious minds than in rote learning, important though that be.

The curious mind is intrinsically attracted to mystery, to trying to work out what has yet to be worked out. Curiosity keeps the human spirit questing, it gives purpose to life. Indeed, the advance of science and technology is about uncovering and making sense of the unknown. But there's more that's unknown than just physical matter. The arcane, the hermetic, the occult – the hidden. That which some do not wish others to see. Why not? Can I see it? Please?

Of course the greatest mystery, considered by nearly all of the 117 billion human beings who reached adulthood in health – what happens to our consciousness, our subjective experience of existing, when we die?

This time last year:
"Praise the Lord!" – thoughts about gratitude

This time two years ago:
Too busy running around and making cider!
[Biennial bearing; none in 2023, lots this year.]

This time three years ago:
All together, saving our planet

This time four years ago:
Consciousness, evolution and diet

This time nine years ago:
Chill beneath blue skies

This time 13 years ago:
Poles vote for continuity

This time 14 years ago:
Our daily Polish bread

This time 15 years ago:
Friday, Warsaw, October

Tuesday, 8 October 2024

Last hot day of the year?

Some time after lunch, I noticed that it was hotter outside than indoors. I opened all the windows and the front door, and as soon as I could close the laptop, I was off for an autumnal walk to glory in the warmth. Dressed in a shirt with a light jacket, I was soon overheated, so the jacket was removed and stowed in the rucksack. Thermometer in my phone said 23°C. Every hour of heat stores in the walls and postpones the day when I have to start heating the house.

Below: gone 4pm and setting off; just across the road from my place – canonical Jakubowizna. Familiar landscapes for my soul.

Below: traditional wooden house along ulica Główna (Main Street), Chynów.

Below: junction of ul. Szkolna ('School Street') and ul. Sportowa ('Sporty Street'), Chynów. The white barriers in the centre of the photo are the bridge over the river Czarna.

Below: house at the edge of the forest, Chynów.

Below: from the footbridge over the DK50, the view looking northwest towards Wola Pieczyska. Note the way the setting sun lights up the electrical wires, looking like the autumnal spiders webs that are still not around in any numbers.

Below: for the first time this autumn, the sun is setting before six pm. It's setting over Lasopole; photo taken from the road bridge over the DK50 between Sułkowice and Chynów. 


UPDATE: 10 October. After a rainy Wednesday (9 October), today was hotter still, with the thermometer reading 23.7°C at 14:15. Strictly one-layer weather on my walk today. For mid-October – lovely!

This time six years ago:
Warszawa Zachodnia Peron 8 to reopen
[Note: the station has since been renamed W-wa Zachodnia Peron 9]