Habituation

Sat in the laboratory, petri dish under the microscope and another sample is now ready to count. The dish has a 1mm square grid on it. Music playing, counter in hand ready to record the essential details in the next five minutes. The only decisions to make are whether to go to the top or bottom first and to scan from  left to right and back again, or up and down likewise.

So why have I never scanned up and down? I always, as far as I am aware have gone horizontally. Is this a thought-out decision or just a habit?

The same situation faces us in many situations in our daily lives, but for the most part we probably aren't conscious of the decisions because they have become habits or we don't make a definite decision, but go with the flow. But at what point does something become a habituation? And was there ever a logical reason for the decision in the first place?

To give a few examples: Why do you shop in that supermarket, buy that brand of soap or tin of beans? In some situations such as going to the cinema on a particular day of the week this may be a matter of cost and owning a particular brand of telephone and the rest of the routine develops around this.

All I am driving at is the suggestion that maybe you should question some of your actions sometimes. Things change, one brand becomes cheaper or more ethical. For others you may not know why you do something but it is simply the way it has always been done. Make your life easier and figure out the most efficient way of doing things. Change your driving habits to save fuel rather than driving to the speed limit. The time difference is probably minimal, or maybe it is worth the extra cost and environmental pollution that the exponential fuel use causes.

The classic story is the family that always cut the end off of the ham bone before roasting it in the oven. Many years later someone thought to question why they always did this difficult task..... and discovered that it was simply to fit it in the oven that was available in grandmother's house and there was no advantage otherwise!

Question, question, keep your mind moving and enjoy your life.
To misquote: Take care of the seconds and the minutes of free time will add up by themselves. After a while there will be a nice half hour to enjoy a book chapter or a glass of wine (or both).

And so the scientific logical mind takes another turn to the obscure, back to my counting!

Concurrent thinking?

What drives the need to blog? Why blog? What is your reason for blogging or reading blogs?

I suspect that the requirement comes from a need to record things, to write them down, to share. So does that go hand in hand with writing a diary or take the place of it? For me arriving in Marseille was a huge step and the need to write, to record and to to tell people about what I was doing was there. The result was both a diary and multiple blog posts. So why now when I am becoming more settled has the diary dried up and the posts died away? Do I not need to tell people about what I am doing any more? or are there other outlets? Here I seem to be talking to friends online and on the telephone more often. I don't know if this has gone hand in hand with the decline, but this is possible. Just as likely though, is that I have relaxed and so the need for an outlet is not there any more..

Despite the apparent relaxation I am not just drifting along, oh no! In the past week I have undertaken six dives in the sea, my first in France. I have gone deeper than I have ever been, been onto my first wreck (and inside it!), past some stunning scenery (and this is after diving in the Red Sea earlier in the year) and seen my first Seahorse in the wild. Little Nudibranches (search for images to see why!) are getting my attention and the more time I spend down there the more I want to do more! The result is that I am eulogising into my dive log and telling people about what I have been seeing, in French and in English, the former to a certain extent! But they haven't yielded diary entries and this blog is the first for a while.

The mind is a strange thing and inexplicable.

And with that I shall depart trailing a line of ascending bubbles as I head to the next beautiful dive site for another 73 centimes (64p)/minute dive. Its worth it, come and join me!

Provencal Pizza

Pizzas in the south of France are not like pizzas from the UK. First of all you only get one size - large; and secondly you only get one thickness - thin. I think this is as close to a traditional pizza as I can image, as you would expect close to the Italian border...
Pizza is also as readily available as a take-away as a kebab,  burger or fish and chips is in the UK. There are even Pizza vans on the corners of many streets selling slices of pizzas rather than whole pizzas, complete with an oven in the back of the van.
The thing I have been really impressed by is the quality of the ingredients, take tonight's four cheese pizza. A British one might use Cheddar, Double Gloucester, Cheshire and something else, but this one had Mozzarella, Rochefort, Goats Cheese and Emmental (I think) on it. Very tasty. And to round it off I was sat on some rocks by the sea, watching the sun go down, the air temperature was still around 25 degrees and it was comforatble in shorts and teeshirt.  The only downside was seeing all the smog in the air and the very red sun. Still I can't complain when I know it is dull and dreary at home!

Silly Rhymes

These rhymes were from the end of my PhD when I was a month away from submission. They have been sitting as a draft for a long time, but I found them today and was amused. I can't remember the context for all of them. Does it matter? I think not. I hope you enjoy them too.

My friend is away
the pictures are done,
maybe if she knew
back she would run,

but in her absence
a letter or a note,
I think I should send,
delivered by Goat!

(c) Martin Lilley 15/3/10
---

Holidays are coming...
For you and for me
For one, the Mountains
For the other, the sea

Why have a British holiday
When Greece you could go?
It really depends if you need
The sun or the snow!

(c) Martin Lilley 15/3/10

-----

You are ignoring

my questions to you

Maybe I should leave them

to ponder and stew.

Were they important?

Was I remiss?

Should I interrupt

my state of bliss?

(c) Martin Lilley 17/3/10


----


It is hard to find
sense in prose,
when rhyming my brain
is all that it knows

Try as I might
I can't seem to find,
Sense or Structure
of Any kind.


(c) Martin Lilley 17/3/10

----

To space your repetition
for the pleasure of thought,
A good rhyme costs money
and needs to be bought

(c) Martin Lilley 17/3/10

----

Ribbons are great

fun to twizzle,

particularly curled
with scissor or brizzle!

Now I have bubbles

to clean my glass;

drinking wine

and feeling class!

Martin Lilley 18/3/10

The Daily Routine

Everyone has a daily routine. For some it is getting the children ready for school, for others planning the dinner and having it ready on time. But it occurred to me this morning that many of these routine things are, well, Routine! We don't think much about them, we just get on and do them. So, what it there in your daily routine that you have to think most about?

Here in Marseille my daily routine is generally based around the commute. I suppose you could classify work as being routine, but for me science always has a challenge and something new to think about and do. I don't think reading the emails and answering them is going to be a particular challenge for me on most days . During my commute I obviously have time to think, to relax (!, the other option is to stress about the slow buses, so relaxing it is!) with a book, and to figure out the day ahead or that which i have just had. If I want a challenge then I will consider which is the quickest way to work or home, depending on the direction and your priorities! I think I have alluded previously to the fact that at present I have a walk, two metros, a bus and a short walk (in several variations). This could be shortened to a slightly longer walk and one bus, but it would take longer. Anyway, the thing that I think about most and challenges me the most...... is where to buy bread!

In Marseille, bread does not last long. It goes stale very quickly, almost whatever you do with it. It is tasty and a fundamental part of the daily life, with jam, cheese, oil, mopping up the end of your dinner, they are all with bread. So where to buy My baguette depends on the time of day I am travelling. Obviously I want to carry it the shortest distance possible, being an unwieldy item, but to be assured of having bread in the evening and for breakfast the next day. So at present I have four or even five boulangeries that I frequent depending on my route, my mood, and the time of day. I haven't yet figured out opening hours, so it is a bit of a game to work out which will be open and whether to take the risk of the one on the corner of my street or not.

So, expense vs distance vs quality of the bread vs risk of the shop being shut. That is the biggest challenge in My daily routine. Et tu?

And this will all change as soon as I move house or find an apartment for myself. What fun!

Is a little peace too much to ask....?

You know you are living in a city when the area is never quiet.... In fact I thought I was living in a quiet neighbourhood, but it seems you can be wrong! Being the summer, the air is filled with the noise of screaming..
..
..
..
SWIFTS!
(Wiki ref and they also feature on a musical track too... see I&T for more information)

Daylight is filled with these wonderful screaming creatures, and sleeping with the window open you wake to them too. I love watching their aerial acrobatics in search of insect prey and the knowledge that they have to drop from a perch to gain flight, they can't just take off from the ground. In fact I have several certainly roosting and possibly nesting in the building opposite, winging their way into a small hole at high speed at dusk. I guess not all the urban noise is artificial.

So off I wander into the countryside at the weekend, for a walk, an explore and possibly some peace and quiet....? Nope, large crickets/Egyptian grasshoppers? fill the air with their churring from trees and reportedly you can hear each one from a couple of kilometres away. Frankly I wouldn't like to comment because every 50 m of so another one is calling from the next tree. The only time they seem to stop is when your presence is perceived and then they are as still as possible to hide their location!

Who said it was hard to observe nature and that you had to get away from it all?
Step outside tomorrow morning and search the air for the sickle-shaped wings and then listen for the screams..

Le Grande Voyage

Well I’ve started my movements to Marseille after a bout of fieldwork in Greece, a quick flurry of properly learning to dive in the Red Sea, and some frantic to and fro-ings to Swansea to collect my things. As with all these things not everything fitted into the car and I ended up having to leave a pile of things for collection by a friend. Still I was glad to have a day at home to sort through all my stuff before packing for Marseille.

For the moment I am keeping a diary (thanks Ruth) of my movements on the way to and around Marseille. How long it will last I don’t know, possibly until it stops feeling like a travelling holiday and starts to become reality. Anyway I thought the best way to keep all you readers updated was to post excerpts from it onto this blog and take it from there. I haven’t really advertised this blog to date, so you may have come across it by surprise. Happy reading of the archives! I suspect there will also be a series of frenchisms added to the text which may or may not be actually correct… but they seemed right at the time.

Travelling to Marseille or Le Grand Voyage

And so it begins.

The time has come to move on, to start a new job and a new life in France.I am excited about going to Marseille, but I’m having trouble convincing my body of this. There was certainly a considerable reluctance to leave the house this morning, rather like that shown by anxious divers. Combined with that the regular sneezing when I drink alcohol at the moment would suggest I’m stressed. I’ll get over it I hope.

I hope I’ve made the right choices with what to pack, not forgotten anything essential and taken nothing needlessly. Some would argue that the climbing harness and shoes, set of speakers and even a laptop were unnecessary… All in all I probably have 30-35kg of luggage.

Departure (from St Pancras) 2 minutes early under sunshine and cloudy skies. I’ve been collared by a lady from Ipsis Murray conducting a survey on board the train. All the usual questions about what you think of the train and station and where you are travelling to. I hope they have to create new codes for some of my answers!

Ha! Technically I’ve already crossed the border and am in French diplomatic territory despite being on the outskirts of London still and stopping at Ebbsfleet on the way.

I had also forgotten I got food on board (travelling first class as you do ;))! I can’t have the wine at the moment but pasta with pesto, pate on fresh bread, potato salad, carrot cake, orange juice and a cup of tea goes down very well. It rather settles the nerves. (Into the tunnel). It is nice to feel pampered and to have extra legroom. It makes you relax in a way that you don’t get on the airlines in cattle class.

Amazingly muddling up French phrases in my mind has made me laugh. I think I’m crazy, as if that is anything new.

Ah good, announcements (on the TGV from Lille to Marseille) are in French and English!

There is also something distinct about every country (or county for that matter). Things I have noticed so far – architecture (of course), motorway signs are much bigger and above your head than in the UK, and the shape of roads near a village. I think the absence of fences or hedges (further inspection suggests they rely on ditches) beside the lanes make them more open.

Landfill site, followed by farmland and a buzzard, followed by a quarry. There aren’t apparently many patches of woodland here (in the middle of France)… as promptly we went through a large patch of deciduous woodland – mainly oak and birch.

18:00 – This area, I guess would be middle eastern France, is much hillier with the ground rising and falling and more trees than northern France. A deep wooded valley with only a small river in the bottom would be good to explore.

British trains will feel slow after le TGV.

The lady (opposite me) and I have been communicating with hand signals. I’m sure I could do French, but it is the quiet coach and I lack confidence, of course!

Lyon Part Dieu station – Someone smoking on the platform, I suspect it was a quick sneaky fag before the train departs. It was, he moved fast when the whistle went.

On the outskirts of Lyon – Funky allotments. Better than erecting your own garden shed, each pair comes with a shed building back to back, complete with a red tiled roof and a veranda. You’d have to see it to get the full image, but wow! Ah, now a new bunch of allotments. These are only second-rate ones further out from the centre. They were again a pair of buildings, but with a boring/enuyeax felt roof. What makes both sorts special is the veranda on the front with (in many cases) plants growing up them.

Finally found the hostel. The road I wanted was marked on the map at the station but absent from those around the town, and I got the direction wrong. As I walked around several blocks searching fruitlessly I got hotter and more frustrated. Eventually I walked into a local police station and asked for directions in English. Very thankful to be here now and we’ll see what tomorrow brings.

To be continued (as they say, written on the third day from leaving the UK) but probably not so lengthily ;).