I am a Globe Trotter

Going to new places, seeing new sights and experiencing new things rules. It is known. I'd love start travel writing in it's own blog, but until I manage to organise that: there's this.

The Process and the Platform

The effort required to actually publish that last post was... considerable. Several factors contributed to this:

  • I have slow internet access at my hotel;
  • Currently, my only (full) computer is my work laptop;
  • This doesn't have iPhoto installed (this is mostly for reasons of simplicity, I'd probably get it if I asked).

In the end, I wrote the text of the post in Evernote on my iPad (using an external keyboard), since I'm supposed to install an absolute minimum of third party software on the laptop. Next, I did a copy paste into BlogPress, a blogging app which lets you

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...In Which I Go Full Nerd

Jet lag is a funny thing. Right now it actually seems to be working in my favour; it's managed to knock a couple of bad habits out of me. Specifically, these happen to be the not entirely unrelated habits of going to bed too late (then making it later by reading for a good long while) and getting up too late. Right now I seem to be fighting to keep my eyes open by around nine, and then being wide awake by seven. Which is more or less the position I found myself in on Sunday. Since day one at

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This Morning.

You're going to have to wait a little while longer for the Computer History Museum, Silicon Valley Wandering and San Francisco based updates I had in mind, since I still haven't found a good way of adding the images I wanted to. In the meantime, I thought I'd tell you about my morning, in a similar (if significantly smaller in scope) fashion to Tim Bray's semi-famous post.

Now, Google is very transparent internally, but also has fairly strict rules about what you can and can't talk to people about, regardless of whether you're talking to your friends, your family, random

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A brief update

Most people can definitively trace at least one or two traits directly back to one of their parents. In my case I can definitely lay the blame for two at the feet of my father:

  1. I know the rules of cricket inside out;
  2. Walking right across town doesn't faze me in the slightest.

The first isn't really important right now (unless you need to know the specifics of the leg before wicket rule STAT), while the second is the result of a father who likes to walk. A lot. In fact many of my childhood holidays consisted of a series

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Fourteen Days in the Valley

I can see the mountains, but I suppose that's only to be expected. I am in Mountain View, after all.

As of today, I'm in Silicon Valley for my "noogler training," something which most companies would just refer to as an induction. At Google, though, there's a bit more to it than that. There are a lot of tools and technologies to learn, because so much of what we use is built in house, and there is a lot of culture to adapt to, because most companies don't function the way Google functions. Hence, all new hires get shipped over

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[email protected]\.[email protected]\.com/g

Yes. That's right. I did it. I used a sed expression as post title.

I've been very quiet as of late, though in my defence I've been very busy for a few months. In the middle of that I had a potentially life changing decision to make, and then I was dealing with the ramifications of the choice I made.

As you may have gathered from the post title (even if it mostly looks like crazy speak to you), the choice was whether I should accept a job at Google or not. Believe it or not, it was a choice,

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The Journey Home

Authors note: This post was actually written on Sunday. As it turns out, writing it on the iPad was no problem at all, but actually posting it (with the picture and links) was a different matter entirely.

You know, the train journey from Edinburgh to Doncaster is really quite beautiful, for the most part. A reasonable amount of it happens within sight of the sea and most of the rest passes through open country. The Yorkshire dales is a landscape I find quite pleasing to look out over, unless I'm driving through it, in which case I find to to

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The right kind of holiday

It has been, by my count, at least 18 months since I last had a holiday (aside from one weekend spent in Cardiff). It's getting to the point where I'm starting to feel that I really need a one. But what kind of holiday?

Having stopped to think about it, I've realised that most of the holidays I've taken have been of the package type. With the skiing holidays this isn't so bad, it's possibly even ideal. The rest of the time... not so much. It feels a little too much like being cattle, it feels very lowest common denominator

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Sasanach

Helen's comment on my previous entry put me in mind of what I've felt as the Scottish attitude towards England and the English more or less ever since I arrived here (seven years ago!). It goes something like this:

The English? Bastards! We hate 'em! Oh, but we're not talking about you, of course. Dear me, no. More tea? Scone?

I am generalising massively here, but it is the case that though I've felt quite a bit of anti-English sentiment here (World Cup, anyone?), I've met seldom few who've had a problem with me because _I'm _English. The exceptions are

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Why Bristol Depressed Me, and Other Stories...

So.

It's not that I feel that Bristol is an intrinsically bad or depressing place. My attitude to it was coloured by the fact that I was a little tired of travelling, tired in general and didn't entirely want to be there. Also, and this is the key fact, I'd just got back from Iceland. I liked Iceland a lot, despite the twelve hour days I felt almost no stress the entire I was there. There's something very chilled about the place, and there was almost no traffic congestion, even considering that we drove through the middle of Reykjavik every

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