Star Warsit

I've also made it to Star Wars, though the iconic scrolling intro went right over my head

Sushi Chef

On Wednesday myself and Alex took our first tottering steps on the path to sushi-chefdom. In one five our stint we learned the history of sushi, and how to make different kinds, and general tidbits about sushi culture, Japan, fish, rice and cows.

I love useless bits of information. If only they weren't useless, then I could be an expert and earn a PhD in Factoid Studies. Factoid is an appropriate term, in that it is reminiscent of hemorrhoid, and like hemorrhoids, factoids are things many people would rather not be subject to, would rather not discuss at dinner parties, and find irritating at best, but I digress.

Did you know a real sushi-chef undergoes a ten year apprenticeship? And for the first three years he does nothing but make rice (to learn how to make tiny adjustments in the water level to compensate for humidity)? Or that you need a special license to become a Fugu chef and serve possibly deadly blowfish (who says The Simpsons doesn't educate?). Ah, but do you care? Possibly not. Anyway, these are my sushi:

Underpants theft

I hope this is some kind of prank.  This notice is stuck to the door of the mens changing rooms at work.  I'm not sure which is scarier - that the poster thinks that the theif is going to present himself, and the pants in question to his office, or that he wants his underwear back.  From the sort of person who had the kind of personal hygene that is not beyond "liberating" other peoples (previously worn) underwear from a gym changing room.  The whole thing is vaguely disturbing.

In other news, I'm very impressed with Air France - my tickets arrived today, and thoughtfully included a little card stapled to the front of the ticket envelope thingie with such useful details as the boarding gate opening times and arrival times for my flights, and a very comprehensive tourist map of Paris, and two little baggage tags.  Yeah, I'm easy.

The Great Flight Price Mystery...

I will never understand airfare pricing. There should be a relevant chapter on final year philosophy syllabi - great minds could wrestle with the illogic of it all, maybe one day culminating in a pivotal moment of understanding. I can see it now - hushed academics crowded into an ancient, tiered lecture room, all eyes trained on the brilliant PhD student taking the lecturn: "Gentleman, I have the answer..." - dead silence. "The answer to the meaning of the question of airfare pricing is: 'Bollocks'." Well at least it wasn't 42.

I rolled up at the Finnair website this evening, and went about purchasing the €138 each way tickets to Paris I'd seen over the weekend. I found them, selected some convenient times, reconsidered, and went back to change the time of my return flight. Was this discourteous? Did I somehow offend the cheap flights' sensibilities? Was I overly insensitive with a check box? Who knows. When the page finished loading the cheap options were gone for good, leaving me with €528 euros return as the cheapest option. Oh dear.

Now Finnair runs the flights in question. They are Finnair flights, on Finnair planes, with Finnair meals (they still serve meals and provide free drinks - kudos), served by Finnair hostesses, in Finnair uniforms - you get the picture - yet somehow, the exact tickets that cost €528 euros when purchased from Finnair, cost €325 when purchased from Air France, who buys them from Finnair.

I don't get it. However, I don't care - I've saved €203, which is the approximate price of 5 nights accomodation in the Gobelins district, left bank, baby.


Airline pricing schemes, I fart in your general direction.

Green

I had been told here that Spring would come quickly, but the digital nature of the seasons here is almost outrageous. In the last week every blooming thing (thank you Patrick Kavanah) has sprouted lush green foliage, just as rapidly as they all embraced nudism last October. The clouds relent at least once a day, and if it weren't so unpleasantly frigid (sub ten all week) all would be perfect.

Alex and I were brainstorming as to what conditions lead to such a burst of springiness, which led us to the current changeability of the weather (hint for Helsinki residents - it rains when I take my bike outside...), which in turn led us to mushrooms. We have mushrooms in Ireland, and I'm vaguely aware that some can be eaten, but I've never been mushroom picking. Probably because mushrooms grow in fields, and so do cows and sheep. Well they do.

Around here, and in Russia, on the other hand, mushroom picking is a big past-time. Some Finnish mushrooms are considered delicacies abroad, and sell for hundreds of euros per kilogram. All of which means Finns and Russians know a lot about mushrooms, and one of the things they know, is that intermittent bouts of sun and rain are very good for our fungal friends. This is so culturally embedded, that what we call "sun-showers" in English, are called "mushroom rain" in Russian. Well I found it interesting.

Oh, and finally, I'm going Paris over the first weekend of June with Niamh, Sean and Seamas. What started with a 2am chat in his sitting room in Dublin, ended with a frenzy of phone calls and internet booking in Helsinki. For any of you Dublin or London folk interested in joining the flock, Ryanair flights were dirt cheap (on Tuesday at least).

Go n-éiri an bothair libh :)

moblogs

Despite a massive universal trend towards technological convergence, it seems blogger want you to have a separate blog for mobile posts. I find this baffling, especially since their existing interfaces let me create and publish this post from my phone...

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30042005(011)
Originally uploaded by davemurphy.

I meant to do a discovery channel style cultural discursion on Vappu, or Labour Day, May 1st. It's a big event here, and when I say big, I mean Vappu eve is comparable to St Patricks day in Ireland, and like St Patricks day in Ireland, everyone comes to the capitol to get drunk and go crazy (see pic). Ethanol fueled Finns are... I'm tempted to say something dramatic, but they're a lot like loud Irish people.

At 6pm on the eve, the students of Helsinki (and thanks to liberal student funding, there are a lot of students in Helsinki) gather in Esplanadi, wash one of the statues, adorn it with a student cap, and give it a drink, commencing the festivities (and the Summer, depending on who you ask). Things proceed in a simple manner: everyone gets pissed. The following day at 1pm many many people descend on another park in Kaivopuisto, and have a nice picnic; sparkling wine is traditional.

While I can tell you all this, I can't say I saw any of it. This irks me, I normally strive to witness. I missed the Saturday stuff because I was buying booze for a party at my place (it was the day after Alex's birthday, and a couple of days before mine), and the Sunday stuff because I was asleep. Shameful.