At the airport on the way back from Spain, I saw a stack of these Torrons Vicens.
I remembered that I'd bought some once before, but didn't recall whether we liked them or they were disappointing. I WhatsApped my wife, and she had the same feeling: either we loved them or they were so-so. She suggested I went for it, so I did.
This being an airport duty-free shop, they were expensive — €16.25 — so I was hoping that at least one of us would like them. On the flight home, I was relieved to dredge up a memory that indicated we did indeed like them, and this proved to be true when we got home.
They're great! I don't know what they're made of (some kind of very soft nougat?) but they're amazingingly good if you like pistachio, better than the recent Dubai chocolate fad in my opinion. €16.25 for a single slab is pricey, though, and as the top two pistachio-producing countries in the world, the United States and Iran, are currently at war, I don't expect them to get any cheaper.
Still, at least it makes it easy for me to decide what present to buy my wife next time I find myself in Spain on a solo trip.
I've been retired for a year now (well, as of two days ago).
Apparently, a lot of people drop dead within the first year of their retirement, so I've done better than them. I have to say, though, it's not what I was expecting it would be like. Every day is a Saturday, but when I was at work I wasn't paid for Saturdays, and that remains the case. My pension covers my normal monthly expenses, and I was expecting to be able to spend some of my savings on foreign travel while my health still holds. Sadly, rather than the two or three ten-day trips abroad I'd envisaged taking, it's actually been zero. My wife won't be receiving a pension for another three years, so she doesn't want to spend any of our (well, her) savings. I hope I'm still in a fit state to travel by the time she feels financially secure enough to spend some of what she's saved. I have been to foreign climes as part of games-related activities, of course, but only for a couple of days at a time and not as a tourist. I spent my short Madrid stay sitting in an airport hotel, for example, rather than exploring Madrid.
Although I've given up university work, I still do consultancy. The pandemic put a stop to most of that work, though, and it never recovered; I only occasionally get a short gig now. I think I had two last year. It's interesting, but just a sideline; most of the time, there'll be an initial call in which I tell the people exactly how bad their ideas are, then they don't engage me to tell them how to fix them. Still, better that than getting involved in something I can see is heading for a cliff edge.
Much of my spare time has been spent, and continues to be spent, on writing the second edition of Designing Virtual Worlds. This is a real time sink. I usually spend two or three hours a day working on it, and progress is slow. Today, for example, I'll be continuing the sub-section on character skills that I began yesterday. I won't finish it until maybe Wednesday, because I need to ensure it's correct and reasonably complete. Citations suck up a lot more time than one might expect: a simple-looking (name, year) could take anything between 5 and 30 minutes to get right, depending on how obscure or old it is. Searching for scans of 1960s periodicals so I can find the page numbers of an article I want to reference is time-consuming. I shan't really feel that my retirement has begun until this book is done and dusted. It's been something of a weight around my neck for far too long.
I did cut back on the book-writing for the BAFTA games awards. Playing forty or more games to check them out was a welcome activity, and playing eleven of them more extensively was also worthwhile. That's not something I could have done quite as easily were I not retired.
In addition to this, we have days during which we look after our grandson. These are fun, but they're write-offs for other activities. I don't get to write much or read much on them. Still, I'd much rather have them than not, and am really looking forward to when the little chap can speak in sentences rather than just individual words. Gawd knows what he'll do to my home office when he can walk, though; there's rather a lot within reach that small hands shouldn't be holding.
There are two things I miss from when I was a lecturer: a salary, and conversations with intelligent students. There are many things I'm glad to be rid of, which I shan't enumerate in case it triggers traumatic memories.
Overall, then, so far I'm happy to have retired when I did; I just needed to be less optimistic about it when I did so.
I don't watch a lot of TV, because I play games instead. It might therefore be that the Disney Channel routinely shows movies like this; I wouldn't know.
The photo hasn't come out very well, but the title is Diario de una Ninfórmana. It's a Spanish film, and this was on a TV in a Spanish hotel, so maybe that was a factor.
My talk yesterday went well, at least from my perspective (I don't know about the audience's).
The "on tour" part of the name is because that's what they call the monthly El Tardeo talk when it's not being held in its usual location. This one was in the Vodafone offices, which are huge; must make quite a bit of money in Spain. The room I gave the talk in was high-tech and configurable, with glass false floors so you could see the cables running underneath (and also the ones taped to the surface because there was no outlet where they wanted them to emerge).
Before the talk, I was interviewed by a Spanish games news site; I have another interview today at 10:00, Annoyingly, the shuttle to the airport leaves at 9:45 and the next one is at 11:00. I'm hoping I'll be able to get through passport control as quickly as I did on the way in, otherwise I may miss my 13:10 flight.
After the talk (which wasn't really a talk so much as a series of intelligent questions from the interviewer and somewhat less intelligent replies from me) there was a small get-together so people could mingle and network. I spotted two separate groups of students that were only talking to themselves, so I went to them in turn and they asked me a bunch more questions. All of them were smart; one of the two things I miss about university life is speaking to smart students (the other is being paid a salary). Now isn't a great time to be trying to enter the games industry, but they were doing everything right except the networking. I can understand that, as I'm useless at it, too. Still, at least I spoke to them myself, so they got one contact out of it — even if I am in the wrong country!
I'm in Spain today, as the guest speaker at an event called El Tardeo on Tour. The format is like a fireside chat: I'll be asked a bunch of questions (which I've seen — they're much more intelligent than most of the ones I'm asked) about assorted games-related topics.
The venue is the Vodafone office near the airport. The event starts at 18:30. I'm therefore spending most of today sitting in an airport hotel.
I was expecting that getting here would be tiresome because of the new Schengen Entry/Exit system. Getting here was indeed tiresome, but not because of that. Here's the timeline:
The flight from Heathrow to Madrid was due to leave at 14:00. The departures board said "Gate shown 13:10".
At 13:14 it still said "Gate shown 13:10"".
At 13:15, it said "Please wait".
At 13:30, it told us to board at Gate 10. This was bad news, because Gate 10 is where all the buses leave from for the flights that don't have a walkway to them.
At Gate 10, there was a 5-minute wait while all the fast-track people got on the very same bus the rest of us were getting on.
It took another 10 minutes for us slow-track passengers to board,
The ride to the plane on the bus took 15 minutes. I was beginning to wonder if it was parked at Gatwick.
By the time we were all in our seats, the flight was already late for take-off. However, that didn't matter, because the tug they had attached to the aircraft to tow it to the runway had a mechanical fault and they needed to send for an engineer to fix it.
The flight eventually took off an hour and a quarter late. The pilot assured us he would make back some time on the way.
The flight landed an hour and a quarter late.
It took 20 minutes for me to disembark from row 18. The people in row 17 who had connecting flights to Palma were resigned to missing them. So were the people in row 20 who were going to Majorca. So were the people in about row 14 who were going on their holiday of a lifetime to Mexico.
It took me 10 minutes to get from the aircraft to passport control. It would have taken me a couple of minutes less if the pink lines that non-EU citizens had to follow hadn't led in a circle.
Passport control featured the EES machines. A good 30%, perhaps even 40%, were working. It took me two minutes to get through. I'm hoping it'll be this smooth on the way back tomorrow.
Passport control to the airport exit took 12 minutes, 5 of which was spent waiting for an inter-terminal train.
I knew there was a shuttle bus to the hotel, but that's all I knew. I wandered to the bus section, spotted a bus for another hotel, and waited for one for mine, hoping I didn't have to phone to request it.
14 minutes after leaving the airport, a hotel bus of the right kind appeared. Two other people boarded before me. Maybe they phoned to request it.
I sat on the bus for 5 minutes, then it set off.
20 minutes later, the bus arrived at the hotel. It would have been sooner, but it went to every other terminal before leaving the airport grounds. Shuttle buses do this a lot, so I wasn't surprised.
The woman on the desk in the hotel had laryngitis, but other than that the check-in went just fine.
Now to decide what to do for the rest of the day before the Tardeo. I'm thinking I might sleep.
I have stomach ache at the moment, which reminded me of this article from the Knaresborough Post, 17th December, 1887.
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INQUEST AT HARROGATE
On Monday afternoon, about half-past five, Florence Eva Bartle, aged 5 years, daughter of Frederick Bartle, pianist, of No. 1 Parliament Terrace, Harrogate, died somewhat suddenly. It appears that about four o'clock on the 11th inst., the child came home from church and complained of feeling sick, and Mrs. Bartle gave her some tea. The deceased remained in the house the whole of the evening, and went to bed about 8 p.m. Shortly before ten the mother sent to Coupland's for some Carminative Mixture, and administered it to the child twice, but it got no better. About four o'clock on Monday Dr. Lever was sent for, but on his arrival the child was dead.
On Tuesday afternoon, and inquest was held at the house of Mr. Clarkson, the Somerset Hotel, Harrogate, before Mr. J. H. Turner, deputy coroner. Mr. G. R. Parker was selected as the foreman of the jury. The first witness called was
Elisa Bartle, wife of Frederick Bartle, who deposed:- The deceased was five years of age, and was in good health up to half-past four on Sunday afternoon. She was at church in the afternoon; and when she came home she said that she felt sick. I thought it was a cold. I sent for some brandy because she was sick. She was sick several times. I thought she had eaten something that had disagreed with her. She began to have diarrhoea after the sickness; and she continued suffering from diarrhoea and sickness all the night. I sent for some Carminative; and that allayed both sickness and diarrhoea. I sent early in the morning for the mixture from Mr. Coupland's. I afterwards gave her another dose, and she said that it comforted her. About noon on Monday she appeared better, and seemed all right until about four. We saw her change shortly afterwards. I left to get some tea. She made a noise as if she was going into a fit. I did not leave her for more than ten minutes the whole of the time. I sent for four different doctors, and these were not in. I would have sent for a doctor earlier if I had thought it was serious. She died in a convulsion. I do not know that she ate anything that had not agreed with her. I had not given her anything. She took the same dinner as the rest of the family, and it did not disagree with any other member of the family. I took a dose of the same mixture on Monday night as I felt sick, and it did me good.
Annie Bell Henson, wife of Wm. Henson, joiner deposed: I was called into Mrs. Bartle's on Sunday to see the deceased. She was on her mother's knee, and died in my presence. The deceased received every care at her parents' hands.
Frederick Lever, of Harrogate, physicians and surgeon, deposed: I have never attended the deceased professionally. I was called in a little before five o'clock on Monday. The deceased was dead when I saw her. She was quite warm. There were no marks of physical violence on the body; and not injury to the mouth compatible with corrosive poisoning. It is my opinion the deceased died naturally. From the evidence given, and the appearance of the body, it is my opinion she died from syncope, caused by excessive diarrhoea and vomiting. There was no contraction of the pupils of the eyes of the deceased.
William Henry Tyas, of Montpelier Parade, assistant to Mr. Coupland, deposed: I supplied the bottle of mixture produced. It is Carminative Mixture, and is used for soothing children when suffering from divers complaints. I do not know what there is in it. It is made up at the principal shop. It is made from the late Dr. Short's recipe. We sell from the same bottle regularly, and I never heard of it doing any harm.
The jury then returned a verdict that the deceased died naturally from syncope, in accordance with the medical evidence. The jury afterwards expressed their sympathy with the parents in their bereavement; the Coroner adding that he felt sure they would have sent for medical aid sooner if they had thought it was of so serious a nature.
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Interestingly, my grandfather's grandfather, Frederick Bartle's youngest daughter, Eva, fell ill on 11th December and died the next day. On the 9th December, Frederick himself had been subject to a court administration order for being in debt. Two body blows in close succession must have been tough.
No, I don't believe he killed Eva — he was a very popular figure and all his children were proud of him (even the reprobate who was my grandfather's father).
We went to Hillhouse Wood yesterday, to see the bluebells. This is the sort of thing you can do mid-week when you've retired.
We do this every year, but this time I took a video rather than just photos; this way, you get to hear the birds as well as see the bluebells.
There were hardly any people there, although half of them had dogs (invariably off the lead, despite the signs telling dog-owners to keep their dogs on leads).
Why no, I don't like dogs, but to be fair, they don't like me, either.
I often buy books second-hand, either because they're no longer in print or they're too expensive new. Sometimes, they contain notes written by previous owners.
I have to say, however, that this particular previous owner was rather more enthusiastic than most.
Maybe they had a stash of green highlighter pens to use up or something.
