Showing posts with label photo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photo. Show all posts

11.9.14

A mountain dweller in the Asian valleys

What a summer! A few months back I mentioned that I was taking some new responsibilities at work, and that despite that extended mission, I intended to write more often on that blog about my encounters, my surprises, etc. But fact is that in the last two months, I have been on the road, living these cultural differences without having the opportunity to jot down a few thoughts. 8 countries in two months… From public speaking at the National Library in Vienna to listening to a private concert of Lady Gaga in the Centennial Olympic Park of Atlanta during a business conference, from hugging koalas in Australia to surviving taxi rides in Taipei… I have experienced a few things worth capturing, especially in the Asia Pacific region most recently.


Asia Pacific is a conglomerate of diverse countries, cultures, people, nations, etc. And there are many ways to go around. Long ago I lived in Singapore where I was working in a regional capacity which allowed me to grasps some of the complexity and nuances required to deal with the inhabitants of the region. I also toured a few countries from the South East Asian peninsula and around (Burma, Thailand, Malaysia, Honk Kong or Macao and later Japan), which was a favourable ground to get ready for the cultural disparities to be encountered this time around. For this trip, I had decided to move North, which also meant moving from West to East from a cultural perspective. At least that was the assumption when embarking.

East meets far West?

Many tourists try to find commonalities between what they discover and what they experienced in the past. Between the known and the unknown. At a time when Scotland is discussing its independence from the United Kingdom, it was interesting to look at Australia with the eyes of a London-based person. As such, I could not refrain from wondering if this big English-speaking country would nowadays be more similar to the UK, or to let's say to the US. The history would lead us to think towards the earlier, but the economic neo-colonialism would most likely tilt the scale the other way. Originally, I was convinced that the famous Aussie bum would be sat between two chairs, as the French say, but I was to be proven wrong. Australia is not where East meets Far West.

Looking at a GPS, you could feel like driving across British counties... Most of the Australian cities are trademark infringements, tributes from the colons to their origins. As such you drive around many glorious (well rarely so) cities of good old England. Fulham, Ipswich, Chiswick... And you also drive through these towns on the left side of the road, which is right side for Brits and other folks who did not fall under Napoleon's influence back then. On the other hand, the scale of things are more American-like. Bigger than life some would say. For instance, as far as I recall, I had never seen a road sign pointing me in a direction with a 4-digit distance. And that was a "close-by" destination by the local standards! Cars too are disproportionately big, making any European SUV feels like a Fiat 500 on the local highways and that is understandable when you consider the size of the road kills they have to face: Wallabies or Wombats are "slightly" more sizable obstacle than the average field mouse.

Everything is bigger or greater here, but not in the same self-proclaiming way that their American cousins do. They may have a Great Barrier Reef, but no sign of superlatives here and let's face it this reef is totally Great. So it deserves its attribute. But otherwise no Biggest, Largest, Greatest, Awesomest... This country has inherited from its former dominion a sense of restraint. Australia may have Dollars, cowboys, ranches, great outdoors, surfers, skyscrapers, etc. but it retained a tuned down attitude. To its advantage. It also has tea, cricket and rugby but it retained its laidback attitude. To its advantage again. In essence Australia is a mix of many influences, stirred and blended in a melting pot that pays tribute to its relatively new modern history of immigrations. And frankly, when I saw the following sign in a supermarket, I could not avoid but thinking that it could be a good idea:


Obedience and influences

But I had to move North, going deeper in the Asian culture. Singapore, Taipei and then Shanghai were on the agenda.

To conclude on foreign influences, let me kill another myth. My knowledge about China is patchy - at best. To my excuse, this may be the Empire of the Middle, but it truly is peripheral to our western educational curriculum... Just look at a European or American world map: it is hard to say that China is front and centre. So when I arrived in Taipei, I assumed that the relatively recent Taiwanese secession under Chang Kai-Shek would imply a strong, reminiscent influence of Mainland China from a linguistic, cultural and economical stand points. But as I walked the streets of the capital, it felt strangely familiar. I had never been to Taiwan, let alone China, and I could not put my finger on it until I exchanged with my local colleagues. Taiwan is not looking to the East for inspiration. Its influences lays further west: Japan. Probably inherited from the former Japanese occupation, but also by the desire to cut bridges with their immediate cousins, Taipei shows many signs of Japanese influence. Anime, Manga, Sushi bars, shiatsu massage and other Mos Burgers... are just a few hints at my shared interest for Japan with this nation. Japan happens to also be the #1 travel destination for locals.


Alien appeal

I guess we all find in the unknown an exotic appeal and get drawn to it. Actually even the local vermin may look pretty exciting to the new comers. For example, I could not refrain myself from taking pictures of the Cockatoo who landed on my balcony, before realising there were dozens of them rampaging the resort we were staying at. In Australian cities, kiwis can be seen as the local pigeons and consequently do not catch the eye of anyone else but the tourists. I guess they are like the London squirrels, the Venice pigeons, the Parisian mimes or the Dutch on the French Riviera... An attractions that the visitors are happy to benefit from briefly, but that they also keen to rapidly forget.

But let's face it, every country has its specialities, good or bad. As a foodie I explored there culinary portfolios and was lucky to be truly treated by my friends with great local food experiences. From the Taiwanese bubble tea to the bush-style dampers, from the Singaporean Ice Kacang to the Chinese dumplings, from the more sophisticated Kumqwat crème brulee to the somewhat puzzling sweet dried meats, jelly fishes or Black Pepper Crabs... I have been indulging every bit of the way the delicacies of this region. A time I felt more like a Gulp Trotter:


Marche a l'Ombre

There are then these little adjustments that you need to make.

As a sun-deprived person from London, this tour between the equator and the tropics was a blessing. The opportunity to recharge my Vitamin D batteries which have been running low for... let's face it 8 good years. But I suppose that when you are living there, the sun is more a foe than a friend. The sun is there merciless. It is scorching hot, and for people who enjoy pale skins, you may need serious protection if you do not want to look like an Italian vanilla/strawberry gelato. As a matter of fact, French singer, Renaud, had a hit in the 80s with a slang-loaded song entitled Marche A L'Ombre whose lyrics seem after reflection pretty topical:
In French
...and in English (personal translation)
Et j' lui ai dit
" Toi tu m' fous les glandes
Pis t'as rien à foutre dans mon monde
Arrache toi d' là t'es pas d' ma bande
Casse toi tu pues
Et marche à l'ombre
And I told him
You, you piss me off
You have nothing to do in my world
Bugger off you don't belong
Go away
And walk in the shade

Well, as a Kwai Lo (white devil), as the Honk-Konguese call the Westerners, you need to adjust your walking patterns. You shouldn't stop at the very last inch of the pavement, ready to cross when the signal turns green... You need to stop at the very last inch of the last shadow, ready to cross when the signal turns green! That nuance allows you to look less awkward when you are left by yourself, with your co-workers sympathetically smiling at you, sweating in the heat, waiting for that a man icon as red as you to dress up in a fresh, green outfit.

And more...

And finally there are other local "experiences"...  Some of which you may want to forget, or you may need to talk to someone to get over it. For instance taking a Taiwanese cab and grasping the full meaning of the "danger of multitasking". My taxi driver was indeed, in his obvious order of preference, but simultaneously: chewing a betle nut and rightfully spitting its brownish saliva in an over-used, stained paper cup; entertaining several conversations on WeChat, the local emoticon-based instant messaging phone application; watching a Chinese Opera on his embarked DVD player; and, oh yes, driving me to my hotel during the rush hour with hundreds of scooters zigging when we were zagging on the sound of the opera tunes... I have not been so frightened in a cab since a New Yorker of Italian lineage boasted his vague origins and considered the safety lane between Manhattan and Newark as the reproduction of private Monza circuit.

But what I will continue to value the most are these conversations, these insightful encounters with locals who give you the keys to a slightly better understanding their culture:
  • an Australia-based war veteran from Scotland returning home after 40 years to vote in the referendum;
  • two retired ladies sharing their Proust's Madeleine when pouring golden syrup on their grilled damper bread in the middle of a bush tour;
  • the Singaporean taxi driver who sung a country song before starting a yodelling demo;
  • these university friends we left in Singapore 15 years ago and find unchanged as if we left them the day before (except maybe the additional kids running around);
  • these colleagues and their upmost generosity who made me feel not only welcome but blessed... To all of you thank you.
I have taken many pictures of these trips, and you will be able to see some on my Flickr or Instagram streams. But these encounters are truly the highlight of my summer... Maybe because my capillary state did not allow me to fully appreciate this, sadly:

To read further:

18.5.14

A new chapter

Back to the <blank> page

I have been quiet on this blog lately. I confess. But I also have some valid excuses such as the arrival of my second son in February, the acceptance of the older one to his preferred school, some family holidays here and there... And more recently a change of job. I certainly feel like I am currently turning a page, and moving to a next chapter.

Strangely, in the past, I took that expression quite literally, and started to write. This blog when I arrived in London. A short story when I became a dad. So now that I am about to enter a new stage in my adult life, I was wondering where this idiom would take me. For now, I am not quite sure of the answer, but at least the reflection brought me back to this blog, and I hope that in spite of the professional activities and other side effects, I will find the time to regularly come back to this vessel and to fill it with some goodness: cultural differences, random and puzzling experiences, insights from London or other valleys, photos of this, of that...

On my bedside table

Whilst I may not have found the inspiration to write yet, I have certainly resurrected the taste to read. Here is a sample of the books that are currently laid on my bedside table, and I thought they were a great summary of where I was today:

Inspiration.

I have always been a fan of Jules Verne and have always been amazed by how this story teller was in fact a fortune teller. Some of the anticipation books he wrote were not only great narratives, but also a sneak peek at what would soon be a reality. "Around the World in Eighty Days" has had a special place in my childhood, and it is not totally alien to my thirst for discovering new cultures. I had never actually read the book, but been immersed in its universe through a Japanese anime dated 1972 which I am discovering today was pretty accurate an adaptation despite its anthropomorphisms of various animals. The reason I was seduced by this book when I saw it on its shelf was of course heavily connected to this childhood memory, but also by the judicious reference to my new job. I have been indeed promoted to Head of International Marketing and have therefore a new expanded geographical remit to LATAM and APAC. With a team now spanning from Sao Paulo to Taipei, from Sydney to Munich or London, I will certainly have to endorse both Phileas Fogg and Passepartout's roles. The phlegmatic and time-controlling freak on the one hand, the curious and adventurous on the other hand. My personal ambition being to work with my head, my hands and more importantly my heart, to constantly learn new ways to fulfil my and others’ full potential, I am truly excited by this new opportunity.

Expiration.

This leads me to my next book Chris Anderson's The Longer Tail. Today again, like very often, I am asked what my job is. At times, I feel I am like Barney Stinson in How I Met Your Mother, or more likely Chandler Bing in Friends... The one whom nobody knows what he does for a living. So lets clarify that for good: my role consists in explaining to small and large businesses the benefits of promoting their offering in the search results provided by Microsoft search engine, Bing.

I personally find the whole world of search engines fascinating. They are at the forefront of the technology with Artificial Intelligence, connected devices, Virtual learning machines, big data... But more importantly, search engines are a data base of intents, as John Battelle once coined it, and this is the reason why the Curator of the TED conference's book is on next to my pillow. It indeed democratised the concept of the long tail and its application to commerce, whereby there is an uneven distribution of intents with a high volume of asks for a small number of topics, and then a high number of topics where the asks are small to marginal. So when some businesses fight for the most demanded and therefore disputed products from the head of the diplodocus, some like Amazon built their success by focusing on the dispersed yet unmet needs of the tail. The same dynamics apply to search... and it is fascinating to consider what the majority thinks (or search for), but also to explore the depth of thoughts that human beings are capable of. This is a passion that I try to share and expose in my public speaking or classes.

Expiation.

I have indeed been giving some lectures in different universities in the past few years, teaching aspiring marketers on the opportunities, challenges and best practices of online advertising. It is always an honour to be able to share some of your learnings and maybe to inspire a few. The next book, the Manifesto of the Communist Party, is a direct consequence of my return to the school benches. Inspired by all this academic brain juice I once opened one of these numerous boxes in which you store your manuals and other class notes in a vain hope that one day you will need them. Under the heavy layer of dust was a few books that the Teenager Cedric planned to read to be better informed, cooler, smarter, hairier...

Marx and Engels' foundational essay was amongst them, and I decided to save their beards from the moths. I have since dived into this classic only to realise how modern it was. Bar a few obsolete or outdated terms, the concepts and associated utopia remain so current that it is inspiring. I am personally disheartened with politics as the content of programmes have lost their elevations. There is no more philosophical stance in the choices you make, you now elect the less worst within a single school of thought which has imposed itself as the norm: liberalism and individualism. Nowadays, politicians do not debate, they denigrate. Parties are just variances of the same flavour. I find this pauperisation of the public thinking damageable. After all, politics and search engines have that in common, it is not good for anyone to have a single view as it is necessarily partial, in all the sense of the terms.

Recognition.

The last book is a gift from a dear friend of mine... And I am not sure what to find in this dairy book. But as a French who is about to be even more immersed in different cultures, figuring out where to put my hand on some cheese, literally or rhetorically, is certainly an asset. I look forward to devouring these pages...

And I want to seize this opportunity to thank my friends and my cherished ones for their past, current and future support. I love them. I love you. And I do not say it enough, so let me write it down. That may be the introduction of my above-mentioned new chapter...
"You are a man of heart!"
"Sometimes", replied Phileas Fogg quietly, "when I have the time."
Jules Verne (1828-1905)

7.11.13

Metro stations in the viewfinder

Mind the cultural gap

The Parisian metro, the local tube, is a constant source of inspirations. For poets, singers and yes... photographers. During the 90s, French photographer Janol Apin walked the underground tunnels to find funny ways to put the station in image.


Visual puns, captured in black and white, literally translate the name of  Metro stations. Maison Blanche (White House) is guarded by a couple of security agents; Charles De Gaulle features the eponymous silhouette of the French General; Duroc is populated with AC/DC fans, etc. Some of the jokes might be lost to the non-French speakers, but it is worth a browse.

Discover the full portfolio here,

3.8.13

The Saturday Shot #30: alpine wisdom

A piece of alpine wisdom captured during a recent trip to two-time Olympic city of Lake Placid... A nice way to put things into perspective ahead of the upcoming back-to-school rush.

31.5.13

The top of the world at your finger tips


Mt Rainier on May 4th, culminating point in mainland USA

Alpine inspiration.

I am not sure why this year, more than any previous years, my alpine origins have crawled back in the front of my aspirations with a constant call back to the mountains.

This has led me to ski for over 28 days this season, including an awesome new experience: shredding snow on May 4th before enjoying an ice cream the same day both feet in the ocean (more charms to the already reported Seattle backcountry). But as expected, this nostalgia has also materialised in a flurry of blog posts gravitating around the alpine theme, whether that was paragliding over an avalanche, photographing the Mt Blanc in high resolution, or poetry whilst walking on a rope tied between two peaks...

Toping my world

So to continue on that path, and mark like many others the celebration of the 60th anniversary of the Everest conquest by the New Zealander Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay, a Nepali sherpa climber from India, I would like to share a brilliant digital experience that uses the Himalaya as a background for some impressive innovations.

To help emphasize the beauty of the region and put into perspective the ascent to the summit, the filmmaker and explorer David Breashears has teamed up with Microsoft to build an interactive examination of the mountain and the Greater Himalaya region.

Everest: Rivers of Ice is a new Web site open to the public on Tuesday night built in HTML5 and CSS3 for touch screens. Created by the Internet Explorer 10 team, Microsoft Research, and PixelLabs, a small HTML5 creative shop, it takes you on an immersive, gigapixel-rich adventure from landing at Lukla's Hillary Tenzing Airport to panoramic, sweeping views far above Everest Base Camp:


A click to the peak

Although it was built for touch, and optimised for IE10, you can still enjoy it with a mouse and other web browsers. And here are some examples of what can be done in that digital mountain chain... As you zoom in Namche Bazar reveals a video of the market. Zoom in on Everest Base Camp and a 4 billion pixel photo materialises in front of you, in full screen mode. You can also see how this giant is vulnerable: a slider enables you to compare the Khumbu Glacier between 1952, a year before Hillary's successful ascent, and 2007. In sixty years, the glacier has significantly shrunk back...

Breashears has contributed with numerous high-resolution photos and videos to both educate and advocate. It may not be explicitly stated, but there's a clear demonstration throughout the site of how climate change has impacted the glaciers in recent years. And you can thus donate to GlacierWorks, Breashears' non-profit that works to raise awareness of how the shrinking glaciers adversely affects the water supply for much of Asia.

28.4.13

Big mountains through a viewfinder

I have already mentioned Sebastien Montaz and his picturesque work on this blog. This mountain guy has just invested time in a massive photo shoot to create a giant 3.15 Gigapixel picture by stitching 297 high resolution photos together. This picture includes every peak from the Argentière glacier near Chamonix... You can start navigating that picture below, but clicking through this link will allow you to be pin-pointed to a few "details" a la Where is Wally? A pair of skiers here, a climber there... Explore!

19.1.13

The Saturday Shot #29: winter lock-down

There was no real choice this weekend but to choose a snowy reference as my Saturday Shot. The UK is under a snowstorm that started on Friday and has lasted so far the whole weekend, disrupting the whole public transportation system, stranding flights... No record yet of a 12-hour trip in Eurostar due to snow flakes on the rails so far, but I would not be surprised that such an announcement will soon hit the news. After all, although this country is clearly used to the tempered climate which by definition includes warm summers and cold winters, it seems that every snow fall is a revelation and a surprise to the transport authorities. As if it was totally uncommon to see snow in winter. I mean, we do not leave in Bamako for cryst(al) sake!

As you can tell, I am disappointed by that weather, which may be surprising for the regular reader of these lines, as a few weeks back I declared my love for the winter wonders... In fact what really upsets me is not the snowfall itself, it is the irony of the situation. I am stuck in the UK, with a plane grounded due to "adverse weather" as British Airways puts it... whilst it should have flown me to Switzerland for a weekend of ski indulgence! Comical, ironic... Frustrating!

Anyway, there is a silver lining to any cloud, no matter how dark and snowy. Mine was the fabulous time I was able to spend with my little one making snowmen, snowball fights, etc. in white London parks. A decent compensation. I will thus leave you with a nice quote on love and snow from Canadian poet Margaret Atwood, and some pictures about the greatness of that weather from my portfolio...
"The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love." Margaret Atwood (1939-)
And some frozen shots:

4.1.13

Olympic enlightenment for 2013

It is that time of the year when one looks forward with good resolutions, and backward with wisdom, a sense of fulfilment, or possibly a tad of shame because that same person realises that this year's resolutions looks a little bit too similar to last year's... When I personally look back at 2012, two events stand out: my son's first badge of honour as a 2-year old skier (he just grabbed a couple more by the way), and the Olympics in London.

I will not dwell on the earlier as paternal pride is self-explanatory, let alone for a mountain dweller... But I wanted to come backs on the Olympics, from a different angle than the one I originally adopted at their completion. This time around I want to look at two of their most iconic symbols: the rings and the flame.

Circles of excellence.

If the Olympic flag with its interlocked rings is a universal iconography, I was amazed that many ignore its symbol. Five rings, five colours, represent the five continents interwoven in unison and parity. Oceania is obviously blue, the old industrial Europe was granted the coal-like black, the Americas were attributed the red, sun-drenched Africa is yellow and Asia green.

Stretching that basic concept, graphic designer Gustavo Sousa worked from statistical data to produce a series of infographics that followed the same legend. It was soon to be realised that Baron de Coubertin's idea of five egalitarian continents is not viable outside the sport fields.

For instance:
Source: Fubiz, more of these infographics here

Unity in a melting pot.

The Olympic flame travels from Greece and comes to light up a cauldron in a spectacular manner and to burn through the fortnight as a testament of the passion that unites the participants. People usually recall the torch or potentially how it was lit. In Barcelona for instance, an archer shot an arrow to ignite the furnace. In Grenoble, back in 1968, a microphone was stuck on the chest of the Olympian who ran up an endless flight of stairs with the torch in hand, letting everyone hear his heartbeat pounding at a tremendous pace... But who actually remembers the cauldron. No one. Once the games are over cities are left with a metal disc that is prone to catch the rain and rust... But not London's.

Thomas Heatherwick was given a simple mandate: make it static... He ignored the brief and went back to the symbol to create a memorable cauldron that actually meant something. 204 copper petals, one for each competing nation, were gathered along the opening ceremony on long pipes before being lit up, and at the climax of the night, each individual flame converged to create a single, united fire.
image source: LOCOG

I like that design because it is memorable, beautiful and more importantly meaningful. The medium becomes the message...

With that last thought on people differences and the ability to bring them together in unison, I very much look forward to 2013 for further enlightenment. Happy new year to you, reader of these lines. 

12.12.12

Continent hoping

Around the globe.

I have shared already the adventures around the globe of Seattle-originated jigger Matt. He seems to have a converted some followers to the why-travel-like-everyone-with-a-cheap-camera-around-your-neck-when-you-can-do-more-stupid-things philosophy. Let me indeed introduce you to another fantasist traveller, Sam, who has decided to go continent hoping... Literally.
 


 
Around me, myself and I.

During a 107-day summer tour, he was able to backpack and backflip around the world. That body-spinning arguably led him to reflect about himself, as if going around the world, around his own centre of gravity allowed him to give a new spin to his life...

After all, French poet Joachim du Bellay (1522-1560) had it nailed down in the 16th century when he came up with the prose: "Happy the man who, like Ulysses, has made a fine voyage, or has won the Golden Fleece, and then returns, experienced and knowledgeable, to spend the rest of his life among his family!".

So what to think about Sam? Arguably one need a goal in life, whatever it is. He found his path, a gimmick, and turned it into a video. It is nicely edited, exotic at times, and it makes your own head spin, not only because of the somersaults but also because of the tons of memories his wanderings recall in the mind of other travellers (like me for instance). Yet, as eluded to in the introduction this is just another variation of what was a brilliant idea by Matt Harding and his Where the hell is Matt? franchise. So nice, but just nice.


To read further:

8.12.12

The Saturday Shot #28: at my finger tips

Tick, tock, tick, tock... Captain Hook may be scared of that repetitive sound, but I am personally delighted. Each iteration is another second that gets us closer to my annual highlight. Although a couple years back I could have cursed that frozen water which stranded me twice in twelve months in France and the US, the white powder has since regained its place in my heart. I was in Seattle last week for what was the second anniversary of my crazy flight back home, my heart skipped a beat when I heard of snowfalls in Europe. An ambiguous mixture of anxiety and anticipation. But since the UK was spared for now, the earlier gave easily way to the positivity.

However Some say that positivism is always a tiny step away from lunacy. I think that this video speak for it. Best watch in full screen mode...



So let's conclude this weekly post with a philosophical touch. As a way to reassure myself that my fixation on snow flakes is nothing but enlightenment:

"The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself." Lao Tzu (6th Century BC)

17.11.12

The Saturday Shot #27: let it fall.

Autumnal chair
It is this time of the year yet again! If autumn is usually synonymous of doom, gloom, spleen... For me it is an Ideal. Autumn first of all is a brilliant subject for photography. I loved walking the Japanese back-country a few years ago to capture its reddening. I like clicking around the parks in Paris or elsewhere to snap as the ground blends with the remainder of the canopy. More recently I have started enjoying sharing with my little one the exhilarating feeling to kick dead leaves around (a shared pleasure I can testify).

But one more reason for enjoying fall as our friends from the other side of the Atlantic refer to it... is that it precedes Winter! This year, more than ever, I have been looking forward to the first snow flake. Dreams of deep snow-covered slopes have been haunting me. Ski magazines have materialised on my bed-side table. Internet session history have logged more and more time on sites like this one or this one... I have always been impatient. This year will not be an exception.

And to conclude with another appropriate quote from my home country:

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower".  Albert Camus (1913-1960)

22.9.12

The Saturday shot #26: an American Bear

This week, I wanted to share a picture shot during my recent holidays in the US, whilst visiting a Build-a-Bear outlet. I was indeed surprised by the cultural insight that this child shop could give on the American culture. After all, myths and beliefs are fostered in our early age, some say even before. So what struck me was that if, in swinging London your little ones can choose to dress up their cuddly toys in mini Mel C or a furry Sid Vicious, in the US the choice offered gravitated around Marines, Troopers and GIs gears. No wonder the belliquous mindset of the nation may be in, if childhood models are defined by military forces... Don't get me wrong I am not challenging that soldiers can be heroes, but I would always think of armed intervention as a necessary evil rather than a good thing. This beliefs again may come from my own culture and referential scheme. This reminds me indeed of this speech by former French Prime minister Dominique de Villepin back in February 2003 when addressing the UN security council on France's position with regards to initiating a war in Iraq:
This message comes to you today from an old country, France, from a continent like mine, Europe, that has known wars, occupation and barbarity. A country that does not forget and knows everything it owes to the freedom-fighters who came from America and elsewhere. And yet has never ceased to stand upright in the face of history and before mankind. Faithful to its values, it wishes resolutely to act with all the members of the international community. It believes in our ability to build together a better world.

19.9.12

A mountain dweller in the Washington valleys


A couple years back I had the opportunity to discover Seattle on business, and have since returned quite few times in that city. But I knew there was more to the North-Western region than the SeaTac airport and taxis commuting between my hotel and the company's offices. So this summer, I decided to dwell a little longer than usual in the Washington state, and to discover the Ocean surrounding the liberal harbour of Seattle. If I had been amused by some traits of the Space Needle's home (the passion for salmon, the doubtful kindness, the SUV contradictions, etc.), the Evergreen State brought its lot of interesting cultural encounters...

Size definitely matters.

Yes, let's start with the blatantly obvious. It is so overused a cliche to describe the US as the country of superlatives. Everything is the "world best...", "world #1...", etc. That is at times laughable but one thing you cannot deny is of course that everything is big. Feet, portions, roads, people, drinks, cars... The caravans are so huge that it is not uncommon to see one of these trailers actually pulling a 4x4. You read me right, Dutch reader of these lines, on the other side of the pond, mobile homes are towing the car, and not the smallest! That is probably the so-call American Dream for you, our European summer migrators who every summer cross the French territory, looking for a sunburn...

As said, everything is oversized. Even roadkills are! No flatten hedgehog or mouse on the tarmac of Washington roads. The smallest animal I have seen on the side of the road was a deer... A deer! I mean how can you even run over such a beast? Probably not with a Renault Twingo. But that is probably more understandable when you put yourself in the shoes, or behind the wheels I shall say, of one of the locals... Were you driving one of these giant pick-ups that dwarfs the most ostentatious SUV in Chelsea, it would be hard for you too to see what happens below 2 meters from the ground. They cannot do things small, I tell you... So beware when you cross the road!

Into the "wild".

During our trip, we spend some time touring the stunning Olympic Peninsula. After the great British summer we had in London, we had to extend the pleasure... However the name of this region is not connected to athletic performances, but to the presence of an eponymous Mount Olympus in the middle of its national park. That Park is the host of a rainforest, several Indian reserves, magnificent lakes and equally surprisingly deserted beaches. No wonder this region is inspiring authors of all styles.

Hurricane Ridge for instance is coming straight out of a Disney movie. After a good hour drive uphill amongst enormous trees on a beautiful road, you finally arrive at a pass from which start walks and other alpine wanderings... But rapidly you are welcome by the local "wildlife", with elks crossing your way, giant black grouse singing whilst chipmunks drum the beat... You think I overdo it? Not at all. It was so surreal that we were expecting any minute to see a props man jumping out of a bush and shouting "You've been pranked!".


On the other hand, when you walk along the wild beaches of the western side of the peninsula, you feel you have landed in another type of literature. An eery one. Snow White has bitten the apple and the evil witch is enjoying her supremacy by the sea. The rugged landscapes, bathed in creepy fog and cluttered by rotting log trees were not without reminding me Tolkien's Mordor. I was once pretty sure I saw the shaddow of a troll in the woods, unless that was a pupil walking back from school... That is also possible since, as I eluded to it earlier, the locals are not the smallest beings either. Anyway the eery views of that area inspired  Stephenie Meyer for her bloody trilogy.

Stretching to greatness?

This leads me to my third literature reference... The town where vampires and werewolves supposedly fall in love with girls a lot younger than them (a few centuries younger... Is that legal or should we report this idyll?), Forks proved that the principles outlined by Philip Kotler in his marketing bible have been well assimilated. "Brand stretching" is about using an established brand name in order to introduce unrelated products. Well, the following pictures speak for themselves (click for full screen view):
Arguably that is a bit too much, but had you lived in that same tiny little village before the books' release and seen an influx of +600% in tourists, you too would have probably jumped on the bandwagon and taken these novels as a blessing. Because frankly outside the blockbuster reference, Forks really epitomises the concept of "uninterestingness". The problem, however, is that once you embrace that gorry kitsch, you cannot avoid but seeing vampires everywhere, let alone in medical notifications or native artefact's (is that me or that totem has got pretty sharp teeth???):


Depressive back country?

I seem to be a bit harsh with Forks, but do not let that anomaly derail my overall take on that beautiful region well-managed by the Quileult tribe. We loved hanging around at La Push and watch the sun set on the sacred rocks. That was even a poetic conclusion to that part of our trip, because we then headed South to Oregon and had to drove through less enthusiastic neighbourhoods. If the wild beaches were eluding to a literary devastation, further down it is a lot more literal. Aberdeen in front of all. Besides a river and the "Highland Golf Club" at its outskirt, that town has little to compare with its charming Scottish cousin. The rest is indeed pretty much despair, ruins, closed-down shops... This was home for Kurt Cobain, and frankly you may assume that it was in itself a source of inspiration for the grunge movement!
Love at first sight
The logging industry which pulled the regional economy for decades is slowing down nowadays. Smaller towns are drained out in favour of Seattle or Portland, the two urban poles in that part of the country. Although often compared as eternal enemies, the two cities have got a lot in common. As I was saying in introduction, they are liberal harbours in the middle of what is often depicted as the western redneck America. If Canadian proudly sew their flag on their backpack, Seattleites and Portlanders state their beliefs directly on their skin. I am impressed by the amount of ink people carry on their skin around there. Could that be to ensure that people do not see the original colour of their neck?


Anyway... I really enjoyed discovering that region which surprised me in many ways. I was promised rainfall and greeneries. If we indeed saw as much emeralds as last year, not a single drop of rain came to refresh the scenery, which clearly contrasts with our drenched Irish holidays. I liked the possibility to sneak away from the urban jungle and to dive into the rainforest. In light of my origins, I also loved hikking in Mount Rainier, its reflective lakes and its blossoming meadows. I am pretty sure at this stage that with such a description of these alpine surroundings you are expecting blonde Maria coming out of the evergreen woods and complement my list of highlights with a "...Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens; Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens; Brown paper packages tied up with strings; These are a few of my favorite things...", but I don't care. No matter how unlikely Seattle may sound as a summer holiday destination, it is now in my list of recommendations... As long as you can walk around on 2-meter stilt, of course!


To read further:
And some more pictures of that trip:

18.8.12

The Saturday Shot #25: carrying on, and on, and on...

London 2012 - Keep calm and carry on
For this week Saturday Shot, I had to go back one more time to these unique scenes caught during the London 2012 Olympics. After all, the games were the reasons why I have been unable to fulfil my weekly social contributions.

I had brilliant times about which I wrote on this other blog (in French). And frankly speaking I wished that fortnight would carry on for a bit longer. Not only for the sporting performances, as with the Euro, Wimbledon, Le Tour de France, we have been blessed this summer... No, I simply think that during these two weeks, London and the rest of the world has been smilling a bit more than usual.

Since I always accompany my saturday pictures with a quote, I had to refer to the genitor of the modern Olympics:

"May joy and good fellowship reign, and in this manner, may the Olympic Torch pursue its way through ages, increasing friendly understanding among nations, for the good of a humanity always more enthusiastic, more courageous and more pure." Pierre de Coubertin (1863-1937)

13.8.12

Marseillaise

Anniversary.

This summer marked my sixth year on the British soil. An anniversary which also means that I have now lived longer in the British capital than in Paris for instance. During that time I got accustomed to the local rhythm, the indigenous habits, the cultural disparities... I have blended in. This is quite an ambivalent feeling as Brits and French are traditionally referred to as what one could call frenemies, i.e. the worst friends and the best enemies. I wrote quite a few articles about this Entente Cordiale that unites both nations, but being right in the middle of it is an awkward situation.

Although I am not British, I feel sometimes so and this city is like home. So no wonder that during the Olympics I waved and cheered at team GB, that I carried a Union Jack in my backpack... I got lucky and could attend quite a few events in the end. The lottery granted us only some tickets for a men volleyball semi-final, but perseverance and tenacity (let alone networking and generous friends) opened a few more doors. At these events, we were there as French nationals, as Londoners, as sport supporters.

Moment of truth.

But at a time when nations drop their weapons and random quarrels to support their Olympian troops, you are supposed to choose sides. I felt like a child in the middle of a divorce case. I love both mummy and daddy. I value Churchill and De Gaulle. I want the goldfish and its bowl. I want weekdays and weekends... I wanted to support blue, white and red, no mater whether these colours are laid out in crosses or in tiers.

And I thought so. I thought that almost like a bi-national I had today both nations ingrained in my soul on parity. But it was not the case... It took me a minute to realise it. Well, two half-times of 30 minutes each and 1 minute to raise a flag an that was it. Goose bump, spinal shivers, a tear in the eye... But who would not when hearing this:

France retains its Olympic title by beating Sweden in handball final

La Marseillaise

France national anthem, La Marseillaise, was written and composed by Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle in 1792. The French National Convention adopted it as the Republic's anthem in 1795. The name of the song is due to first being sung on the streets by volunteers from Marseille but was soon adopted by the revolutionary armies which put an end to the French monarchy and dropped the seed of the Republic.
This song is a war song, a march that galvanise soldiers and unite them behind a cause... During the 1992 winter Olympic games in Albertville, a young, pure, white-dressed girl sung a capella this anthem in front of millions during the opening ceremony, and many only then realised how violent the lyrics could sound...
La Marseillaise (most commonly sung extract. Source: Wikipedia)


French lyricsEnglish translation
Allons enfants de la Patrie,Arise, children of the Fatherland,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé !The day of glory has arrived!
Contre nous de la tyrannie,Against us tyranny
L'étendard sanglant est levé, (bis)Raises its bloody banner (repeat)
Entendez-vous dans les campagnesDo you hear, in the countryside,
Mugir ces féroces soldats ?The roar of those ferocious soldiers?
Ils viennent jusque dans vos brasThey're coming right into your arms
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes !To cut the throats of your sons and women!
Aux armes, citoyens,To arms, citizens,
Formez vos bataillons,Form your battalions,
Marchons, marchons !Let's march, let's march!
Qu'un sang impurLet an impure blood
Abreuve nos sillons !Water our furrows!



This anthem sung in the handball arena, the box that rocks as the British journalists nicknamed it, swept any doubt that no matter happens and how long I will stay away from my homeland, at core I will remain French. An interesting realisation amidst athletic performances which contrasts a lot with some conversations I have had with US immigrants who had decided to embrace the US Constitution and rejected their origins by doing so. Unfathomable for me. Now.

Enjoy a selection of pictures from my Olympics: