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The next morning I awoke at 6 am, read a little more and studied my maps. Navigation systems, google maps and all that are quite fine, because you can never have all the maps you need, but it's like looking out of airplanes: You do not have the orientation, or the landmarks, you have no idea of the big picture and how it all fits together. One good look at the map and I understood where I had taken wrong turns, and why, and what to do instead. So, this morning, I managed to drive to work without being confused once. I still used the Navigation system and liked it, because the big picture won't get you to the right building, but I for the first time I was able to have some looks at the scenery.
Many of the buildings look a little lost, too little building with too little height in too much landscape. The small houses nearly disappearing into the woods and the hills in Sweden or Ireland do not do that, they tend to look snug and comfortable in their green and grey surroundings. Maybe it's the colour, this golden brown which I cannot compare to anything at home, and which makes even the average dull green of a meadow in Germany look inappropriate and over-coloured. It's a generous warm colour, like heather, and makes the land look even bigger than it is. Or maybe it looks that way because the land really is that big. It's quite pleasing to the eye, but makes the buildings seem lost, like kids out on their own. The industrial areas are not of a compact ugliness desiring to become a singularity, but also strewn over the amazing landscape like someone's belongings in an untidy room. The sky is bigger, and brighter, and I do not know how to name the clouds. One golden-brown-green mountain dominates the area. It's called Mount Diabolo, about 1200 m high, which is quite a lot considering how close to the sea we are. I'd like to go up there, but the Wikipedia entry on the place warns against tarantulas and black widows, especially in September and October. Eek!
Work was, well, work. My worries about dress code were, fortunately, mostly unfounded. People are dressed better than in my old office, but that doesn't mean much. Jeans and shirts are just fine. There's a small cafeteria where you can get lunch. The food looked OK, but I wasn't hungry (my metabolism is still set on "vacation"). The iced tea brand I fondly remembered from thirteen years ago had substituted sugar with high fructose corn syrup, a substance I plan to avoid, if possible. Sugar is going to be some kind of a problem, I feel, because I distrust these modern brews, and I hate the taste of artificial sweeteners. (I just read in Wikipedia that cats are the only mammals that do not care for sweets, because they have no receptors for that taste.)
Before returning to the hotel in the evening, I went grocery shopping. The best thing about grocery shopping in the US is that the aisles are actually large enough to maneuver a shopping cart in. Second best it, lots of new things to try out! The worst thing is all this "no fat" and "not-really sugar". Second worse it the prices. The groceries I paid 26 USD for would have cost 11 Euro at home. I guess I'm going to have dinner in the hotel often. Far more fun to spend the money on books!
( Fool Moon, by Jim Butcher, 2001 )
( The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, by Dorothy Sayers, 1928 )
Many of the buildings look a little lost, too little building with too little height in too much landscape. The small houses nearly disappearing into the woods and the hills in Sweden or Ireland do not do that, they tend to look snug and comfortable in their green and grey surroundings. Maybe it's the colour, this golden brown which I cannot compare to anything at home, and which makes even the average dull green of a meadow in Germany look inappropriate and over-coloured. It's a generous warm colour, like heather, and makes the land look even bigger than it is. Or maybe it looks that way because the land really is that big. It's quite pleasing to the eye, but makes the buildings seem lost, like kids out on their own. The industrial areas are not of a compact ugliness desiring to become a singularity, but also strewn over the amazing landscape like someone's belongings in an untidy room. The sky is bigger, and brighter, and I do not know how to name the clouds. One golden-brown-green mountain dominates the area. It's called Mount Diabolo, about 1200 m high, which is quite a lot considering how close to the sea we are. I'd like to go up there, but the Wikipedia entry on the place warns against tarantulas and black widows, especially in September and October. Eek!
Work was, well, work. My worries about dress code were, fortunately, mostly unfounded. People are dressed better than in my old office, but that doesn't mean much. Jeans and shirts are just fine. There's a small cafeteria where you can get lunch. The food looked OK, but I wasn't hungry (my metabolism is still set on "vacation"). The iced tea brand I fondly remembered from thirteen years ago had substituted sugar with high fructose corn syrup, a substance I plan to avoid, if possible. Sugar is going to be some kind of a problem, I feel, because I distrust these modern brews, and I hate the taste of artificial sweeteners. (I just read in Wikipedia that cats are the only mammals that do not care for sweets, because they have no receptors for that taste.)
Before returning to the hotel in the evening, I went grocery shopping. The best thing about grocery shopping in the US is that the aisles are actually large enough to maneuver a shopping cart in. Second best it, lots of new things to try out! The worst thing is all this "no fat" and "not-really sugar". Second worse it the prices. The groceries I paid 26 USD for would have cost 11 Euro at home. I guess I'm going to have dinner in the hotel often. Far more fun to spend the money on books!
( Fool Moon, by Jim Butcher, 2001 )
( The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, by Dorothy Sayers, 1928 )