Arctic trip IV: Tromsø

Monday began for me on the board of MS Lofoten, one of the Hurtigruten fleet. I already mentioned that without an internet connection, the ships are of rather marginal interest, since the available activities are mostly a subset of

  • sleeping,
  • eating (awfully expensive – 130 NOK for a breakfast… thank God I had some apples in my backpack),
  • drinking tea and coffee (at least these are free),
  • taking pictures of the landscape,
  • reading (powered by that neat little e-reader from A.)

But if you have a mobile broadband internet connection and a not-too-tight schedule, the Hurtigruten line is a cool way of combining work, relaxation and travel.

So we arrived in Tromsø somewhere in the middle of Monday, checked in at the (completely empty) hotel and went exploring the city. The coastline looks very ugly, so, if you want to visit Tromsø, avoid it at any cost. It is mostly industry, firemen, industry and old wooden houses.

Tromsø consists of two parts: the island part and the fjord part. The main part of the city lies on the island, which feels like a big hill and is not a great fun to walk around (up, down, up, down, add slippery paths to that…), but offers some nice views from the top.

The two parts of Tromsø are connected with a 1.5km long bridge. The bridge is a fun walk, even more so if you (like me) have this cute little phobia that makes you avoid heights without proper separation between your body and the abyss, but the pictures you can make are worth it in any case.

We tried to see some aurorae, but on the first day, none were to see, and on the second day, the sky was completely overcast and the best shots just show a tiny part of the whole awesomeness that happened behind the cloud layer.

And then we flew back on Wednesday.

Arctic trip III: Say "welcome", Norge, beauty!

(This is a post I should have written yesterday, but I did not get to it)

We left Fauske on Wednesday and traveled to the Lofoten islands. The process was smooth in the beginning: we left early in the morning and the first kilometer or so, it was okay. Then one fellow traveler slipped and broke the (unopened) vodka bottle which was the first indication that things will not go that smooth on that day. In hindsight, it has to be told that he could have broken his arm, so, the damage was really minor.

Then we went to the bus station and took the bus to Skudvik, and from there, we went by ferry to Svolvær (and, if you ever wondered: the Notwegian æ is pronounced as the a in smart). In Svolvær, we did not catch the right bus and found out that (1) the next bus is in two hours (2) the next bus will not bring us to the desired destination (3) the next bus will cost us around 200 NOK each. So we took the only reliable public transport hereabout, which is the Hurtigruten ship line and paid 160 NOK each. Yes, the big one. Yes, it says something about both the roads and the Easter traffic here.

We arrived in Stamsund in a rather cute hostel which looked like (and probably was derived from) a fisherman’s house directly in the fjord. The next four days consisted mostly of wandering around and socializing with the other people in the hostel, almost all of which were in some way or another downshifters, hipsters and French girls. As a means of relaxation from the XKCD-style long walks along the fjord, I was reading HPMoR and taking pictures of varying quality — I have to say that the weather in Stamsund was not exactly predictable and changed on a hourly basis. We managed to see some glowing aurora remnants, though.

At some point we were looking at the book shelf in the hostel and were recommended a book titled “Tod in den Lofoten” (“Death on the Lofoten islands”, most probably not translated). The cover depicted a naked woman sitting on the beach, turned with the back to the reader, which is a direct violation of stage rule number zero: Never turn your back to the audience. I tried to take the book seriously. I failed. While reading the first pages, I had the same feelings I usually get when I read the “tasty parts” of low-class fan fiction, which are some mixture of disgust (“Ew, you can’t write THAT!”) and researcher’s curiosity (“What real-life experience moved the author, a German pastor, to the conclusion that real, non-cardboard characters would act like THAT?”).

On a positive note, I must say that the Lofoten archipelago is really beautiful — in any weather. I have shot about 250 pictures of which only the very best are here (and I wand to note here: I love my tripod!). I recommend to look at these pictures while listening either to classical music (like the Ninth Symphony) or melancholic Scandinavian metal. It fits surprisingly well.

We left Stamsund on Sunday (Happy Easter!) and proceeded to Tromsø with the Hurtigruten line. The ship was very nice, but in the end, rather boring (not so if you are seasick :D), so I was mostly reading, drinking tea and making pictures of what appeared appropriate. I managed to find the limits of my camera (not too hard if you try, really): the evening-night shots are… well… see for yourself. Probably better optics can solve this problem.

Arctic trip II

Today we walked around Fauske and came upon a farm with (probably emo, judging by their hair styling) horses and a marble mine. Manual focus rules, but now I need a decent viewfinder, which is not really cheap. I probably should just wait for the prices to fall.

Arctic trip I

Since my recent posts about Life, the Universe and Everything did not receive much attention, I infer that this one will probably generate more interest.

Today I arrived in Fauske, which is a small village near (in the Norwegian sense of “near”) Bodø, and is definitely farther north than the Arctic Circle (>67° N). The Norwegian sense of “near” was explained to us by a local girl who (by the way) dropped that a Norwegian mile is ten kilometers, which says a lot about distances here.

The following pictures were made near not too far from the cabin. I finally surrendered to my urge to force the camera to do what I want, which resulted in making most of the pictures in semi-manual mode, and some of them fully manual (as in, manually setting up the aperture, the shutter speed and the focus distance). I was being helped by the camera, so it was not a great deal, but it felt good. Being in control always feels good 🙂

Departing…

…to Bodø, Lofoten and Tromsø in less than half an hour.

I will be back. There will be pics.

The subtle difference…

…between superiority and arrogance can be seen in the following sentences appearing as author notes of an otherwise well-written piece of fiction:

Before anyone asks, yes, we’re polyamorous – I am in long-term relationships with three women, all of whom are involved with more than one guy.  Apologies in advance to any 19th-century old fogies who are offended by our more advanced culture.

Either my version of the social protocol is too much continental or it is really not okay to establish yourself at the cost of those fellas that are wired otherwise. I fully understand that there are no rational reasons to force yourself to have exactly one partner, but in my life, there is no place for a whole social network raising my children. Before anyone asks, yes, I have the wish to reproduce somewhere in the future. Apologies in advance to any hipsters who are offended by my speciecism.

Cards

Being a student in Trondheim means having a lot of cards.

Clockwise, from the upper left corner: Bus card, student card, dancing society membership card, semester card, key card for the washing machines (also serves as a door opener in some houses), sports society membership card.

Zee Germanz

(This will be a troll post to some extent. Also, sad topics ahead. Proceed at your own risk.)

I was yesterday sitting with some Germans in a cafe and talking about random things. Then, at some point, the conversation switched to the topic “How I want to be buried”. Since it was not the first time I was having this conversation and especially not the first time I was having this conversation in a German company, I drew the conclusion that that might be something German-specific. And if you read some German magazines, you will almost certainly read something death-related in the “Science” block: euthanasia, the climate that kills us, our children will not live better than us (accept it and die, you progress-oriented scum).

WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS? Do you (and the rest of the society) all of a sudden prepare to die in your mid-twenties? How the hell can you care about your death than about your life? I, for one, care more about what I will create in my lifetime. What happens afterwards is (largely) beyond my responsibility, except for things I will have done myself (like raising kids, solving P=NP or the like). And worrying about things I cannot change is just a pure waste of time. Seriously, guys. Research some neuroscience instead. If you do not, you will almost certainly die out and the future generations of other societies will point and laugh at those retards that extinguished themselves voluntarily.

Say NO to drugs and bad IDEs!

I guess I would be more productive if I spent the time writing this post actually coding for any of the two projects I have going on, but I have to vent or I’ll just go on swearing in real life.

So, one project involves writing generic neural network code and training it on robots. The first part is actually fun (if you can wait long enough and accept that your toy functions need a lot of time to get optimized). The second part is turning into a small nightmare. Why?

  • First, the idea is that the robots are tested in a virtual environment which is run by proprietary (and the bad kind of proprietary: the one developed by small companies with strict licensing policies) software that need to be connected to the license server all the time for no reason other than authenticating your license.
  • Second, the software provides a development environment. Which sounds better than it actually is—it is just an editor with code highlighting and keyword completion. Think Kate or Notepad++. While I have been coding somewhat non-trivial database applications in PHP, like, six years ago with nothing more than an advanced editor with code highlighting, I then was not bound by any kind of deadline or any other obligation—it was a “just for fun” project—and I moved later on to better-suited tools.
  • Third, the lack of any publicly available documentation makes me code by example, which is somewhat acceptable in a small context (as I will just need to plug in the sensors into the ANN and the ANN outputs into the robot driving system), but, generally, it is just impossible, since all the cool libraries (like Qt) are not available and I am left alone with STL and Boost.
  • Fourth, and the most important part: The run/test cycles are completely inadequate for a three-week project. Training an ANN for a robot means running the simulation in real-time and praying that the ANN topology is just right and the stars stand in the positions suited for such shamanic work.

This left me with one exit: I had to code and debug the ANN code separately. Which has its own fun parts since if you have no idea what to expect from a dynamic system, you cannot tell for sure if its behavior is the intended one. But the run/test cycles are here at least less than one minute.

(The current music running in my earphones—Kill Dash Nine by Monzy—reflects my feelings towards the Webots software package as whole and the buddies that come up with such problems)

Oslo

I have been to Oslo on Saturday. I managed to take a whole lot of pictures, but nevertheless I also want to tell you something that did not quite fit in the camera. Foremost, one of the main problems of Oslo is that you have to look very carefully for a spot to make pictures from — the city is somewhat dense. Another thing that strikes really hard is the contrast between different parts of Oslo. When you are riding to Holmenkollen (where we were heading to) on the tram, you see a lot of cute little, mostly wooden, houses and you might be inclined to think that spending a significant part of your life in Norway does not sound that bad. Near the train station, the city looks more Amsterdam — a lot of building is going on, and there are a lot of semi-skyscrapers (lower than in Frankfurt, but higher than in your average city). Then, if you go further north from the station, you come — very abruptly — into a part of the city that looks very ghetto-like: graffitis, old houses, strange people running around, stuff like that. I was somewhat happy to get out of that neighborhood.

Another thing that is not mentioned in the pictures is the ride to Oslo and back. Norway is a long country, so, the train from Trondheim needs quite a while (about seven hours) to reach Oslo. The most sensible way to travel is to do it overnight, so you can get some sleep and do not lose time in the transit. The ride back was with a bus — similar time schedule, less comfortable, but also a little cheaper.

Yeah, yeah, you are bored and need more pics. Here they come:

One of the impressions from Holmenkollen was that almost every Norwegian there was really drunk — and that even before they won that 50km race. No, really, nearly everyone had a bottle in his or her hands and when the race was over, somebody cried “Swedes go home!” (because the Swedish racers did not perform good).