Hydrographic humour

It’s good to have something to make you laugh at the start of your day.  Today, I was particularly taken by this article on a UK government website:

 

It wasn’t the headline that made me laugh, of course – that’s pretty serious.  No, what caught my attention (thanks to mhoye on Mastodon) was further down, where they offer the general public some advice on how the they can help mitigate the situation:

Fabulous!  Yes, it’s those emails from granny that are really emptying the reservoirs!  Free up some hard disk space and the rivers will flow freely again! I particularly like the use of the word ‘pressure’.

So I’m now left contemplating a set of possibilities, in increasingly worrying order:

  • This was put in as a joke, to test whether the editor actually read the article before publishing it, or…
  • The article was actually written using ChatGPT, or…
  • We actually have people this foolish working for our government agencies and publishing recommendations on their behalf.

Mmm….

 

Everything Broken Everywhere?

Readers in the UK will be familiar with the ‘EE’ mobile network operator, and those with a long memory may recall that its original name was ‘Everything Everywhere’.  Well, that’s just what they have been failing to provide today.

I spent a happy few hours today trying to work out why my mother’s phone wasn’t able to make or receive calls. It’s a difficult thing to diagnose remotely, so, after the first hour, I drove an hour down the road to her house to carry on the investigation.  

Eventually, after checking all the possible mobile-service-related settings on the iPhone, restarting, rebooting, turning airplane mode on and off — you know the routine — I started experimenting with swapping SIMs with my Vodafone one, and found that her EE SIM could only call landlines and not other mobiles. Eventually I came to the conclusion that it had to be something related to her actual mobile account or connection.    

Had she run out of credit or minutes or something?   Why, in that case, couldn’t she receive calls either? I logged into her EE account — no issues reported there.  Installed their app — nothing reported there.  They had a web page where you could check for any known issues in your area — all showing a happy, green status.  I’m embarrassed to admit that I still have a Twitter account, so I looked at ‘@EE’: nothing posted there either… for a year or more.  

Because the key thing you really want to know at this stage is, “Is it only me? Is anybody else seeing this?  Could it actually be an issue not related to my account or my equipment?”

And then I searched Twitter for what other people were saying about ‘@EE’.  And that’s when I discovered that no, we most certainly were not alone!  There were huge numbers of people suffering from the same issues.  And gradually, other websites like TechRadar started to report on what was happening, mostly initiated by the reports on DownDetector.

It turns out that it’s not just EE: Vodafone and Three have been having problems today too:

 

So it’s a pretty nationwide problem.  

But try finding any reference to it on the websites of any of these companies!  I couldn’t.  In fact, it’s pretty hard to find a proper support page at all.    I have both Vodafone and EE SIMs myself, yet has anybody notified me that there might be problems?  Not a squeak.

All they need is a banner at the top of their website saying, “Sorry, some customers are experiencing problems with their mobile service at present. We’re working on it!”  That would have saved me a couple of hours of driving and a couple of hours of troubleshooting today.  But when companies get to a certain size, they stop caring about communicating with their users, and the marketing departments have more clout than the customer support departments.  Cory Doctorow has a word for this.

Of course, it may also be that companies over a certain size have so much bureaucracy in place relating to their online presence that they can’t actually make quick changes to their website to respond to issues in a timely fashion!

So I’m going to start paying more attention to sites like DownDetector.  It would be a source of distress to me if I had to depend on Twitter(X) for anything these days.

And another thing occurred to me. This was, I think, only an issue with routing traditional phone calls between networks.  (That’s not a trivial problem; I can remember, for example, when you could only send SMS texts to people who were on the same network as you were.  I’m much less concerned that the networks had technical challenges than I am that they did such an appalling job with customer communication when it happened.)   But here’s the thing:  I don’t think you would have been affected if you were making your calls with FaceTime.   Or Signal. Or if you’d made that Faustian bargain and used WhatsApp.  (And, possibly, even if you’d enabled Wifi calling and used your normal number routed over the internet.)  People under 35 probably barely noticed.

No, this particular outage affected those making traditional phone calls in the traditional way.  And I wonder for how much longer that’ll be an issue?

Joie de vivre

Our dearly beloved cocker spaniel, Tilly, passed away yesterday evening, just a couple of months before her sixteenth birthday. If you believe the old adage of one dog year corresponding to seven human years, she was 110. We’d had her since she was a few weeks old.

It was a good life, as well as a long one. She holidayed from the Pyrennees to the Outer Hebrides, from the south-west coasts of Cornwall to the north-east islands of the Netherlands. She summitted Snowdon, and delved into the caves of the Dordogne.

For pretty much all of the last decade and a half, she has been our constant companion, and her requirements often dictated where we stayed, where we ate, which vehicles we drove, the campervans we bought, and even the purchase of our last two houses.

She had two walks a day, usually one from me and one from Rose, and we must each individually have walked somewhere over 7000 miles in her presence. That’s the distance from New York to Los Angeles… times three! Tilly, of course, therefore did that at least twice that, though for most of her life she was running rings around us as well!

She made friends with small children, and she also comforted the sick and dying. Another friend told me how, whenever she felt down, she would go and watch the Leaping Tilly video I had posted on YouTube, and it would cheer her up. (Ten years later, Tilly was still leaping!)

Tilly counted several celebrities amongst her acquaintance, too. I remember her accompanying us to a TV studio once and she jumped up to greet Alan Shearer when he got into the lift. She, of course, didn’t know him from Adam — any more, I confess, than I did! She was just always happy to see people and make new friends, whoever they were.

And now she’s gone, and we’re somewhat shell-shocked, and have to start reconfiguring our lives.

But thank you, Tilly, for 16 years of very happy memories, and, in the words of one of my favourite sayings…

Don’t cry because it’s over!
Smile because it happened!

Priorité à droite

I’m somewhat embarrassed to think of the number of miles I’ve driven in Europe without fully understanding the Priorité à droite rules — that’s the French name, at least, though other countries have something similar. This means you should often give way to traffic simply because it’s coming from the right, even if, say, you’re on a larger road and other vehicles are approaching from a smaller road on your right.

When is this the case? This video is a good and detailed explanation, and is valuable viewing for anyone visiting France from the UK or US:

(Direct YouTube link)

It’s also worth noting that the signs showing the name of a village, as you enter it, may also contain clues as to what is expected of you.

It used to be the case, I believe, that most French roundabouts also worked this way: when you were on the roundabout, you still had to give way to traffic approaching from the right. They changed this, though — I remember big signs when visiting in my youth that said ‘Vous n’avez pas la priorité!’ as you approached the roundabout — so I believe all French rond-points work the same way as the UK, now – but do post comments if I’m wrong!

You know you’re in a different world when…

You can be confident that you are no longer in land-locked Cambridgeshire…

Recycling bins in a Greek harbour

when you pop to the nearest recycling bins, and there are three: one for glass, one for aluminium, and one for fishing nets.

I’ve spent the last week or so sailing around the Aegean in my friend Philip’s 32-foot boat. I’ve done this once before, and he was kind enough to invite me back for a second visit. It was once again a wonderful trip, admittedly involving, at times, some sweaty cramped conditions and some rather primitive harbourside sanitation, but any such drawbacks were massively outweighed by the adventure, education and cameraderie as we explored parts of the Dodecanese and Cyclades islands.

I will remember some very fine dining and drinking.

Strawberry mojitos

Some stunning views, especially around the amazing volcanic caldera that is Santorini,

Chapel domes at Oia

Dolphins leaping and playing under our bows:

(Thanks to Pilgrim Beart for the clip)

Some adventurous sailing on the high seas — sometimes more adventurous than we wanted!

Archaeological sites with intact multi-storey houses more than twice as old as the Old Testament.

Plunging into warm seas from the back of the boat before breakfast, and again before bed.

Labyrinthine three-dimensional hillside towns with barely a straight line to be found.

And the millennium-spanning delight of reading Emily Wilson’s translation of The Iliad, on my Kindle, recently recharged by solar panels, while enjoying the breeze blowing off the sparkling blue sea.

And now I’m home, and I need to mow the lawn before it starts raining.

18 feet of fun

There’s an old joke amongst motorhome and campervan owners that everybody buys three vans, in a kind of Goldilocks process.  

Your first one is probably something of an impulse buy, and after you’ve learned its limitations (in size, bed dimensions, interior layout, number of berths, or whatever) you then over-compensate, and so buy something that doesn’t work for you in some other way.  It’s only on your third van that you have sufficient experience to trade off all the various compromises in a way that works for you.  

This is such a common process that I’ve seen articles entitled “How to buy your third van first!”. If you manage to do this, by the way, consider yourself lucky.  Buying such vehicles, if they’re even vaguely newish, can be a ridiculously expensive business (only made at all palatable by how well they hold their value after purchase).  But if you want to increase the cost even more, do it three times, with the vendors/part-exchangers wanting to make a profit on each transaction!

I’m afraid to say, though, that we managed to fit the stereotype perfectly, and in January we swapped our second van for our third one.  And while we’ve always had fun in all of our vans, we’re delighted with this latest incarnation.

At just 5.4m long, it’s only a hand’s breadth bigger than a long-wheelbase Range Rover, and though it’s the most expensive vehicle we will probably ever own, it is at least considerably cheaper than the Range Rover, which may have seven seats but I gather doesn’t even come with a loo!  (As my friend Euan Semple would deprecatingly put it, it’s just an SPV: a single-purpose vehicle.)

Anyway, for us, this length was important.  You see, different people use their campervans or motorhomes for very different things, and until you have one, you may not know what you enjoy most, and hence what the key criteria are for you. If you plan to drive to Portugal or the south of France and spend a couple of months living in it each year, moving only occasionally, then you probably want something much bigger: something more like a holiday cottage, with comfy sofas, an oven and a television.

But we want a vehicle that’s good for exploring: something we can take into the middle of a village, or deposit in a Sainsbury’s car park, without inconveniencing others or standing out like a sore thumb.  Our first van, based on a long-wheelbase VW T5, was great for that.  But we soon discovered that we preferred smaller campsites to bigger ones, and these often provide fewer facilities, so we had to be a bit more self-sufficient, and we exchanged the VW for something bigger.

This one was still only 6m, which is still very much at the smaller end of the scale — but we found that we treated it rather differently.  We might park it outside a town and cycle in (which meant carrying the bikes).   We might have to search a bit longer for a suitable parking space.  And we’d be less likely to take it on a day trip somewhere, because it didn’t feel like a drop-in alternative to a car.  So, though we had some wonderful trips in it, after a year and a half, we swapped it again.

And this time we bought pretty much the smallest van we could find that still had the facilities we wanted. This lopped two feet off the length, and, I discovered only after we owned it, three feet off the turning circle. I hadn’t really considered this as a key factor, but it’s wonderful.  Now, we may still be bigger than most cars, but we’re quite a bit smaller than most Amazon delivery vans.

In the above photo, you can see that we basically fit into standard parking spaces, and I still find it hard to believe that inside our little tardis, there’s a compact but comfy double bed, a small but functional kitchen, an exceedingly good hot water and heating system and even a little wet-room loo/shower.  Yes, gentle reader, you could be parked next to us in, say, this car park at the Carsington Water visitor centre and have no knowledge that one of us is reclining on the bed reading while the other enjoys a hot shower!

And though this lacks the spacious seating and expansive table of our previous van, it does have something that was new to us: a fixed bed across the back of the van, always there and always ready to flop into, which doesn’t require you to rotate and fold seats, unroll mattresses, unpack duvets, and then reverse the whole process the following morning.  So transitioning from having a place to sleep to having a thing you can drive around is much quicker and easier.  Even on a single day trip, you explore a cafe and an art gallery, have lunch, and then enjoy a little siesta in a comfy bed before venturing out again in the afternoon.  Heaven!   A permanent bed takes lots of space, but underneath it, accessible from the back doors, is a big boot space, in which we can carry things like inflatable kayaks, anchors and outboard motors: something that was much less convenient in the previous van, for all its extra length, thanks to its emphasis on maximising daytime living space.

No van is, of course, perfect, and this certainly wouldn’t work for everyone, but we’ve owned it for a little over 120 days, and I realise that I’ve already spent 22 happy nights in it over that time, despite purchasing it right in the middle of winter!  I think that’s a good sign.  For this particular Goldilocks, at least, it’s just right!

 

Are you being a fuel fool?

Petrol pump handleI’ve been driving an electric car for about a decade now, but because we also have a fossil-burning campervan, I do still occasionally need to visit one of those dirty, smelly, legacy refuelling stations, so…

If you use a site like PetrolPrices.com, you can find out roughly how much fuel costs at the various petrol stations near you.

This is handy. But it’s not really what you want to know, is it?

You actually want to know whether it’s worth driving 10 extra miles to fill up your tank at a cheaper location, given the extra time and distance involved and the fact that your tank is already half-full at present. It’s not always easy to translate a potential saving of 2.5p per litre into a number that means very much. Will it, for example, help pay off your mortgage, or just let you buy an extra chocolate biscuit when you get there?

So, in a burst of enthusiasm this morning, I threw together a little calculator to help with the maths:

Are you being a fuel fool?

Feedback and bug reports welcome!

How daft do they think we are?

Our bathroom cleaner announces in large letters that it removes ‘up to 100% of bathroom grime and limescale’. I suppose there could be a more meaningless claim, but really…?

Still, perhaps it’s actually a disclaimer to avoid legal action from those who believed that it would remove more than 100%.

Can Quentin get Quantum?

Like many… shall we say… classically-trained computer scientists (i.e. old ones), I have only the vaguest notion of how quantum computing actually works.  My understanding of the various topics can be best pictured as a cloud-like set of probability distributions which doesn’t exhibit any very high peaks!

So I was quite taken with Grant Sanderson’s latest video in his ‘3Blue1Brown’ YouTube channel, which does lovely graphical illustrations of mathematical concepts (each of which tends to get viewing figures measured in millions.) It increased my knowledge considerably of the kind of algorithms one might be able to run on a quantum machine.

“But what is quantum computing? (Grover’s Algorithm)”:

 

(Direct link to YouTube)

GPT

I liked this funny and perceptive 5-minute film about AI, by Ari Frenkel. The more you’ve played with ChatGPT and the like, the more you’ll probably appreciate this.

(Direct link to YouTube)

Curiouser and curiouser

Amongst the more bizarre aspects of the Trump tariff announcements last night were the figures he came up with for the tariffs being charged by other countries.

Even people who are as unfamiliar with economics as I am wondered, “Where on earth did he get those from?” They didn’t seem to bear any resemblance to reality. And while lies are part and parcel of most Trump announcements, the numbers had to come from somewhere, surely?

Well, it turns out that’s because they’re actually not to do with tariffs at all. These are not extra costs being imposed by other countries. They are simply a measure of the trade deficit that the USA has with those countries. Or, to put it another way, the degree to which US citizens want stuff from your country more than your citizens want stuff from the US… that’s how much we’re going to punish your country.

The FT has more details and an appropriate dose of incredulity. As they point out, suppose your country sells lots of bananas to the US… Well, bananas don’t grow in the US, so Americans can’t buy them locally. But we’re still going to impose tariffs…

“The numbers [for tariffs by country] have been calculated by the Council of Economic Advisers … based on the concept that the trade deficit that we have with any given country is the sum of all trade practices, the sum of all cheating,” a White House official said, calling it “the most fair thing in the world.”

Faster horses

Henry ford 1919.

I do like collecting quotations.  Here are some of the references to them on this blog, and I also have a collection of favourites here.

But one thing you quickly discover, if you dig a little deeper, is that a large proportion of the most popular favourites cannot be traced reliably to the people to whom they are commonly attributed.  

And here’s the latest example I’ve found… If you’ve done anything related to innovation or product design, you’ve probably heard Henry Ford’s famous comment:

“If I had asked my customers what they wanted, they would have said a faster horse!”

This is pretty well-known, but, once again, there seems to be very little evidence that he ever actually said it.  There’s a nice examination of the story on the Quote Investigator site.

If you’re like me, for some reason, you find this slightly disappointing.  But it’s hard to work out quite why.  Is it because, if we agree with a sentiment, and we then find that Henry Ford agrees with it too, it somehow validates our opinion?  “You know, Henry Ford agreed with me on this…”

 

Anyway, I’ve written about this before, and you can find further discussion of this idea by clicking on the image below.

© Copyright Quentin Stafford-Fraser