One of my friends from London came up to Leicester earlier this week, and I joined her on the trip back to London to see another friend in Oxford a few days later, and then travel up to Leicester again - and I realised that I haven't written yet about the How To of English Public Transport (though I suppose it is generally applicable to Wales, Scotland and NI also). So here goes.
Trains
Like all public transport, the trains have been privatised, meaning that there are separate companies on different bits of the English rail network. Like, when I travel to London, I travel by East Midlands, while to Stansted (and from Oxford to Birmingham and Birmingham to Leicester) I travel by CrossCountry. This means that it could get confusing to look up train times beforehand.
Thankfully, there is the National Rail website, where you can easily just do an enquiry and from there also be redirected to the company websites to book tickets. Tickets can generally be sent to any UK address (for a fee, of course), though often there is also the option of collecting them from the ticket machines at the station, which work by sticking in the card you used to book your tickets with, then typing in the booking reference; the third option, which is not widely available (CrossCountry does it, East Midlands does not), is to book an e-ticket, which simply works by emailing you your ticket, which you then of course have to print and carry with you.
Mind, trains are relatively expensive, but they are comfortable, often having the option of buying 'light refreshments' (tea, coffee, crisps) and nice seats with decent tables. Also, they often go multiple times in an hour, at least to the places you'd actually want to visit.
If you plan to travel often, it may be worthwhile to buy a 16-25 Railcard. They currently cost £30, used to be £28. You can get one by taking a passport photograph, filling out the flyer (obtainable at any railway station) and taking your passport or driver's licence to the ticket desk at a station and requesting one. What they do is give you 1/3 off on any rail ticket, and they are valid for a year. However, there's also the option of getting one for 3 years (£70), for which you can apply until the last day before you turn 24, so it'll also be valid when you're actually 26. In my case, an Off-Peak Return ticket to London can cost £56, but now I pay about £35 - so it took me three trips to London to save more than I spent on the Railcard. However, if you live in London, of course, it's not of much use unless you intend to travel to the country a lot (or are planning a rail trip that on its own already costs over £90 - like when you suddenly decide to make the 8 or so hour journey up to Scotland).
Coaches
If you're willing to spend a little more time travelling in order to spend a little less money, you may instead opt to travel by coach - long-distance bus. There's a lot going from London Victoria. You can easily book tickets via National Express, although again, these can only be delivered to UK addresses. You can often also buy tickets from the driver or at a desk at the coach station. They're good value for money.
Buses
Local transport is always a bit of a matter of getting used to, because it's somehow always different everywhere even if it isn't.
A bus can be taken by simply stating your destination to the driver and handing him the appropriate amount of cash. They don't take cards and they're not happy with you if you hand them £20 if your fee is £2.40. As there are buses where the next stop isn't announced (like, Dutch Connexxion buses go, "next stop: Renesse Transferium" - the buses I've been on in England so far don't do this), you will have to keep in mind where to stop, or miss your stop and have to walk back a bit.
But don't worry, there's a stop every few hundred metres and on a weekday, popular lines have a frequency of up to six times per hour, so if you miss your stop, you won't have to walk much further and if you miss your bus, you won't have to wait long.
Do keep in mind that the last bus usually goes around 11-ish in summer, earlier in winter.
Taxis
I love taxis, they make me feel so decadent even if they're perfectly normal at night when the buses no longer run. They'll charge night fees after midnight, but if you can share one your share won't be more than a few pounds. In any case, cheaper and better than in the Netherlands - if you catch a random taxi, do make sure it's a licensed one because they have to adhere to all sorts of standards. Black cab style taxis are usually good.
The Tube
The Tube of course is a phenomenon, and I'm far from being an expert on it as I don't live in London and my experiences on the Rotterdam subway are not comparable.
So if you intend to live in London, ask someone else about advice for the Tube.
If you intend to visit semi-regularly, you can follow my advice.
First the basics (though you should know this already anyway):
Mind the Gap.
Keep to the right on the escalators.
Use every bit of available space when it's crowded.
Don't talk to strangers.
Don't be loud.
Right, so that should make you not be too visitorly awkward. The good thing about the Tube it that every train on every line has an incredibly high frequency - however, tube trains don't run really late at night/really early in the morning, so don't miss the last tube.
You can buy tickets from the machines (just follow the instructions, they're relatively simple for us Internet-savvy people) or from the ticket desks. The machines also dispense Day Tickets, which are about £8 or so for Zones 1 and 2 (if you're visiting, you won't travel outside of these zones anyway as even Greenwich is still Zone 2) and which are valid for the entire day. If you're staying longer, it is wiser to get a multiple day Oyster card from the ticket desk - I think it's 7 days. That one works just like the ordinary OV Chipkaart, but it's, as implied, only valid for 7 days.
If you're staying even longer, contemplate getting a proper Oyster and sticking on some money, it might be cheaper. And also then, get advice from someone actually living in London.
If I think of other transport-related things, I'll modify this post. This will also be posted some time in the future on the Tips page.
Sunday 23 June 2013
Thursday 13 June 2013
Home Is Where the Heart Is
Yesterday, I returned home after a week-long trip... home.
I spent the week rushing hither and thither, attending interviews, parties and meetings, seeing people I haven't seen in almost a year and generally forging new and renewing connections. It's been a busy week.
It's very peculiar, the things you come to appreciate when you're away for a bit - and some are very small things, too, linked across countries.
I've come to notice that there really is a difference between the amounts of please and thank you people say in shops, and that there really is a difference in whether or not to queue, and whether to close the curtains.
But not all differences are substantial. I had chats with multiple people in which the fact came up that I'd managed to bring my bicycle across the sea, and the main question was - can you even cycle there?
Well, yes. Leicester's magnificently bicycle-friendly. We've bike lanes and most motorists are very courteous - more courteous than Dutch motorists, in fact - although most seem to have some trouble anticipating velocity. I can park it just about anywhere, in the centre we've lots of dedicated bicycle spots. In that sense, it is not much different from any moderately large Dutch city, except for the fact that my bike stands out a bit because it has a luggage carrier and is clearly very old according to non-Dutch standards - if I calculate correctly, I must've had it for, oh, eleven years now. The biggest difference, however, is that Leicester's not flat.
I used to yearn for stroopwafels and paprika crisps, but I've found replacements - flamed grilled steak crisps taste similar enough, and there are so many other biscuits to try. Besides, I don't eat those on a regular basis anyway.
I do still miss bread, because English supermarket bread is generally fairly dense and heavy, and some of the brown breads lean towards tasting like rye bread, which I've never liked. But I've found that the cheapest white bread more or less takes on the flavour of whatever I put in my sandwich and isn't nearly as sweet as white bread in the Netherlands, so I'm satisfied there too.
And there are things that are so much better here. I love the cleanliness and comfort of the Greater Anglia and CrossCountry trains to respectively London and Stansted, and that you can reserve a seat when pre-booking a ticket. Pre-packaged sandwiches (with bacon!). The fact that real bookshops (still) exist here on a relatively large scale (related is the fact that they're all English-language books - I generally dislike Dutch literature, it's generally pretentious pseudo-existentialist nonsense). Queueing. Please and thank you. The way some elderly ladies and gentlemen dress. The fact that left-handed side roads feel strangely calming to my left-handed brain (or that might just be me, any other lefties willing to weigh in on that?). The fact that British English has cutesy words like 'lorry' and 'wheely bin' for things that are generally loud and/or filthy. For that matter, British English and its many, many accents. The BBC. The fact that if you have to go to some institution of national importance, it's bound to be in London instead of all over the place (Netherlands, not so much - could be in Rotterdam, The Hague, Amsterdam, Utrecht - or, in the stupid case of DUO, Groningen). For that matter, London. The fact that paper money still has people on it (and cool people, too - Charles Darwin and, in a bit, Winston Churchill). The fact that pound coins are shaped funny. Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Sherlock (Holmes), Narnia, His Dark Materials, Lord of the Rings, Shakespeare. The Beatles (and generally most of the stuff done by Paul McCartney), The Rolling Stones, The Who.
I often like to complain about things, such as that I don't think Leicester is very pretty (as it isn't), and that the weather's foul (as it is), etc.. But it's not all bad. In fact, if I'd get the chance to stay, I would, without a doubt, stay.
There's a place where a lot of my friends live. And there's my room in Leicester. And having been away for a week, after having lived here for eight months, they're both home. Funny, that.
Saturday 8 June 2013
Ain't No Party Like A Roosevelt (Grad) Party
So, I suppose I'm now back to writing a diary-like entry. That's okay, I prefer things a bit mixed in real life too, I suppose my blog should be a reflection of that - poetry, diary-like and some very serious opinions.
It was wonderful to be back in Middelburg again.
I was back for a reason - the University College Roosevelt class of 2013 graduated, and I could not not go over and congratulate them. I consider at least three of the graduates to be very good friends, but then I sat there and realised that of the 130-something graduates, I knew at least a good third, and recognized another third as people I'd been in courses with or did committee things with 'back in my day'. A further ten or twenty percent were people whose names or faces (or both) I recognized.
Imagine that - they're not students who were in my year, and very many of them weren't even in my department, and yet I recognized about 3/4 of them.
It's not only easy to imagine that a university college of 600 is close-knit, it's even more strikingly easy to see that this is, in fact, the case - not only did I recognize them, a good amount recognized me in turn!
There's always a good reason to return to Middelburg - it's very pretty, and especially on days like yesterday it's good to spend the day out in the Zeeuwse sun and wind, to remove just about every trace of winter. And there's no better way to spend some good time in the sun with lemon-flavoured ice cream from Domani and a book while sat on the Helm square.
The ceremony was lovely as always - the grads in their black caps and gowns, the professors and lecturers in their fancy coloured robes, and all family and friends dressed up. As per usual, professor Oomen was wonderful, the commencement speaker was interesting ("Be the hero of your own story!") and the alumni gift to UCR - a mascot, a Teddy bear with a horned Viking helmet! - was awesome.
The reception afterwards, on the Abbey square, provided ample opportunity to flit around congratulating everyone wearing a black gown and have a good chat with lecturers. I got to tell one of my former Economics lecturers that I'm still using the Economic Naturalist concepts he taught me in Economics 160 to interpret Rational theories in Criminology. I got to have a chat with my former Rhetoric professor about my PhD applications. I got to talk to another lecturer about living in the UK - and also about this blog, actually (if you're reading this, Dr Lahey - hi!). I got to realise that without RA/UCR I would be such a different person now.
I got to ask so many wonderful graduates about their plans for next year, and hear so amazingly many cool replies. There's people going to Oxford and Cambridge to study things like Latin and English; there's people going to London to study things like Economics and International Relations; there's people staying in the Netherlands to do Law. There's people having obtained enviable internships with fascinating institutions and companies, and there's people planning trips to faraway destinations.
So UCR class of 2013: Congratulations. Your results are brilliant, and your plans are inspiring. I wish you so much good luck and prosperity in all your endeavours. And cheers for letting me celebrate your achievements with you.
So let's end this post with this Ode to Zeeland, the unofficial anthem (at least, it was back in my day) of UCR parties: Blof's Hier Aan de Kust.
It was wonderful to be back in Middelburg again.
I was back for a reason - the University College Roosevelt class of 2013 graduated, and I could not not go over and congratulate them. I consider at least three of the graduates to be very good friends, but then I sat there and realised that of the 130-something graduates, I knew at least a good third, and recognized another third as people I'd been in courses with or did committee things with 'back in my day'. A further ten or twenty percent were people whose names or faces (or both) I recognized.
Imagine that - they're not students who were in my year, and very many of them weren't even in my department, and yet I recognized about 3/4 of them.
It's not only easy to imagine that a university college of 600 is close-knit, it's even more strikingly easy to see that this is, in fact, the case - not only did I recognize them, a good amount recognized me in turn!
There's always a good reason to return to Middelburg - it's very pretty, and especially on days like yesterday it's good to spend the day out in the Zeeuwse sun and wind, to remove just about every trace of winter. And there's no better way to spend some good time in the sun with lemon-flavoured ice cream from Domani and a book while sat on the Helm square.
The ceremony was lovely as always - the grads in their black caps and gowns, the professors and lecturers in their fancy coloured robes, and all family and friends dressed up. As per usual, professor Oomen was wonderful, the commencement speaker was interesting ("Be the hero of your own story!") and the alumni gift to UCR - a mascot, a Teddy bear with a horned Viking helmet! - was awesome.
The reception afterwards, on the Abbey square, provided ample opportunity to flit around congratulating everyone wearing a black gown and have a good chat with lecturers. I got to tell one of my former Economics lecturers that I'm still using the Economic Naturalist concepts he taught me in Economics 160 to interpret Rational theories in Criminology. I got to have a chat with my former Rhetoric professor about my PhD applications. I got to talk to another lecturer about living in the UK - and also about this blog, actually (if you're reading this, Dr Lahey - hi!). I got to realise that without RA/UCR I would be such a different person now.
I got to ask so many wonderful graduates about their plans for next year, and hear so amazingly many cool replies. There's people going to Oxford and Cambridge to study things like Latin and English; there's people going to London to study things like Economics and International Relations; there's people staying in the Netherlands to do Law. There's people having obtained enviable internships with fascinating institutions and companies, and there's people planning trips to faraway destinations.
So UCR class of 2013: Congratulations. Your results are brilliant, and your plans are inspiring. I wish you so much good luck and prosperity in all your endeavours. And cheers for letting me celebrate your achievements with you.
So let's end this post with this Ode to Zeeland, the unofficial anthem (at least, it was back in my day) of UCR parties: Blof's Hier Aan de Kust.
Tuesday 4 June 2013
Freedom of Speech
One of my the commenters on my last blog post brought up the point '[i]f someone wants to comment on someone else's body, who am I, or anyone else, or the State, to stop them [...]?'. Fair point. Good point, too.
It's indeed something that needs to be brought up when we're discussing gender equality or any other thing, because oppressing people's speech is just as bad, or perhaps even worse, than any form of discrimination and unfairness. Or at least I think so.
Freedom of speech is a great good - without it, we can't challenge existing paradigms, can't make a change, and can't progress. Without freedom of speech we can't ensure justice, for injustice cannot be challenged when freedom of speech is taken away. There's a reason sites like Twitter are blocked in a number of countries.
Who can decide what can and can't be said? I agree with my commenter, and I don't think my agreement makes me a hypocrite for simultaneously thinking we should challenge sexists and misogynists (misandrists too, btw, it's just as prejudiced a set of ideas as misogyny and just as harmful).
This is a confusion of meaning I see in lots of arguments - I'm also guilty of them. It's confusing the meaning of freedom from prosecution and freedom from consequence.
Freedom from prosecution means that you should not be punished for having one opinion or the other. This includes imprisonment, fines, corporal punishment, but also being socially outcast.
Freedom from consequence means that no one is allowed to challenge your opinion.
And by conflating consequence and prosecution, one essentially limits another's freedom of speech.
I should be able to say that I think monarchy is an outdated concept and that both the Netherlands and the UK should stop having a royal in charge. Should I be allowed to say this? Very much so - if either the Netherlands or the UK should decide to prosecute me for it, they'd be in the wrong.
Should my friends, some of whom are very much in favour of monarchies, be able to say that my opinion is wrong, that monarchy isn't outdated at all and that having a royal family is a great benefit to either nation? Also very much so.
And that was my intention with my Gender Equality post. I don't think sexists, misogynists and misandrists should be locked up or socially outcast, despite me thinking that their opinions are wrong and actually sort of evil. What I do think, however, is that their opinions should not go unchallenged - we (I was also called out on my use of 'we', I intended an inclusive we, i.e. those who agree with my line of reasoning versus those who don't, who are 'they') should instead call them out on their opinions, telling them "well, I think you're wrong to think like that, and here's why".
If there's no one to challenge an opinion, if everyone surrounds themselves only with people who agree with them (and I know many people do prefer doing that, including myself), you'll get those sort of amplification cycles where an opinion just gets more and more extreme.
I reiterate, freedom of speech is a great good; it may actually be our greatest good.
Lon Fuller writes, "If I were asked, then, to discern one central indisputable principle of what may be called substantive natural law - Natural Law with capital letters - I should find it in the injunction: Open up, maintain, and preserve the integrity of the channels of communication by which men [sic*] convey to one another what they perceive, feel, and desire." (The Morality of Law, 1969, p. 186 - one of my absolute favourite non-fiction books).
*It was the 1960s, I suppose I must forgive him for it.
In other words, we must communicate - and if we are going to communicate, we'd better make sure we can do it as well as possible by putting up as few barriers as possible. Freedom of speech is the ultimate way of taking away most, if not all, barriers. But we would do well to remember that not everything which is said and done, is right, and if it isn't, we must be able to challenge it.
In short: sexists should be able to express sexist thoughts. But we should also be able to call them out on it, and actually do call them out on it, and they should, in turn, be able to poke holes in our arguments, et cetera, until we reach a consensus. It's a bit like trying to reach an economic equilibrium.
Baruch de Spinoza (also a fan of Freedom of Speech) thought that revolution wasn't right, as it was an emotional thing; instead, he advocated social evolution by educating the public, which is a very rational approach (according to my SSC151 Introduction to Political Theory course notes).
I tend to agree - I too am a fan of education and I too think a rational approach is better. For this rational approach, freedom of speech is needed - it is the only way to reach a logically solid consensus.
Freedom of speech can be compared to a pressure vessel. Contain the pressure (i.e. disallow people from expressing their opinions), and the vessel will explode. Release the pressure, and the vessel will remain intact. Without freedom of speech, we might end up with a revolution. With freedom of speech, we can reach a consensual state of overall fairness without having to resort to more drastic, more destructive, means.
But freedom of speech does not just mean that everyone has the right to shout sexually explicit things to others in the street. It also means that those who are shouted at have the right to have their experiences of feeling intimidated be heard, too, and it also means that these victims have the right to ask the people doing the shouting to consider not doing it.
Can those advocating gender inequality be prosecuted for their views? No, and we shouldn't want to. But can they be asked to consider the consequences of their views, should their views be challenged? Very much so.
It's indeed something that needs to be brought up when we're discussing gender equality or any other thing, because oppressing people's speech is just as bad, or perhaps even worse, than any form of discrimination and unfairness. Or at least I think so.
Freedom of speech is a great good - without it, we can't challenge existing paradigms, can't make a change, and can't progress. Without freedom of speech we can't ensure justice, for injustice cannot be challenged when freedom of speech is taken away. There's a reason sites like Twitter are blocked in a number of countries.
Who can decide what can and can't be said? I agree with my commenter, and I don't think my agreement makes me a hypocrite for simultaneously thinking we should challenge sexists and misogynists (misandrists too, btw, it's just as prejudiced a set of ideas as misogyny and just as harmful).
This is a confusion of meaning I see in lots of arguments - I'm also guilty of them. It's confusing the meaning of freedom from prosecution and freedom from consequence.
Freedom from prosecution means that you should not be punished for having one opinion or the other. This includes imprisonment, fines, corporal punishment, but also being socially outcast.
Freedom from consequence means that no one is allowed to challenge your opinion.
And by conflating consequence and prosecution, one essentially limits another's freedom of speech.
I should be able to say that I think monarchy is an outdated concept and that both the Netherlands and the UK should stop having a royal in charge. Should I be allowed to say this? Very much so - if either the Netherlands or the UK should decide to prosecute me for it, they'd be in the wrong.
Should my friends, some of whom are very much in favour of monarchies, be able to say that my opinion is wrong, that monarchy isn't outdated at all and that having a royal family is a great benefit to either nation? Also very much so.
And that was my intention with my Gender Equality post. I don't think sexists, misogynists and misandrists should be locked up or socially outcast, despite me thinking that their opinions are wrong and actually sort of evil. What I do think, however, is that their opinions should not go unchallenged - we (I was also called out on my use of 'we', I intended an inclusive we, i.e. those who agree with my line of reasoning versus those who don't, who are 'they') should instead call them out on their opinions, telling them "well, I think you're wrong to think like that, and here's why".
If there's no one to challenge an opinion, if everyone surrounds themselves only with people who agree with them (and I know many people do prefer doing that, including myself), you'll get those sort of amplification cycles where an opinion just gets more and more extreme.
I reiterate, freedom of speech is a great good; it may actually be our greatest good.
Lon Fuller writes, "If I were asked, then, to discern one central indisputable principle of what may be called substantive natural law - Natural Law with capital letters - I should find it in the injunction: Open up, maintain, and preserve the integrity of the channels of communication by which men [sic*] convey to one another what they perceive, feel, and desire." (The Morality of Law, 1969, p. 186 - one of my absolute favourite non-fiction books).
*It was the 1960s, I suppose I must forgive him for it.
In other words, we must communicate - and if we are going to communicate, we'd better make sure we can do it as well as possible by putting up as few barriers as possible. Freedom of speech is the ultimate way of taking away most, if not all, barriers. But we would do well to remember that not everything which is said and done, is right, and if it isn't, we must be able to challenge it.
In short: sexists should be able to express sexist thoughts. But we should also be able to call them out on it, and actually do call them out on it, and they should, in turn, be able to poke holes in our arguments, et cetera, until we reach a consensus. It's a bit like trying to reach an economic equilibrium.
Baruch de Spinoza (also a fan of Freedom of Speech) thought that revolution wasn't right, as it was an emotional thing; instead, he advocated social evolution by educating the public, which is a very rational approach (according to my SSC151 Introduction to Political Theory course notes).
I tend to agree - I too am a fan of education and I too think a rational approach is better. For this rational approach, freedom of speech is needed - it is the only way to reach a logically solid consensus.
Freedom of speech can be compared to a pressure vessel. Contain the pressure (i.e. disallow people from expressing their opinions), and the vessel will explode. Release the pressure, and the vessel will remain intact. Without freedom of speech, we might end up with a revolution. With freedom of speech, we can reach a consensual state of overall fairness without having to resort to more drastic, more destructive, means.
But freedom of speech does not just mean that everyone has the right to shout sexually explicit things to others in the street. It also means that those who are shouted at have the right to have their experiences of feeling intimidated be heard, too, and it also means that these victims have the right to ask the people doing the shouting to consider not doing it.
Can those advocating gender inequality be prosecuted for their views? No, and we shouldn't want to. But can they be asked to consider the consequences of their views, should their views be challenged? Very much so.
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