Mark Carroll's Journal

This afternoon, I achieved some goals. I walked to the local Sainsbury's and bought everything on my shopping list, plus some extra bagels, I also thought to look for insect repellent but they don't offer much of a range. I also walked to the beach and dipped my feet into the 13°C water a couple of times. On the way back, I happened upon both the Masjid Alhikmah and the nearby Aberdeen Multicultural Centre so at least I know where those are. I was on my way to a fish and chip shop. I notice that the curry sauce locally is darker and spicier than I am used to from England. I don't know if that reflects changes in time or place or that they have more South than East Asian influence or what. At least in SE Asia I don't think they have the concept of British Chinese curry sauce which I think at least includes five-spice.

This Saturday, I set off back to Taguig, we should hear about the visa applications while I am there. I belong with my wife. Happily, tomorrow I get to take my children to the Japanese Garden at Cowden Castle, it's well over a hundred miles one-way for me but worth it, though I'll be out of the house early as rain may move in later in the afternoon and my eldest will have evening D&D. This Wednesday, I'll take the train back into our Edinburgh office while an electrician replaces some emergency lighting here in the flat, then my goods and effects from Eastern Tennessee should be delivered shortly before I leave the country.

Once back in Taguig, Riza and I may resume our habit of morning walks. Often, we head over toward Arca South and buy some groceries on Maharlika Road on our way back. Not much further is the weekend market, Saturdays being the best for that, it's kind of temporary stalls but mostly covered by tarpaulin. Occasionally, we venture in a different direction to Laguna Lake. I hope that the visa applications are approved, that we get to walk together here too, unfortunately the UK immigration process is even worse than the US'. Naturally, I converted my savings largely into pounds sterling just in time for historic lows, I remember the days when £1 bought over $1.60, though also when gas in Ohio was 99¢/gallon and it made sense for me to own a 5ℓ V8. At the beach today, the cheapest single-scoop cone ice cream I saw was £2.50, I guess the usual beachfront price-doubling applies up here too. So, I didn't achieve the goal of ice cream at the beach but the important one was the feet-dipping.

I came home to mixed doubles snooker on the television, I didn't know that was a thing. Now I am here, I shall catch up on the latest of the new LotR show while treating myself to pista kheer. I have badam halwa for another day.

I am already settled back in to life in the flat here in Aberdeen. I was relieved that driving to Tesco on a rainy Sunday to stock up on many foods went fairly quickly and easily, that was encouraging. Still, lazily I overate rather in Taguig and, with returning from the tropics and being stricter about my food, on my quest to once again fit comfortably into my trousers, I am back to routinely feeling cold and hungry. I am used to that but, especially with such international travel and seeing all kinds of people and places, there's always a sense of wondering if I might like someone else's life, so long as my wife and kids could be along with me for that change.

It's not entirely clear I am back in Scotland: HMRC (who handle UK income tax) are now engaging a specialist team to convince their computer that, with my living in Aberdeen and working for an Edinburgh-based employer, I should be taxed as a resident of Scotland. The computer thinks differently. Welcome to software projects for the public sector, Her Majesty's Government has quite a record on commissioning those. An ex-colleague once had similar trouble, having their computer believe that they lived in England.

The final leg of my journey, from Dublin Airport, wasn't the most impressive. I had to come all the way groundside to achieve the transit, though with no need to pick up my bag at the carousel. Then, the Loganair flight was substantially delayed, eventually we were taken out to look at our airplane for a while from the bus then, from inside the airplane, I got to watch through the window as they repeatedly loaded luggage, unloaded it, loaded different luggage, etc. They seemed quite cheerful about it all though, and I turned out to be one of those who won the lottery of having their bag come along. At least it was better than watching the handling at Manchester, where a guy would set the bags tumbling down a long metal staircase onto the concrete below, and that's the part they do in open view of passengers.

Setting out from Manila wasn't the most impressive either. That flight was also delayed and check-in was very slow given all the overseas workers who needed their employment documentation checked. My own check-in was less smooth than usual as, I think from what I could infer from the conversations in Filipino, they worked on the thorny question of if British citizens need a visa to visit Aberdeen.

Last weekend, I swam in the Verde Island Passage again. I love swimming around in the sea, it feels so natural. Were I to settle here someday, I would definitely look to do so somewhere I could make a habit of it, this is an island nation. On my first afternoon back in the sea, the view out to the horizon was lovely: the sea was calm, there was some sun and cloud, and the surface shared the palette of the sky, just differently arranged. The coastline is mountainous, in the distance the peaks behind each other faded progressively into mistiness.

On the following morning, while we swam, striped fish joined us, even splashed a bit. The water wasn't as clear as in some places, though I could see my feet fine, so it was nice to see the patterned fish, which seemed inoffensive. Admittedly, a reason that I like to stay afloat, my feet up off the bottom, is so I don't step on a stonefish or similar. I am not a local so I figure that I ought to be doubly cautious.

I swam rather northeast of last time, over on the other side of the strait, nearer Tayabas Bay. The water was distinctly warmer, perhaps also saltier. At times, I could feel a warmer surface layer, my legs being down in colder water, and it reminded me of when I had done work for the US military on sonar propagation where, of course, changes in temperature or salinity could refract and reflect the sound. It had been interesting to learn about water layers and currents. I don't know why the water seems so different maybe fifty kilometres away. I would be interested to study a detailed map of water temperatures around the Philippine coastlines, one must exist.

Of course, vendors were as aggressive as ever, a couple of no's didn't typically suffice. A couple of times, while standing on the beach, facing the ocean and soon to enter it, we were offered a selection of kitchen knives (well, I noticed the cleavers, etc., maybe they also offered balisongs).

On the way to the beach, we stopped to see Taal Lake, which is in a large crater. R. reported that Volcano Island therein looked a rather different shape since her last visit, before the latest large eruption. The island was smoking rather heartily for us: the lake may be pretty but it is nice not to be living there.

I have made camp in Terminal 2 of Manchester Airport. I can't claim to be impressed by the experience so far. In the US, transferring from terminal 3 would have involved a monorail or somesuch. Here, it was a fair walk, punctuated by an unexpected elevator ride, which was fine for me, being fairly fit and able-bodied and in no hurry, but I suspect hardly ideal for some. Part of the walk involved moving walkways that weren't moving. Being back in England, I again violated the local dogs must be carried rule, I simply didn't have one handy.

There are bright sides. For example, the transfer between terminals did not include the Heathrow experience of a crowded bus, I have already noted to myself not to book a claustrophobic person such an itinerary. And, I am not one of the poor souls who booked a vacation with TUI (Live Happy), I got to walk past the long queue stretching well out of the terminal.

The flight into Manchester had a safety information card as strange as usual. Some of them appear to tell me to throw the baby down the burning staircase, or similar. This one appeared to tell me that, if one wing of the aircraft is buried in the ground then I ought not use my false teeth. Fortunately, these circumstances tend not to arise.

Terminal 2 is fairly unwelcoming but gets kudos for hassle-free wifi. I treated myself to an almond croissant and a latte at Prêt à Manger, thus briefly sampling the life of the fancy people I see. These days it seems to be simply Pret, presumably because it is now even cooler. Outside a motley selection of groundside stores there are but a few chairs, none near a power outlet. I have plugged in by situating myself atop a metal heating grate by an exterior door, near the fellow who welcomes the UEFA VIPs, not that I realized any might be coming. Though, from what I have seen, none have. Perhaps nobody knows that day and hour but he keeps a lookout anyway.

Near international arrivals was a foreign lady who was most upset with her interlocutor, who remained unknown to me at the other end of her cellphone call. With her being alone with luggage, I wondered if she had some choice words to share about a boyfriend or somesuch. As she did not seem to be at a loss, I did the English thing of pretending that her dramatic conversation had gone without notice. I can telephone people who know about how to get around the city and such but she appeared to have a course of action and I was glad to leave her to it.

That's the second time in a row that my first leg from Knoxville failed to leave approximately on time because of mechanical issues. That's also at least the second time in a row that a food and drink vendor in a British airport terminal failed to be able to offer the listed menu item I asked for. I have now arrived in Britain, though rather slow-baked during the oddly hot long-haul leg, and too delayed to pick up the keys to my flat today. Connecting may have been smoother had there been any gate agents or other information around (and their computer can reach me by SMS) upon my late arrival at O'Hare but it took me many minutes to even be able to talk to somebody who had a clue and most of them take ages because they are on hold to the other remote people they need. The trend toward destaffing airports, especially of anybody who can do anything, leaves rough edges exposed, at least for those of us not reliant on smartphone apps.

I was thinking back to where I've lived over my life. I was born in Urmston in Manchester, my parents moved to a village in mid-Cornwall, I read for my degree in Cambridge and got a summer job there for my last break. After graduating, I moved to Columbus, Ohio, back to Cambridge, England, back to Ohio again: the cities of Columbus and Delaware, then rural outside Marysville. After that, New England: Providence, Rhode Island, then Belmont, Massachusetts. From there I took a job in Dundee, Scotland, lived in two different villages in Perthshire, moved here to Tennessee, first to a short-lease apartment, then a house, and am now to move to Aberdeen, Scotland. Quite a mix of rural and not. A result of these moves is that my eldest child attended seven different schools: two in Ohio, one in Rhode Island, two in Massachusetts, two in Scotland. We ensured that the children never had to change high school.

This lunchtime I drank a beer with an ex-neighbor. They sold their house, loaded their pickup truck with their most desired possessions, and are off to Northern California to buy a fifth-wheel trailer and live among the redwoods. Sounds nice. They're retired, thinking about supplementing their social security income by teaching guitar. With luck, it will work out idyllically.

Again, the segment of the year comes when I have to care about mowing the yard. It grew up a whole lot while I was away on vacation, enough for my mower's battery to die before it got all the way through, yesterday. I restarted this morning but a neighbor soon came over to talk, then rain started, so I guess it'll have to wait yet to be finished.

I am now back home, having returned from the Philippines. For my time in the National Capital Region, on my last visit I stayed in Airbnbs in the cities of Manila then Taguig, this time I stayed in Makati then Pasay. Mostly I walked around and enjoyed a good range of SE Asian cuisine, also a couple of good burritos.

After takeoff from Manila, I saw clusters of high-rises and wondered if they were mostly the business districts of such cities. The ANA staff are good, for their flights I was on 787s, except for the 777 from Narita to O'Hare. For that first ANA flight, regarding what I previously mentioned, I wondered if perhaps I ought to have added the dried seaweed to the cold noodles in broth, rather than to the salmon teriyaki. After the calamansi of Filipino cuisine, I drank a couple of honeyed kabosu juice on my flights back.

There were a couple of brief power cuts while I was in Oriental Mindoro. I did not notice any earthquakes coincident with Taal erupting again, though I had been awoken by an earthquake on my previous visit. This time, I got to appreciate more of the coastal waters, they have everything from corals to turtles, though the water still feels cooler than I would have expected.

There was a marked contrast in returning from the provinces to the capital, taking a morning swim in a place with geckos, even frogs, then moving on to, that evening, being in a tiny 17th-floor apartment near the Mall of Asia. In the malls I still find it strange to see the shoppers with their pet dogs that must wear diapers to be allowed in. For that last high-rise apartment, it was also odd to see some ladies wearing pajamas for visiting the stores around it.