State of alarm?

By the time you read this, you may have heard that the Spanish government has declared a “state of alarm” and is meeting today, Saturday, to decide exactly what that means. If you are interested in more details, check out the English language version of the Spanish newspaper El Pais.

In Madrid, the hardest-hit place in Spain so far, it has meant shutting down everything except grocery stores, butchers, bakeries and the like, as well as pharmacies and newsstands. This is a big blow to Spain’s national pastimes of cafe sitting and tapas eating. There are going to be some serious withdrawal symptoms.

Chris and I did some cafe sitting yesterday just to make sure we got it in before the hammer came down. Today, to celebrate the state of alarm, we are walking one town over, to Orio, to have a nice meal on the beach since that may not be possible for a few weeks. As the kids have explained, there is already no school or sports or band for the next two weeks. We are going to be a very close-knit family by the time this is over– if we don’t kill each other first.

In all seriousness, the general tenor here in Zarautz is fairly relaxed (despite Henry’s comments to the contrary). People are concerned, but there is not a sense of panic, at least not that I have noticed. Spaniards are normally close-talkers and touch each other more than Americans, and we’ve noticed a change in those behaviors, but it is sunny today and this morning the malecón (the concrete boardwalk on the beach) was busy with folks walking and talking, just a little further away from each other than normal.

Given the situation in Spain, we can’t really go anywhere except the US (our idiot president’s so-called travel ban from Europe does not apply to US citizens; it doesn’t even apply to British citizens, which is just weird), and if we go home we’ll have to go into quarantine for two weeks. Frankly, I’d rather just sit tight, enjoy the beach and the mountains, the cheap wine and the fresh seafood, and just wait this out. As long as the Spanish government doesn’t kick us out, that’s what we plan to do.

So, please, don’t be alarmed, not for us at least.

Coronavirus

Here people are freaking out about the Coronavirus. It’s really annoying because now we still have school, but they’re just going to send us the classwork. The only thing that’s fun about school is hanging out with my friends, so know it’s going to suck. Also, pretty much all sports are stopping one by one, in Europe and the U.S. So I have two weeks of boredom, so that’s going to be so fun!

I think people are overreacting. It’s infected fewer people and has a smaller death percentile than the flu. The only people that it kills are old people, little children, and people with health problems already. Everyone else will just have flu-like symptoms, and then they’ll be fine. Schools are shutting down, and everyone is overreacting.

I know it is dangerous but only to old people or people with health problems. I plan on doing the school work I get, read, work on some statistical projects I’m working on, play basketball, and play video games (if I can).

All my sports and band have been cancelled, so that’s annoying. Pretty much all sports have also been cancelled or suspended including the NBA, Spanish soccer, Italian soccer, English soccer, French soccer, MLS, MLB, March Madness, XFL, and many more. The only sport is darts. Who wants to watch that?

I predict that the Coronavirus will end up like the flu. You take vaccines so that it limits the effects, and then just get through it. This craziness probably will be done by the start of the next school year, hopefully for college football’s sake.

I am O.K.

It doesn’t feel like a pandemic

As we’ve all heard on the news, the corona virus is alive and spreading all over the world. Interestingly enough, I am not really left feeling worried about my health. Maybe it’s for the fact that I won’t die if I get it because I don’t have any respiratory illnesses or I just haven’t seen the damage with my own eyes. This is typical for any sort of disaster you hear about on the news. But, in fact, this pandemic has affected my life in a large way.

Today during patio time, I was talking with some of my classmates about the government closing the schools because of the virus. Apparently they thought that if the neighboring province closed down schools, so would Guipuzkoa. I guess I didn’t really think a lot about it; I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I certainly didn’t think this would happen. Just the other day, my family and I were joking about how if we don’t have school we’ll do a lot of cleaning and maybe try and get out of the house, things like that to spend the time.

During the second-to-last hour of the school day today, Thursday, my tutor and Information class teacher told us in Basque that they would most likely be closing schools for the next day and time after that. He said he was 99 percent sure. At one o’clock when we were supposed to get something, we didn’t, and then he started talking, and at first I’m pretty sure I thought we still had school because some people were groaning. But, turns out we didn’t have school for two whole weeks!

Then I learned we didn’t have school the next day, and we had our last class. In that class, we didn’t really do much, but we never really do. Everyone packed up their pounds of textbooks, and I couldn’t even fit all of mine in my tiny backpack. People started leaving early and everyone was talking in the hallways. It truly was crazy. We still had after school that day, and after the bell rang, it was like last-day-of-school chaos. It was essentially crazy because to most people this is just a super-long vacation with homework to do.

But, I think that some people were a little worried about what was going to happen. I personally wonder if the Basque Country will end up being quarantined. As well, I am a little worried about my older relatives, so keep washing your hands! I’m sure you can find lots of different songs to sing while you do so.

I’m looking at two weeks without school. When I say that, I mean online work on my computer every school day, normal chores, no volleyball practice or games, and possibly no band practice. So virtually nothing to do. I honestly think I will be very bored, but I plan on opening up my creative mind and cleaning my room. I can also practice volleyball out in the yard. It’s really crazy for this to happen, especially since I’m not in the U.S., but I am positive we’ll get through this.

Meanwhile, when I get back to school I will truly appreciate it.

The sea takes back

During my sunrise walk this morning, I was stunned when I saw how the beach had changed overnight. The dunes on the eastern portion of Zarautz beach had clearly been attacked by the sea during high tide last night. I don’t think this is normal; perhaps it’s a repercussion of climate change. Whatever the cause, the effect was quite remarkable.

Here the sand was pushed up onto the beach, resulting in a wall of sand. If you look closely you can see a buried staircase.
Fence posts that once kept people off the dunes have been washed away along with the dunes in the background.
This stairway used to lead to the beach. Now it’s about a six foot drop.
Just 100 yards away the bottom of this staircase is now buried.
So much sand washed away that the bones of an old ship were visible on the shore.

My sabbatical magnum opus

For those loosely following my sabbatical progress through this blog, I proclaim that I have now created my magnum opus when it comes to my somewhat pathetic attempts at video game/interactive fiction production.

The reason the link below is my magnum opus is because I made it myself in the development tool that has been causing me the most frustration: GameMaker Studio 2. As I think I’ve said before, unlike Ink and Twine, which are narrative-based, GameMaker is a video game programming software that is based on creating two-dimensional visuals. And, as I’ve also said before, something about programming for visual content has made GameMaker much more challenging for me. I can program stories fairly easily (not necessarily good stories, but stories). I can, ironically, envision them. Visual interactions are harder for me to program. I can’t easily “see” what the code needs to do to make the visuals work. That seems odd to me, but it is my current self-diagnosis.

When I say “I made it myself” in the previous paragraph, I am differentiating it from the tutorials I followed to make previous games like Spacerocks and Breakout. For this one, I started from scratch. I had an idea of what I wanted rather than copying someone else’s ideas. I drew all the little characters and the background myself. I blundered through coding the interactions and motions I wanted based on the numerous tutorials I have attempted in the last six months. When I was stuck, I searched the internet for snippets of code or videos of people doing something similar or forums where others were asking similar questions to the ones I had. I pieced this work together into a shambling Frankenstein’s monster of code that would make any serious programmer as terrified as the original readers of Mary Shelley’s book.

But it’s my monster, my magnum opus, and I’m ridiculously proud of having made it. Educationally, it returns to material I’ve covered before (how to quote sources correctly) but in a much different way.

Without further introduction, then, here is Signal and Cite.

Two days in Normandy

Last Thursday we left Paris for Normandy by slow train. This was just as well since the weather in Paris had turned from what we enjoyed, partial sun and moderately cool temperatures, to what we had expected for this time of year, cold and rain.

The rain, apparently, has been a prominent influence in Normandy this year. As we rolled through the French countryside, the fields were sodden and often flooded. There were lakes where there should not have been. We could tell by the trees standing in the water.

Our base of operations in Normandy was Bayeux, in the former British sector for those of you keeping score at home, one of only two major towns in Normandy that escaped bombing by both sides during the war, so it still has its medieval charm and its cathedral.

Bayeux getting medieval
Notre-Dame de Bayeux (above and right)

The cathedral, Notre-Dame de Bayeux, is as big as its charred sister in Paris, has similar flying buttresses to support the roof, and the lower portions of its two main towers and its crypt have been standing since the 11th century. Just to put that in perspective, when you are walking in those portions of the cathedral you are walking where people who knew and talked to William the Conqueror, he of 1066 fame, once walked and talked. The interior also has some playful features like the different decorative motifs on each of the arches in the main sanctuary, one of which is a collection of devil heads– a prudent reminder for the faithful at their prayers, I suppose.

Tapestry detail: building the armada

Also in Bayeux is the Bayeux Tapestry. I will be the first to admit that I thought a museum dedicated to a tapestry would be a serious snooze-fest, but I was wrong, wrong, wrong. First, there’s the fact that the thing is 70 meters long by about 50 cm tall, and it is all rolled out for your enjoyment in a darkened room with an explanatory narration that follows you as you follow the tapestry. The story on the tapestry is the immediate backstory leading up to the Battle of Hastings and William’s eventual coronation. Not to be a spoiler, but Harold II doesn’t come out looking too good. Well, that, and he dies. The whole thing was a propaganda piece made not long after William’s success for his largely illiterate subjects.

In addition to the viewing of the tapestry itself, there is a short film giving more information about its construction and history and a small museum that includes a number of interesting panels, displays, and even dioramas (which, by the way, are much better than what the Jesuits at Azpeitia could come up with). I was just really impressed with the presentation and design of the museum as well as the artifact itself. A pleasant surprise all ’round.

Rene shows us the view from the Higgins boats

The main reason, however, that we went to Normandy was to see the landing areas, both beaches and drop zones, for the D-Day invasion. We had hired a guide, a Dutch WWII enthusiast named Rene, for an all-day tour on Friday to drive us around to different sights and give us historical insights as we went. The invasion zone is spread across 60 miles and still consists mostly of one-lane roads, so it was very helpful to have someone who knew the lay of the land.

Can you see the stained-glass paratroopers?
Pont du Hoc: there was a really big German cannon right there

It was a raw, rainy, blustery day, perfect for Normandy on leap day. Rene picked us up around 9:15, and we went first to St. Mare Eglise to see the Airborne Museum and the town itself, including a tour of its small church made famous by a hanging Red Buttons in the movie The Longest Day. We had lunch there as well, crepes and croque monsieurs in a bistro on the square before heading to Utah beach, Pont du Hoc, and then Omaha beach, all in the American sector.

Of the three, Pont du Hoc was the most arresting. It was a German gun emplacement for four WWI era 150 mm cannon that could fire on both Utah and Omaha. This is where the US Rangers had to climb up straight up 100 ft cliffs using grappling hooks and ladders under German fire (also shown in The Longest Day). There are still shell holes as large as cars on top of the cliff and a fully intact German observation bunker that can be explored. The burnt roof beams inside the bunker from the US flamethrowers used to clear it are still visible. That surprised me given that 75 years have passed; I can’t imagine they’ll hang on for much longer.

Omaha beach is terrifying and mind bending for what happened there, but there’s not much left to see. A few small, stark bunkers cling to the dunes, but time is having its way with them.

The American cemetery at Colleville-Sur-Mer, our last stop, is exactly the opposite experience. Time seems to have stopped there. The grounds are immaculate, and even on this drizzly day it was beautiful and full of life because most of the landscaping is done with evergreens. The grass may have looked even brighter green against the grey backdrop of the sky. The cemetery is a grid of white marble crosses and stars of David with two main walkways in the shape of a cross and two large memorials, one a semicircle of columns and the other a small circular chapel. The whole affair is perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean at the northeastern end of Omaha beach.

Colleville-Sur-Mer

We only had an hour there because we arrived around 4 PM and they close at 5 PM in the winter. We strolled the grounds while Rene pointed out the markers of some soldiers with notable stories, a set of twins, a father and son, a group of African American nurses, and lamented the fact that we couldn’t walk on the grass to get a better view because last summer’s hordes had destroyed the lawns. Even so, strangely, I found myself not wanting to leave. It was so beautiful and so peaceful that I’m not afraid to be cliched about it. I guess that’s what a cemetery is supposed to be, but most of the ones I have visited have failed in those respects. This one works. It’s like the archetype of the cemetery, the sublime example. It’s the kind of cemetery that makes you think, “I could spend eternity here,” even when you know in your rational mind that that isn’t what happens in anyone’s belief system. Nobody thinks your body just lies in the ground admiring the view once you are buried, but, all the same, it might be okay in this place.

On our last day in Normandy, we visited the beach at Arromanches-les-Bains, which was on Gold beach in the British sector. There is a 360° movie theater on top of the cliffs next to the town that puts on a stirring 19-minute film of documentary footage on nine screens. We shared the experience with only three other wayward tourists, and it was stirring. How can one not get a little choked up when Sir Winston starts growling, “We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets . . . we shall never surrender” in booming surround sound.

Henry and me with a Sherman at Arromanches; Henry’s the tall one
A piece of the Mulberry near shore; the white caps on the horizon mark the man-made breakwater

The other impressive item at Arromanches is the remains of the “Mulberry harbor,” a breakwater and harbor that the British and Americans made from whole cloth with scuttled ships and hunks of concrete the length of a football field towed from the UK and sunk off shore. I had read about these many times, but I had never realized the enormity of the task or the size of the harbor itself. When I first saw a portion of the breakwater from the land, I thought it was a tug towing a series of barges on long cables, but then it just kept getting longer and longer. The breakwater was 1.5 miles long. There were four steel and concrete piers within it for cargo ships to unload onto, and these could support the weight of Sherman tanks. This was a massive engineering marvel in the turbulent seas of the English Channel. There was another Mulberry in the American sector, but a storm destroyed it two weeks after it was built. Seventy-five years later, the harbor at Arromanches is also a ruin, but not so much that you can’t see how impressive it was.

So, yeah, Normandy was cool.

Paris museum overview

(As is often the case, if you click on the title above, you’ll see a new image in the banner.)

Louvre: ancient stuff and lots of it; huge, enormous, massive, overwhelming. We took the 90-minute dash of a tour in English and glad we did. It would have taken us days to find Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, and Mona Lisa. We would have needed a basket of breadcrumbs and maybe a compass. Instead, we had a lovely, slightly disheveled woman who reminded me of Professor Trelawney from Harry Potter. She seemed to have an unending well of patience as she guided a group of 20 through the madhouse of the Louvre trying to explain why these classic works of art were indeed classic and even giving us a brief history of portraiture from Eastern Orthodox iconography to the Renaissance so we could put the Mona Lisa in context when we finally waded through the hoards to see it. We roamed around a little after the tour on our own, but mostly we were just bewildered. And if that is what the Louvre is like in February, I can’t even imagine summer.

As already mentioned, we also stopped in to view the gigantic Water Lilies at Musee de l’Orangerie. Again, so glad to have come in the off-season. They must limit entrance times or something in the summer. I don’t know how you’d actually see anything otherwise. We were only sharing with a few dozen others.

On our last full day in Paris, we visited the Musee d’Orsay and the Pompidou Center. On the off chance that anyone wants to take my advice on museum visits in Paris, I’d say if you only have the time to visit one, go with the d’Orsay. The impressionist and post-impressionist collection is incredible. Around every corner, there’s a painting you’ll recognize, and the ones you don’t recognize are just as beautiful. I still can’t fully comprehend how they make the reflections of the light on water look like that. I stared at some of them until my eyes hurt trying to get a hint. Then there are the multiple Van Gogh self portraits over time which are heartbreaking when seen in close succession. That man was in some serious mental pain. Aside from these paintings, there is also an impressive collection of sculpture, some truly massive realist paintings from Gustave Courbet, and a set of art nouveau rooms which must have been J.R.R. Tolkien’s inspiration for the Elven refuge of Rivendell. In addition to all this, the building itself, a train station built in 1900, is just fun to be in. Finally, go early in the morning and in the off season for best results, though your mileage may vary.

The Pompidou Center is one of those buildings that looks like it has been turned inside out. There’s one in London too, but I don’t remember the name of it at the moment. Some of the art on the inside seems to match this theme as well since the Pompidou’s collection focuses on modern and contemporary art. Think Georges Braque, Picasso, Sonia Delaunay, Paul Klee, Moholy-Nagy, Mark Rothko, and that ilk. Then there’s Warhol and Claes Oldenburg and related pop artists. From there, the Pompidou Center’s fourth floor launches into some seriously conceptual art of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Good on them for trying to be on the cutting edge, but I must admit I think I fell off that edge more than once. It’s the kind of art (mostly sculptural) that makes you go, “Huh?”– which is probably the point. It turns out that I prefer my art to make me go “Wow!” instead of “Huh?” but there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in my philosophies. When you get bored with the “Huh?” art, you can leave the galleries and scurry through the human Habitrail that hangs off one facade of the building. Turns out, they really are as fun as they look in the hamster-sized version.

There are a bazillion more art museums in Paris, but these are the ones we visited in between strolling the streets of the city and taking in the art that is Paris itself.

P.S. to a previous P.S. I am now officially going on record to say that Paris no longer deserves its reputation as a place where snooty French people refuse to speak English to American yokels. I know three phrases in French, and one of them is “I’m sorry; I don’t know how to speak French,” and the people we interacted with in Paris were lovely and helpful and sometimes even self-deprecating about their inability to speak English. If you are not a an ugly American, you will have Paris in the palm of your hand. Just be nice and self-deprecating yourself about your inability to speak French, and you’ll get kindness back in spades.

In Paris

I am writing this in Paris. I am actually in Paris. It’s amazing! We’ve done a lot of walking these past few days, which is a little tiring, but after all the best way to see Paris. Turns out, it’s pretty awesome to just get to experience the city. It honestly is the City of Lights, as we experienced last night.

We’ve been eating a ton of super amazing food including sweet AND savory crepes, profiteroles, steak and fries, etc, etc. Thanks to my mom we’ve had a restaurant reservation every day, which makes it extremely more pleasant to find food. I say this because we have had a lot of bad experiences with trying to find someplace to eat in new places in the past.

When ordering delicious pastries for breakfast, you may have to use your French, meaning not me. But, I have sort of fallen more in love with this language, and I think for my 14th year, I’ll spend some more time learning it to then be able to spend a year abroad in Paris! My future is spread out before me, but honestly I just love this place.

For example, we visited the Eiffel Tower and saw the whole city spread out, and then we walked to the Arc de Triomphe, oh and had macarons again. I am not a fan of floral macarons. For future reference, I will not be getting the orange blossom macarons again.

We also went to the Louvre and saw the three very famous sisters, the Mona Lisa, the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and the Venus de Milo. They were definitely very majestic. That museum is huge, but in that way, pretty cool.

We also saw the famed Water Lily paintings in the Musee de la Orangerie, which were huge and really beautiful. The funny thing about that experience is that they were the only works in the museum at the moment.

It’s been a little surprising at how much English I hear in the streets, whether it be British or American. But, then I remember or am told that it is actually a huge global metropolis, so obviously you’re going to have many languages. Speaking of which, most of the French people we’ve spoken to, or pretty much all, have amazing English with a thin accent, which is impressive.

So far, and we have one day left, my favorite part about Paris has been the atmosphere and simply knowing I am in Paris because it’s so cool. It’s just a completely different world with the wrought-iron balconies hanging off of tall stone buildings over fancy retail stores or souvenir shops. There’s also the Siene splitting off the island of Ile de la Cite and providing many bridges to break up the streets. Not to mention Montramarte with its hills and magical looking buildings. I concur it’s been a very good experience! I love you, Paris!

Cars in Paris

As you all know, we are in Paris, France, and I have been taking pictures of cars that catch my eye. I took a lot of pictures because there are people here that have nice cars. I chose six cars to write about out of the many that I have taken pictures of.

Citroën 2cv in Montmartre

This model of car is very famous. It was first designed after World War 2. In a BBC show called, The People’s Car, James May (The Top Gear and Grand Tour presenter) talks in depth about it. It has an interesting design and is pretty small. I really like it in this shade of blue.

1970s Lamborghini Espada in the streets of Paris

I first saw this car in the roundabout of the Arc de Triomphe, but I couldn’t get a picture of it as it sped by. I was annoyed that I couldn’t get a photo. When we were walking back to the AirBnB in the neighborhood of Saint Germain de Pres I saw it and I was surprised. I snapped a few photos, and my dad asked,”What kind of car is it?” As I looked I realized it was a Lambo. You can’t see the side view in this picture, but it has a beautiful design, and its engine noise is music to my ears.

A Range Rover next to the Cafe Deux Magots

This car isn’t very pretty. It looks pretty cool with its matte black paint job and tinted windows. I saw a driver come out of it and pick up some rich guy. It was waiting for the guy next to the Cafe Deux Magots which we went by because it’s where some famous philosophers ate and talked about philosophical things.

Lamborghini Aventador roadster and Ferrari California off of the Champs-Elysees

These are two beautiful cars that I really like. They both are for rent for a drive, as you can see by the dents. The gold one is a Lamborghini Aventador roadster, and it is one of my favorite cars. The red one is a Ferrari California and is also very cool. The only people that can probably afford these were the people who had their kids walking down the street with Gucci track suits and Balenciaga shoes. Although, they are very cool.

Old Fiat 500 taking pictures with the Eiffel Tower

This car is pretty funny looking. I would put it in the same group as a Mini Cooper. It’s a small, cute-looking car that is very weak. The funniest thing was that it just pulled up next to the Eiffel Tower. I think the color fits it well and made it pop out from the gray bleak morning.

Original Mini Cooper close to the Eiffel Tower

I have put a lot of old cars on this list because I know my audience. This Mini Cooper is tiny. There is a picture of me next it, and it is at my waist. I was suprised when I saw it because everyone knows what car this is. I myself don’t think it looks that cool. I like big muscle cars or super cars, but I respect your opinion for liking it.

I have a lot more pictures of cars from this trip and the trip I went on in Germany. When my sister and mom take a million pictures of flowers or “artistic” pictures I take pictures of cars I think are cool. I look around the streets when I go out walking for cool cars. I might show off some more of my camera roll car collection in future posts.