The world according to Keith

The saga continues...

Sat, 14 Mar 2009 18:26:01 +0000

I wrote in a previous blog entry that my landlord had kindly agreed to let myself and Heike out of our six month contract due to problems with the flat that eventually led to us moving out. Whilst this is true, it seems that there was rather less kindness involved than we had imagined, since no sooner had we moved out than he started demanding that we pay an extra £360 or he would take us to court for the full six months rent, including bills, even though we no longer live there and he had previously agreed to let us out of the contract early without any deductions from our deposit.

Now, two months on after an serious falling out and exchange of letters, we are still trying to recover our initial £750 deposit and the landlord is claiming that we owe him nearly twice this amount (i.e. the original deposit plus an additional £720). The dispute has since been passed on to The Dispute Service, which is an independent body that is supposed to arbitrate such disagreements, and we hope to receive their final decision in about a month’s time. If the decision goes our way then this should pretty much put an end to the issue, although there is nothing to stop the landlord from trying his luck in the small claims court, in which case things could be drawn out for another few months while we go through the legal process.

Apart from the initial shock and amazement that the landlord could be so two-faced and vindictive (he phoned up and starting ranting and raving at me, and again in person when I met him to hand over the keys), the whole episode has been very stressful and time consuming—not to mention the financial aspect. Of course, the final outcome will depend not just upon what was agreed, but what we can give evidence or proof of in writing. Fortunately, we retained copies of all the e-mails and letters that were exchanged with the agent and landlord around the time the agreement was made, and it is pretty clear from this that the landlord has been inconsistent in his demands and is now trying to change his story. I can’t say much more until the matter is resolved, but I hope that it will at least be clear to the independent case examiner (and/or judge if it comes to that) that we did everything that was asked of us by the landlord and agent only to be told that he was then changing the terms of the agreement three days after we had already moved out. I’m no legal expert, but this sort of behaviour is totally ridiculous and unfair, so we should stand at least a chance of getting our money back.

On the plus side, the new place is working out great. It’s warm and dry—unlike the old one, which never got above 15ºC, even with the heating on all day, and was riddled with damp—and we have a nice garden for Heike to potter around in, and a spare room where I can work without disturbance. We even have two bathrooms (one en suite and the other with a toilet and shower) which will be great when we have guests over to stay, as well as being useful for when Heike is getting ready for work at some ungodly hour and I’m still lazing in bed! All in all, I’m very glad that we moved out when we did, although if I had had any idea what kind of a stunt the landlord would try to pull we would have toughed it out for another couple of months before moving out with our full deposit (although no doubt he would have found some lame excuse for trying to keep part of it even then).

I guess the moral of this story is (a) don’t move into somewhere on the promise that additional work being carried out unless you have full confidence in the landlord and agent’s ability to deliver (in this case we had some concerns about them from the start, but that’s another story), and (b) don’t agree to anything without getting all the details down in writing, preferably with signatures from both parties to demonstrate consent. No matter how things might seem at the time, there is always the possibility that the other party might change their mind or fail to honour their side of the bargain, in which case it will be very helpful to have everything in writing should you have to take the matter further. Until now, I’ve always thought of justice as a fairly abstract concept, but when it affects you personally, it suddenly seems very real. As a result, I’m determined to hold the landlord to account, regardless of what he’s now trying to claim or how far we have to take it. Let’s see what happens.

New Year in Prague

Thu, 8 Jan 2009 09:40:58 +0000

Instead of buying each another Christmas presents this year, Heike and I decided to spend a few days in Prague for the New Year. You can see some of the pictures we took here.

We arrived in Prague by train from Leipzig in Germany, where we had been staying with Heike’s parents over Christmas. The amazingly over-the-top art deco Hotel Evropa where we were staying, although not exactly luxurious, gave us a good base from which to explore the city. The architecture and history of Prague is quite amazing, and we were able to find plenty to do. The highlights were probably a visit to Prague cathedral, which is part of the castle complex and contains some of the most beautiful stained glass windows I’d ever seen, the fireworks display on New Year’s Day (they hold it at 6pm on the 1st of January rather than midnight on the 31st December so that children can attend), and the Franz Kafka museum, which gave a spooky and surreal trip into the psyche of the famous Czech author (even though he wrote all his works in German, and was censored for many years during the period of communist rule). We also discovered several Outside the museum is a very amusing sculpture of two men peeing into a Czech Republic-shaped pool. (The funny part was that trace out the text of famous Czech literary works with their piss, and you can even send them text messages, which they will spell out instead!)

We weren’t quite prepared for just how commercialised Prague was. It seemed that every street corner, shop and courtyard was dedicated to the purpose of extracting as many tourist dollars as possible, a lot of it on absolute tat, which somewhat detracted from the Bohemian charm of the place. That said, the atmosphere in the cafés, bars and restaurants was just how I’d imagined, and very conducive to thinking about art, politics and philosophy. (A friend of mine who’d visited there recently said he finds it a good place for having philosophical thoughts, which I can understand completely now having been there.)

Another thing we weren’t at all prepared for is how mad the Czechs are about (or with) fireworks. Not only was everyone and his brother letting the things off left right and centre, many of them were exploding right in the middle of the crowd, or in public streets, which made it feel more like a war zone than a Hogmanay celebration! Nowhere was this more apparent than in Wenceslas (he of Good-King fame, although apparently he was only a duke and not a king as the famous Christmas carol would have us believe) Square where our hotel was located, although thankfully we managed to sustain any direct hits, the likes of which dozens of ambulances were standing by for. (I kid you not.)

All in all it was a good break and a nice place to spend a few days, although I do wish that I’d managed to go there some time ago before the place became so commercialised. If you’re thinking of paying a visit, I’d recommend avoiding the busiest times of the year, as Prague is at its nicest when it’s quiet, as it was early on New Year’s Day. And don’t let anybody tell you that it’s really cheap as we found the prices to be on a par with the rest of Europe, if not a little more expensive, although perhaps that was due to the current weakness of the pound, which was almost at parity with the euro, as well as the time of year. I was also amused and perhaps a little insulted to discover at least one Bureau de Change offering separate rates for English and Scottish pounds despite the fact that they are the same currency! (The Scottish pound was worth slightly less in case you were wondering…)

St Andrews no more

Sun, 4 Jan 2009 09:36:56 +0000

As you probably know, Heike and I moved away from St Andrews to Leamington Spa in Warwickshire some months ago, where I’m now studying for a Ph.D. in philosophy at the University of Warwick. (Strangely enough, the university itself isn’t in Warwick at all, but on the outskirts of Coventry, hence the reason we’re living in Leamington… it all makes sense really!)

Having very much enjoyed our stay in Scotland, especially during the summer months when we both had time to enjoy the considerable charms of St Andrews and the surrounding area of my home county of Fife, we were somewhat apprehensive at the thought of moving back down South—especially to an area that goes by the wholly uninspiring name of ‘the Midlands’ and is about as far away from the sea as you can possibly get on this small island. Our fears were partially realised when we discovered that the cosy little flat we’d found for ourselves turned out to be something of a nightmare. Ever since moving it, we’ve had to deal with a string of problems that have culminated in our deciding to move house yet again, this time to another flat in Leamington, which will hopefully be a lot better.

The problems started the day we moved in, when it became apparent that the landlord had failed to clean or inspect the place beforehand, despite having assured us that entire flat would be professionally cleaned. In particular, the carpet was absolutely filthy and there were patches of damp on the living room and bathroom walls, not to mention a terrible smell that I would normally associate with a zoo rather than anywhere fit for human habitation. To add insult to injury, since we were delayed due to traffic on the motorway, the landlord—or rather his agent, who also happens to be his daughter and incredibly difficult to get hold of by phone—couldn’t manage to meet us on the day we moved in and so we had to wait until the following day to try and sort things out. Needless to say, it was all very depressing, and the last thing that you want when trying to settle into a place.

After several frantic phone calls and e-mails, the landlord finally agreed to have the carpets cleaned and look at the damp problems, although we soon discovered that these were just the tip of the iceberg. The tiles around the shower area in the bathroom were literally falling off the wall, and water was running behind the bath through cracks in the grouting. This was most likely the cause of the damp problems and smell, although it took us several weeks to convince the landlord to address the problem, which he finally did by retiling part of the bathroom. Unfortunately, he never got around to finishing the job, and other problems with the toilet, taps and windows, along with the totally inadequate heating (I’d be surprised if the temperature ever gets above 15ºC in here) have never been fixed, and so we decided that it was high time we found somewhere else to live.

The good news is, just before Christmas we managed to find a great two-bedroom basement flat close to the centre of town and are moving in next weekend. The extra room will mean that I can set up a proper office/studio where I can work during the day, and there is a garden where Heike can plant things (vegetables, fruit trees and flowers are currently top of the list). Although the rent is considerably more than we’re currently paying, the extra expense will be worth it as we really need the extra space, not to mention somewhere more pleasant to live. Our currently landlord has thankfully allowed us to get out of our six month tenancy agreement (although you might say this was the least he could do), meaning that we can move without too much additional expense, although the extra time and hassle is something that we could both do without.

Aside from the problems with our accommodation, things are going relatively well. I’m very happy with the supervision I’m receiving here at Warwick, and there is plenty going on that is relevant to my research interests (philosophy of mind and perception). Heike is also settling into her new job in the admissions department at Coventry University, who are planning to send her on trips to Africa and the Netherlands where she will be accompanying some visiting students on a sightseeing trip (I can just imagine the sort of things they’ll be getting up to—good thing that they’ll have Heike to keep them in check!).

I can’t say it’s been easy to settle in as we have hardly had time to catch our breath due to all of the above, and we both still miss St Andrews, which was a great place to live and study. However, the new flat will hopefully feel more like home and allow us to start enjoying life again, as well as making the most of what Leamington has to offer. I expect there will probably be another quiet spell on my blog again as I will be without an Internet connection for the next few weeks, but I’ll try to upload some more news and photos soon.

Best wishes to all, and I hope the New Year finds you in good health and spirits wherever you are!

"I did not have sex with that woman"

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 00:28:31 +0100

Did anyone else notice that Bill Clinton’s supposedly ringing endorsement of Barack Obama as the Democratic party’s candidate for President of the United States contained (at least) two carefully worded phrases that, with the benefit of hindsight, might later be construed as being somewhat less than fully supportive of his wife’s erstwhile opponent?

The first was that his wife Hillary, would do everything in her power to elect him. Notice: to elect him, not to get him elected. The latter might include campaigning vigourously to ensure wholehearted support from throughout the party, contributing to his campaign team, etc. etc. The former includes, well, voting for the Democratic party in the upcoming US elections, which I would have thought was pretty much a given. As far as I can make out, this is the only power that a mere mortal can ever have to elect someone — unless of course you are Jeb Bush and in charge of the Florida recount, but that’s a different story…

The second equally well-honed gem was that Obama was “the best man for the job.” Notice: man, not person. To be honest, I’m not sure whether this was supposed to relate to the job of Democratic nominee or President of the United States, but in either case it doesn’t rule out the possibility that there was in fact a better candidate for the job, namely his wife Hillary, who — as the more astute among you may have noticed — is a woman. So, whilst Bill appeared to be commending Barack as the superior candidate, he in fact made no such claim, and should the latter go on to lose the election in November, he can, without fear of contradiction, claim that he thought Hillary would make a better president all along, and that his comments only applied to the male contenders, namely Obama and McCain. (I was going to say masculine, but that could be taken to all three of them, so I’m sticking with the sex rather than the gender.)

Lest you think I’m being overly suspicious and pedantic over what might appear to be a mere turn of phrase, or slip of the tongue, bear in mind that (a) this man used to be a lawyer, and has (allegedly) studied some philosophy, and so is no stranger to the judicious use of language to make a point that can later be construed quite differently, and (b) he has form. Anyone who remembers the whole Lewinsky affair cannot fail to recall the ingenious web of linguistic duplicity that he wove, including such gems as “I did not have sex with that woman”, which sparked a whole debate as to whether an act of fellatio constituted “sex”, and my personal favourite, “that depends on what the meaning of ‘is’ is” — an epithet worthy of a linguistics professor. Plus, of course, Clinton is a born politician with a talent — nay, a gift — for using words in a way that allows him to worm his way out of what he initially appeared to be saying only to claim that he in fact meant something quite different all along — a lamentable but apparently necessary part of contemporary public life.

So, whilst it may have appeared that Bill and Hillary were offering Barack Obama their full-throated enthusiastic blessing, the reality is that they were (perhaps unsurprisingly) careful to say nothing that could be used against them in the event of a Republican victory in November. And by saying nothing that was obviously detrimental to their opponent’s (by which I mean Obama’s, not McCain’s) chances of getting elected, they did nothing that could subsequently harm their standing in the ensuing contest for Democratic presidential nominee in the 2012 primaries — a brilliantly produced piece of political theatre indeed!

Normal service has been resumed…

Tue, 5 Aug 2008 10:56:39 +0100

Apologies to anyone who has been trying to access my web site, blog or RSS feeds over the last couple of weeks. Unfortunately, the site was off-line for a few days due hosting problems connected with Apple’s transition from its old .Mac service (pronounced ‘dot-mac’) to MobileMe, a new suite of web applications for Macintosh and iPhone users. For some reason this caused comments to stop working on my site followed by the entire site becoming unavailable due to problems with the www.keithwilson.org domain name I’m using. I was able to implement a temporary fix by having my domain redirect to a copy of my web site hosted at web.me.com, but this only worked for the top-level domain, causing any incoming links such as Google search results and RSS feeds to break. In any case, all the problems have since been resolved and the site should now be functioning as normal.

The timing of the outage was especially annoying as I had just managed to get one of the posts in my philosophy blog into the Philosophers’ Carnival, a bi-weekly collection of blogs for philosophers. Unfortunately, the lack of a working comments feature followed by the site going off-line meant that fewer people were able to read or respond to the post than I might have hoped, but it was nice to have one of my posts included anyway. (Coincidentally, the same edition of Philosophers’ Carnival was hosted by Megan Kime, a friend of a friend, whose blog was also featured.)

As a long time subscriber to Apple’s .Mac service, and an enthusiastic supporter of Apple Macs in general, I was disappointed to see Apple release a product that was so poorly tested, as well as the misleading way that it advertised its ability to ‘push’ e-mail, calendar and contact updates for virtually instant data synchronisation between phones, computers and the web. To be fair, this was partly due to the vast numbers of people signing up for Apple’s new iPhone, with or without MobileMe, but launching both products at the same time just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen—something that Apple itself has since admitted, apologising for the debacle by offering all subscribers an extra month’s free service. Their claims regarding the ‘push’ capabilities have also been scaled back until the company implements fully push-compatible desktop apps, hopefully via a future software update.

All in all, it was a timely reminder (if any were needed) that computers are all well and good when everything works properly, but are a major pain in the a*** when it doesn’t. That said, I’m reasonably happy with MobileMe now that everything is back up and running and look forward to some of the updates (e.g. support for sending large files by e-mail) coming down the pipeline. For that select band of people who own a Mac (or even a PC) and an iPhone, this service is a must, and I hope to be able to count myself amongst their number in the relatively near future (I’m just waiting for my local branch of Carphone Warehouse to receive stock of the 16Gb model, which looks like it will take another month or so—those things are selling like hot cakes!).

I will post some more updates as to what’s been going on here soon, but am currently engrossed in writing my masters dissertation on the philosophy of time-consciousness, which doesn’t leave much time for blogging. Suffice it to say that things are going to plan with my impending relocation to Warwickshire, where I will be starting my PhD at the end of September, which is all very exciting.

Trip to Loch Tay

Mon, 2 Jun 2008 18:38:49 +0100

Just after the end of my exams (well, theoretically, anyway — the actual end wasn’t until the following Monday after we ended up sitting one of the exams for a second time to answer additional questions were left out the original exam due to a departmental mess-up), Heike and I decided to head up to Perthshire for a little bit of R&R after what had been, for me at least, and by association for Heike too, an extremely busy time.

We hadn’t arranged anything in advance and more or less just jumped on a bus with the intention of heading for Loch Tay, which we had heard was nice and not too far away (thanks to Ingi for the recommendation!). We ended up staying the night in the village of Acharn on the banks of the Loch, where we found a small farmhouse bed and breakfast for just £20 each per night, which was half the price of neighbouring Kenmore. It was great to get away from all the stresses and strains of the past few months and to enjoy the peace and tranquility that comes from being in the wide open spaces of a more natural setting.

Although it took longer to get to Loch Tay by public transport than we expected, and we only stayed for one night, we thoroughly enjoyed the visit and did manage to stop off at a few places (Perth, Aberfeldy and Kenmore) along the way. I took some pictures of the Loch and surrounding area, where we went walking along the hillside, although I didn’t get a shot of the local Inn, which was claimed to be the oldest in Scotland (1572, if I remember correctly), where Robert Burns himself, impressed by the local scenery, had penned a verse on the wall in his own hand. Now you don’t get much more authentically Scottish than that!

All in all, it was definitely worth a visit, and highly recommended, especially if you have your own transport, in which case it’s much easier to get to.

The seven signs of ageing

Sat, 31 May 2008 14:18:51 +0100

Having reached the advanced age of 37 just over a month ago (yes, really!), I thought that I might jump-start my somewhat forlorn blog page with a few semi-humorous reflections on the effects of ageing. Those of you lucky enough to have already reached a similar or even more advanced level of decrepitude may recognise some of the following symptoms, whilst for those of you for whom 30 still seems a long way off — beware! it’ll come much sooner than you think! — here’s a little taster of what you’ve still got to look forward to (if you’re lucky!)…

1. Memory loss leading to general confusion
The first sign of ageing is undoubtedly the decline of one’s memory. Where you were previously able to reel off all kinds of facts and figures and had little need to keep for diaries or other such memory aids, you increasingly find yourself forgetting people’s names, even when reminded several times, which gets very embarrassing at parties, as well as other important details, such as your own age, which you now have to mentally double-check, or find yourself walking into rooms only to find that you have no idea why you went there. Whereas your brain used to soak up new information and experiences like a sponge, structured learning becomes increasingly difficult, with every new piece of information that you manage to force into your increasingly congested cranium seeming to squeeze out some of your old knowledge. All of this leads towards a sort of generalised state of confusion as you try to remember whether what that terribly important thing that you meant to do was, why it seemed important, and whether anything really matters anyway, leading me nicely onto my second point…

1. Disenfranchisement
To a younger, more idealistic you, the world seemed so full of opportunities and possibilities, and even though much of what went on in it could be better, there was at least the chance that things could change through personal, political or collective action. Now, having been knocked down a few times when your best endeavours didn’t turn out quite the way you’d hoped, you are content to carve out your own little niche within the world in which you can go about your business with relatively little disturbance from other people and the rest of society, whose aims and overall direction seem increasingly distant from your own. The culture in which you grew up, that once seemed like part of the familiar furniture of the world now either seems alien and strange, or has mutated almost beyond recognition in a manner that leads you to despair for the plight of future generations, including your own (virtual or actual) offspring. The only sensible response to this, short of dropping out of society altogether or joining some kind of cult, seems to be to disown the problems of the world and focus on the individual, and in particular yourself. Rather than seeing yourself as part of the solution, or of the problem for that matter, you start to see the whole goddamn mess as Somebody Else’s Problem and you really wish that they’d sort out soon before things get Really Bad (although with a bit of luck, you’ll be dead by the time that happens — see below). You’re not so much bitter and twisted as tired of banging your head against brick walls, and so acceptance and equanimity becomes the order of the day.

1. Hair loss/gain
Hair is a problem. You either have too much of it or not enough — and typically in all the wrong places. Your previously shapely torso begins to look decidedly woolly and requires regular cosmetic attention, whilst leg and arm hair becomes increasingly verdant even as your official hairline is receding. (I have been fairly lucky on the latter front so far, but there are definite signs of recession — and I’m not talking about the economy.) More alarmingly, your shoulders and back look like they may start to join in on the act, making waxing or laser treatment both seem like increasingly attractive options. Nose and ear-hair trimming will soon become a necessary part of your grooming regime, if it hasn’t done so already, and the purchase or gift of battery- or main-operated hair removal devices goes from being a luxury or a joke to being a thoughtful, if a trifle tactless, Christmas or birthday gift.

1. Expanding waistline
You used to be able to eat whatever you liked without putting on a pound, but sadly those days are behind you. Every superfluous calorie seems to cling to the ever expanding region that you used to call your stomach, but is now merely a belly, and appears to be quietly plotting to take over your entire body with its vast, wobbling mass. Occasional trips to the gym and other attempts to exercise only serve to stave off the inevitable, as once taut flesh becomes saggy and/or increasingly rotund. Every chocolate or sugary dessert, salty snack — which, incidentally, have become virtually irresistible — or pint of beer adds to your girth such that once-comfortable jeans become practically impossible to fasten, and you find yourself loosening your belt another notch to accommodate your wastline after a large meal. (Those of you who think this is funny, laugh while you can — believe me, it will catch up with you in the end!)

1. Chronic health problems
Whereas you used to occasionally get ill then make a full and rapid recovery, health problems increasingly seem to accumulate or linger for an irritatingly long period of time. Merely temporary inconveniences give way to permanent incapacities as time takes its toll on your previously reliable frame. For my own part, repetitive strain injury from too much computer use, tinnitus in both ears — a result of too much loud music coupled with a genetic predisposition towards hearing problems — plus increasingly poor hearing and eyesight, not to mention occasional depression, form part of the everyday landscape of my existence, although I count myself reasonably lucky not to have anything more serious to deal with. For others, acute aches and pains in their joints, bones or backs make everyday tasks difficult or painful, and I am increasingly impressed at the ability of many old people, for whom walking down the road to the local shop presents a real challenge, to go about their daily business with fortitude, patience and dignity. A lesson for us all I think.

1. Prone to emotional episodes
Perhaps it’s just me, but I increasingly find myself becoming dewy-eyed at moments of emotional significance. This could occur during a film, soppy or otherwise, when saying goodbye to friends or colleagues that I am unlikely to see again (although you learn after a while that ‘goodbye’ rarely means for ever), or in one of those ‘self’-moments where you suddenly become aware of the finitude of life, and hence of the preciousness of each and every moment (see? there I go again!). Nostalgia becomes increasingly prevalent, and you enjoy reminiscing with friends about all the good times you had, even though you’ve heard the same stories many times before, and many of them probably weren’t quite as idyllic as they now seem in retrospect. Powerful memories evoked by a sound, sight or smell can sometimes take you by surprise, causing you to stop and think of people and places from long ago, whose significance is known only to yourself, and to those dear to you, and which will finally pass with you to the grave. Savour and enjoy it, my friends, as time is all too brief, as the final of sign of ageing attests…

1. Death
Less a sign of ageing than of its cessation, death is something that must come to us all in the end (NEWSFLASH: you are not indestructible!). However, here I’m not so much talking about the event of your own death, but that of those around you. As you get older, the death of family members, friends, and even well-known TV personalities or local celebrities familiar to you from your youth brings you face to face with the inevitable realisation that at some point, you yourself are going to die. Quite apart from this sobering thought, and the heartache that all of the above brings, you notice that everybody else is starting to look so terribly old. Surely, you think, I can’t have aged that much? There is a sense that someone somewhere is playing an incredibly cruel trick, and that at some point they will jump out from behind a lamppost shrieking ‘Haha, fooled you!’ and everything will go back to ‘normal’, i.e. how you always remember things having been. Unfortunately, however, there is no trick, no lamppost, and no ‘normal’, and you’re just going to have to come to terms with the fact that life is, after all, a limited commodity, and that time will eventually win its battle against everything that is you, consigning your being to that elusive and ephemeral realm: the past. Those who find this thought depressing may console themselves with the fact that it has not done so already, and so there is still a chance to make the best of it.

Well, those are my seven signs of ageing. Fortunately, things may not be as bad as they seem since it is possible to stave off at least some of the above, whilst others may seem a small price to pay for the miracle of continued existence. I have, however, already started thinking about a follow up entry concerning how to combat the seven signs of ageing, so watch this space!

* Actually, this is a lie. The first picture was taken almost exactly two years ago and the second about 18 months later, but hey, who’s counting?

Life in St Andrews

Sun, 7 Oct 2007 17:59:14 +0100

I haven’t had much time for blogging lately so, to cut a long story short, I’ve recently (actually not so recently, but I started writing this ages ago!) moved to St Andrews and started studying for the M.Litt. (that’s ‘Master of Letters’) in philosophy. Just for fun, I thought I’d jot down a quick list of some of the things I like — and a few that I don’t — about the city and the university so far. So, in no particular order, here goes…

Things that I like about St Andrews:
• Everyone is very friendly
• It’s quiet, but not too quiet, if you know what I mean
• It’s by the sea
• It’s in Scotland — home at last!
• Our flat is only five minutes walk from the philosophy department
• The town centre is small enough to walk around in 10 minutes
• It’s very international (although with a predominance of English and Americans, it has to be said)
• Postgraduates can take books out of the library for a whole year! :-p
• The pubs stay open until at least 1am (this is normal throughout most of the civilised world, I know, but after living in England for the last 17 years, it’s a breath of fresh air!)
• Coffee shops are open until 11pm (well, BeanScene and Taste are, anyway)
• There are (unlike some places I could mention) refreshingly few hen parties and stag nights!
• The tap water tastes good (by which I mean of nothing in particular)
• I see at least two people I know every time I leave the house
• There are tons of interesting seminars, workshops and talks to go to
• Everybody shops at Tesco
• The cold

Things that I don’t like about St Andrews:
• Golf
• Did I mention the cold?
• There are so few actual Scots here that I feel like a foreigner :-(
• It’s not very good for shopping (although this could be considered a good point since there is less opportunity to spend money, unless you count Amazon, of course…)
• The departmental library’s eschewal of the use of any kind of modern technology in place of card index files. Oh well, at least they don’t crash very often (?)
• The supermarket isn’t that great and they are often run of stock (damn students…)
• I’m so damn busy I don’t have nearly enough time to all the stuff I’d like

As you can see, the pros definitely outweigh the cons. I’m sure I’ll think of some more soon, but all in all life is pretty good. If only I didn’t have to do any actual work, it would be almost perfect! ;-)

House hunting in St Andrews

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0100

A couple of weeks ago, Heike and I travelled up to St Andrews (is ‘St’ supposed to have a dot after it or not? I’m never sure…) to find somewhere to live for the next year. Despite stories of doom and gloom from just about everyone who lives, has lived or knows someone who has lived in St Andrews telling us that it was impossible to find anything at this time of year for a reasonable price, etc. etc., we managed to find a great two bedroom flat on South Street1 that is ideal for our requirements. Well, almost ideal in that it is already furnished, and we have all of our own furniture, but unfurnished houses for rental in St Andrews are like hens’ teeth since the place is almost exclusively geared up for the student market, so we’re just going to have to sell, store and/or rearrange our existing furniture around what’s already there (anyone interested in some second-hand shelves, a wardrobe or a very nice but slightly temperamental Sony telly?).

Actually finding the flat involved a couple of days of traipsing around St Andrews (not an altogether unpleasant task, since it’s such a lovely place), lots of phone calls, plus as an unexpected trip to Perthshire, which I will explain later. We had timed our visit to coincide with an interview Heike had at the University for a part-time job in the Access and Recruitment department, so some of the train fares and accommodation were already paid for, and we were able to upgrade our room in the very friendly and comfortable Cameron House to a double for the very modest sum of £11. Unfortunately, the University also interviewed 20 other people for the job and Heike didn’t get it in the end, but at least it gave her the opportunity of an expenses paid trip to St Andrews (hmmmmm, am I getting tightfisted in my old age? on second thoughts, don’t answer that!).

Although we had done a lot of preparation beforehand by searching the University’s accommodation web site and ringing round a number of letting agents, many of the properties we had hoped to see had either gone or, with August being right in the middle of the summer holidays, the landlords had still not responded by the time we got there. Fortunately, the B&B we were staying in had a Wi-Fi internet connection, and so I was able to check e-mail and the web, and the combination of this and possessing a mobile phone made the search a lot easier than in previous years. That said, we still had our fair share of problems. We viewed a range of places from fairly dismal house-sharing arrangements to luxury three bedroom apartments, with corresponding prices to boot. The going rate for a one bedroom flat in St Andrews is about £525 to £575 per month (which is what we’re currently paying for our flat in the centre of York), or about £600 to £650 per month for two bedroom or semi-detached (which is what we’re paying for the new place). This obviously varies depending upon how close you are to the town centre, where rents in excess of £750 are not unusual, although well out of our budget. When added to the council tax, which works out at around £115 per month, minus the 25% discount for students), that adds up to a lot of wonga, so I’m really hoping that my funding from the AHRC comes through OK…

Whilst up in St Andrews, I also took the opportunity to drop in and visit the Philosophy Department, which I had previously only seen in passing. It is based in a grand old building (see above) overlooking the sea from the top of a steep cliff on the Scores. Amusingly, it’s divided into two separate departments: the Department of Moral Philosophy, which covers ethics, aesthetics, politics, and so on, and the Department of Metaphysics, which comprises of pretty much everything else, each of which has its own shiny blue nameplate adjacent to the relevant entrance. This reflects the ancient Scottish division of philosophy into values- and non-values based disciplines, although choosing which doorway to enter by was a bit of an Alice in Wonderland moment (although needless to say I went in through the metaphysics entrance!). In fact, both doors open out into a common hallway and reception area, although apparently the only way to get between the two buildings used to be through a doorway in the basement. Perhaps it would still be that way if the doors were marked Analytic and Continental Philosophy, I’m not sure… In any case, when I dropped by, most of the staff were away on leave but I was fortunate enough to bump into Katherine Hawley, whose work on the adverbial theory of time I had already encountered while writing an extended essay on Heidegger. She was very friendly, helpful and approachable — everything I was hoping for from a St Andrews faculty member — and we had a good chat about the course and St Andrews in general, giving me an excellent first impression of the University and Department in general. (I may well be taking her course in metaphysics in the spring term, so this bodes well for the future!)

By the end of the first day of our house hunting, Heike and I found out about a refurbished one bedroom flat that was just coming onto the market. At only £525 per month it was a steal, and it had yet to be furnished, which suited us down to the ground. After some discussion with the letting agent, we arranged to drop into the office first thing the following morning to fill out an application and have an informal interview with the manager, who we were told like to vet all prospective tenants, but wasn’t available for an interview that day. The only other people to have seen the flat hadn’t got back to them for two weeks, so we thought we were pretty safe and so left the place in high spirits, having thought we had found the perfect place for us to live. Little did we know that whilst we were viewing the flat, or possibly shortly afterwards, the manager had interviewed one of the people who had previously seen the flat and accepted their application there and then. We didn’t find out about this until I phoned the office first thing the next morning, when I was told that the flat had already been let to a German PhD student who was flying back home that day and so needed a quick decision. Needless to say, we were absolutely gutted — not to mention extremely annoyed about having been completely misinformed by the letting agents. Coupled with the fact that we hadn’t heard back from the University regarding Heike’s job interview, our high spirits gave way to a decidedly gloomy outlook and, as if on cue, the sunny weather gave way to clouds and rain.

Having lost out on what seemed like the perfect flat by not going after it aggressively enough, we resolved to hang onto anything else within our price range that came along with both hands, since not finding anything would mean having to start all over the following week when housing supply and demand would be even less in our favour. Fortunately, we managed to find several suitable alternatives, although all furnished, and quite a bit more expensive than the original £525 per month. In the end it came down to a choice between the two bedroom flat in South Street that we finally decided to go with, which was great but expensive, and an equally nice one bedroom flat on one of the main roads going into St Andrews, owned by a terribly nice local chap named Donald. He told us that he thought he had already let the flat the previous day, but received an unexpected call that very morning saying that the girl who was interested in it had pulled out and decided to take another flat at the last minute. On further discussion, it turned out that she was also from Germany and taking a PhD at the University, which seemed too much of coincidence to be anything other than the very same person who had gazumped us out of the other flat! Even more strangely, her name and description matched that of a girl I used to go out with when I lived in Kingston, leading Heike to suggest that perhaps she was stalking me!

After much soul searching, haggling and negotiation we decided to plump for the flat in South Street, mainly because it would give us more space to pursue our various creative activities (me: music and philosophy, Heike: art), and was both quieter and more centrally located, despite the additional cost. However, there was still an additional hurdle to cross, which was that the landlords, who live well over an hour’s drive from St Andrews in St Fillans, Perthshire, wanted to meet with us before making a final decision. Since we were only in Scotland for a few days, the rest of which we had hoped to spend in Kelty with my Dad, we decided to move quickly. Having already lost out on the other place, we offered to drive up to St Fillans — a beautiful place on the shore of Loch Earn2 — that very evening to seal the deal, so to speak. (In actual fact, we were chauffeured in my Dad’s shiny new Toyota Prius, which is very nice — and quite fascinating in terms of its dual-fuel hybrid engine.) We finally arrived at about 7 o’clock in the evening and were able to make a suitably good impression that they decided to let us the flat for slightly less than the advertised price, and to remove a few items of furniture to help us fit in all our stuff. So, with the proviso that we have yet to receive the actual contract (although I’m assured that this is in progress and on its way from the solicitors), it looks like we now have somewhere to stay for the next year or so — possibly more if I decide and/or am able to stay in St Andrews to do my PhD.

All in all, it was a worthwhile, if a little nerve-wracking, trip. Heike is currently applying for some other jobs at the University, including an application for casual administrative work and is hopeful that she’ll find something, even if only on a temporary basis while she finds her feet. In the meantime, we still have to organise the rest of the move, although since our new contract doesn’t start until October, and I need to be there the week beforehand, this will involve me going up there a week earlier and then coming back to York to drive the van containing all our stuff to St Andrews a week or two later. In any case, we both formed a very good impression of St Andrews while we were there, and it’s much easier to imagine ourselves living there now that we have something concrete to look forward to — although the idea of taking a postgraduate degree still seems a little unreal to me, I must admit! However, in just a few weeks that idea will be turning into reality, and I’m very much looking forward to finding out where it leads, so wish me luck and watch this space for news of how it all turns out…

The end of an era

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 14:43:59 +0100

Well, after three years of surprisingly hard work, which have turned out to be something of an intellectual and emotional roller-coaster, as well as a lot of fun too, the time is rapidly approaching when I’ll be leaving York for good. Having finished my studies in June and graduated in July, it’s time to move on, and in October I’m starting on a one-year Masters (an M.Litt., to be precise) in philosophy at the University of St. Andrews in my home county of Fife. I must say that I have rather mixed feelings, as I’ve had a really good time here and made so many new friends. Having said that, almost everyone I know in York has either gone home for the summer or back home after graduation, and it does feel like it’s time for a change. Three years is about the longest time I’ve spent in any one place since I left Scotland some 17 years ago, and I’m getting itchy feet.

Looking back over the past few years, I find it both amazing that it has gone so quickly, and at how much has changed and happened in such a short space of time. When I started out down this road, I was still a more or less full-time IT professional with an interest in thinking and philosophy, and a hunger to learn more and expand my horizons into a new and different area. Now, I’m a soon-to-be-postgraduate student with plans to study for at least the next four years (!), and hopefully to find an academic job at the end of it (!!). Although I still keep my hand in with the programming work, what once seemed so comfortable and familiar is now a temporary summer job, rather than my main focus, which is now upon furthering my studies and overall philosophical outlook. It all feels very different, although I must say that I feel more at home with my new identity than with the old, which always contained an element of dissatisfaction and discomfort, despite its obvious — and some not so obvious — advantages.

The thing I will miss most of all (and in truth, am doing so already) is all the great people that I have met in York. As a student who is just a bit older than your average undergraduate (“Did you take a year out?” “Yes, I took 15 years out, actually!”), I found it a bit difficult at first to fit in. However, as time went by (as a philosopher, I hate that phrase because if there’s one thing that time doesn’t do it is to go anywhere, but that’s besides the point…) and I got to know more people, both from within my year and outside it, I began to feel much more a part of the strange and diverse community that is a modern University. Even the lecturers, with their own individual obsessions and eccentricities, seemed more a part of some weird kind of extended family, rather than a formal teacher–student relationship, and the friendliness and approachability of the philosophy staff in York has been a major benefit of studying there, as well as something that has helped me immensely in my intellectual and personal development.

Something else that made my time at the York more of a pleasure than a chore was starting the Philosophy Society at the beginning of my second year. Having found out that there was nothing like this in the first year, and missing the informality of heated discussions about the purpose of philosophy or the latest theory of perception at the college bar, I decided to take up the course administrator’s suggestion that I should start one (thanks Marysia!). This quickly snowballed into a major undertaking, and we were soon attracting 40 or 50 people to our events — pretty good for a small University like York — many of which I will remember as some of the most exciting and memorable times that I had at University. What was great about the Society was that not only did you get to invite and listen to some wonderful philosophers talk about their own work, but that those of us who attended regularly or were on the committee became (well, in most cases, anyway!) best of friends who I’m sure will continue to keep in touch long after the course has finished. In retrospect, I’m at least as pleased about my involvement with the Society as I am with getting my degree, and I’m sure that the new committee will continue to take it from strength to strength.

By the time of graduation, the rest of the degree already seemed like a distant memory. There are no lectures or seminars in the final term at York. It’s just a mad rush to try and get all your essays finished on time, along with a few exams thrown in to keep you on your toes. After that, there is the interminable waiting for results where you start to think “If only I had spent a bit more time on that essay” or “Yup, I’ve definitely bolloxed it all up!”. However, despite my misgivings (or paranoia? take your pick), I must have done something right as I was awarded a starred First, and later found out that I’d received the top marks in my year. I only found out about the Distinction a week before graduation as it had to be confirmed by University Senate, and so was mighty pleased (as well as more than a little surprised as I thought it was 50:50 as to whether I would even get a First, although some of my friends seemed to think that it was a foregone conclusion).

The graduation event itself was a strange affair. It was great to see everybody again, but it was so hectic, and the weather wasn’t exactly the best. In traditional British style, we were packed indoors in the middle of summer with the rain pouring down outside, all feeling rather sweaty in all our academic finery (hence why I appear somewhat shiny in the above picture!). I decided — somewhat against my better judgement — to embrace my Scottishness and hire a kilt for the event, which prompted a wry remark from the Vice-Chancellor when I shook his hand on stage (“You’re not Scottish by any chance, are you?” — witty), as well as a few rather strange looks from some of my lecturers. Still, it made for some interesting photos to show the grandkids. ;-)

I actually rather enjoyed the ceremony, despite all the waiting around and clapping. It brought a sense of finality and completion to the whole experience, and it was great to be finally handed that piece of paper that said I had the BA which I’d been working and studying towards for so long — about bloody time too! Perhaps the best part was the sense of camaraderie that came from having slogged your guts out for the past three years alongside thirty or so other people who were on the same course, and all being sat there wearing silly hats and gowns, feeling like little kids that had finally been given an ice cream after a long, hot walk in the sun. All in all, it was a good day, and a chance to share reminiscences and say farewells to everybody, many of whom I may well never meet again (except on Facebook, of course!). Perhaps my only regret about my time as an undergraduate is not having spent more time getting to know people and just hanging out in between lectures (which are few and far between at the best of times!). There was always some essay to be finished, or event to be organised, but in any case I think I had my fair share of student life one way or the other.

And now, after having spent the last few months recovering from the past three years of intense activity, and trying to regain some sense of normality, I’m now preparing to do it all over again in St. Andrews, only this time as a postgraduate. It’s a scary and exciting prospect, and one I’m very much looking forward — including the idea of returning to Scotland, even if it only turns out to be for the year, as who knows where I will end up doing my PhD. Still, I’ll always have a fond place in my heart for York, and all the good times that I’ve had here and the friends that I made, many of whom I am sure will go onto do great things. It’s a terrific luxury and a privilege to be able to study a subject like philosophy at University, and I’m very glad that I’ve had the opportunity to do so. Having worked in industry for many years, I’m all the more aware of how special and unusual the experience of full-time study is, and have tried to get as much out of it as I can (even though there were times were I came close to chucking it all in, although I guess everyone feels like that at some point). In any case, it’s started me off in a whole different direction, and one that I hope will lead to a more interesting, and ultimately more fulfilling, career doing something that I love. And what more can one ask of a place than that?