Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Work in Progress

You may notice that the site looks a bit different at the minute (and some of the older posts look very messed up). There are some good reasons for this:

  1. The software that I used to use to maintain this blog is no longer operating, so I’ve had to move the blog to a new platform.
  2. In doing so, lots of images and links got messed up, and I need to re-establish everything. This will take some time for me to do…

The new platform is pretty good though, and brings things like search functionality and ‘categories’ (so you can see all the ‘travel’ or ‘London’ posts, for example).

It’s also worth noting that there will not be many more posts on this blog – perhaps just one more to cover our recent trip to SE Asia. All new posts will be made on my new and exciting ‘Jason and Kirsten in Melbourne’ blog, which is already up and running. Check it out!

 

Parents’ Visit: London Lake District

I’ve been looking forward to my parents’ first visit to London (well, to Europe in general) for some time, and now they are finally here!br /br /Despite the flight, they arrived without much jetlag (the whole waking-up-at-4am thing appears to be a standard operating procedure) and a lot of energy. Luckily, London has turned on its best weather in some time to greet them.br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”London/spanbr /br /a href=”http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2433/3575855199_70617e20bc_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2433/3575855199_70617e20bc_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aKirsten and I picked them up from Heathrow early in the morning, and by the time we’d hit Zone One, my dad had changed his mind on London from a city he’d never visit to one he really quite liked. br /br /The first few days produced a lot of firsts for them, aside from just being in Europe. Highlights included the local Polish restaurant (my dad was especially fond of Polish beer and vodka/slivovice shots, though he’s since loved every lager put in front of him, too). br /br /The first couple of days were relatively low key; with Kirsten and I at work, Mum and Dad mainly spent their time exploring Clapham. On Friday, while I was at a training day in Birmingham, they walked around the Oxford St/Regent St shopping area and made their way through Hyde Park and Green Park. Kirsten finished early, met them and attempted to take them to Westminster Abbey, but was foiled by the crowds and the costs (£15pp)! On the first Saturday, we took to London with gusto: Borough Markets in the morning, walk along the Southbank, a href=”http://www.londonducktours.co.uk/” target=”_blank”Duck Tour/a, and a play – Madame De Sade, with Dame Judy Dench.br /br /The next couple of days were a bit lower key for us – we sent Mum Dad to St Paul’s and the British Museum solo on Sunday, and I followed up to meet them for lunch at my favourite Mexican place a href=”http://www.wahaca.co.uk/” target=”_blank”Wahaca/a. br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”Lake District/spanbr /br /a href=”http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2426/3575860867_d6ca67c841_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2426/3575860867_d6ca67c841_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aKirsten and I had taken the week off to be with Mum Dad, and walking in the Lake District was the main attraction. We had booked into a BB in Ambleside, just to the north of Lake Windermere – the largest of the lakes.br /br /Our trip up was not smooth; at least my parents were able to see the British rail system as it normally is – overpriced, cramped and frequently not working. After our third train on what was supposed to be a one-change journey, we decided that a taxi was the only way we could make it from Oxenholme to Ambleside with our sanity still in tact.br /br /However, we quickly forgot our troubles as we headed out to walk around the pretty town, with its quaint houses and slate walls, it was much prettier than I had imagined. Our quick walk around the town showed us some stunning sights (pictured, top), and the sunny afternoon presented a good few photo opportunities while getting us excited about the real walking to come.br /br /The next morning was not similar weather though – a light rain made us change our plans from the longer (18km and 4/5 difficulty) walk to the shorter (12km, 3/5 difficulty) walk. The walk was very pretty to start with, and we were all in appropriate wet-weather gear, making progress swift enough despite the light rain (although I did leave my DSLR at home in favour of mum’s pocketable compact).br /br /a href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3599/3576677358_6b0a485f8f_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3599/3576677358_6b0a485f8f_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aI don’t really think it clicked to us that this walk contained a 700m incline (and descent). So while much of the early walk was uphill, we didn’t really expect it to continue that way for most of the trip. By the time we had reached the little valley on the way, treading through open streams and jumping across rivers we knew we were in some serious territory. By now, the weather had really closed in, the rain was hard, the wind was cold and everyone’s boots were wet through (except for mine). The decision to don my waterproof overpants was not as silly as it had originally seemed, either. br /br /After another hour of walking, we were on the exposed summit of Scandale Fell, the rain was driving hard and my blood sugar was very low. After a bit of debate at the top of the mountain over the clarity of the walking book’s directions, we took the safer option of heading back the way we had come rather than risking travelling “via the contours” to reach home. Good thing too – although a slightly different route home (once we had descended from the mountain face) meant our return journey was not repetitive. Tired, cold and very, very wet we returned back to our warm BB for a very hot shower and some rest. br /br /After a nap, Kirsten and I headed out for dinner and drinks with our Canadian friends Laura and Chris who we randomly bumped into on the first night’s walk and who are doing a last lap of the UK before moving back to Toronto. br /br /a href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3562/3576713946_ebc5010a66_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3562/3576713946_ebc5010a66_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aNone of us were in the mood (or physical condition) to tackle the longer walk the next day, so we spent our last full day on a sea-level walk to nearby Grasmere, which once again took us through the beautiful countryside and showed us the lakes from a much more pleasant altitude.br /br /The train home was worse than the train ride up, leading Kirsten to swear that she would never catch a Virgin train to the north of England again. I was quick to concur.br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”London again/spanbr /br /The best weather of the year greeted us on our return. After getting some of my parents’ train booking sorted and leaving them to check out Madame Tusaud’s, we again enjoyed some of the fruits of Clapham – this time our favourite Stonehone gastropub nearby. Sunday continued the beautiful weather, and we set out to catch some rays in Hampstead Heath. Kirsten got a bit of heat stroke at 24degrees, but that’s another story…br /br /By now, Mum and Dad will be driving around Scotland somewhere, but will be back for more action-packed London stuff in about 10 days time. The only question is, can we keep up?br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to the Lake District a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157618886852823/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

April Holiday Part Four – Budapest

a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438397569/in/set-72157616718841950/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3542/3438397569_7a6119073c_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //abr /span style=”font-weight:bold;”The Train Ride/spanbr /br /Getting to Budapest from Sarajevo was almost the cornerstone of the holiday itself – we’d planned a 12 hour train ride through the rural areas of Bosnia and Hungary to get there.br /br /While we were heartened by the quality of the train from Mostar to Sarajevo, and with a couple of bags packed with supplies bought from our local Sarajevo supermarket (from the Konsume chain, no less) we headed to the Sarajevo rail station for the 7.02am departure.br /br /Our carriage was reasonably comfortable, initially filled with just one other elderly lady. However, a young girl joined the carriage and by the time we were on the outskirts of the city she felt comfortable enough with us all to start playing music aloud on her mobile phone. We didn’t feel that comfortable with her.br /br /The train ride initially replicated the terrain of Mostar-Sarajevo; lots of beautiful mountain scenery and farming land. As the hours ticked away, we made our way into the Serbian Republic (part of Bosnia, still) where things started to change – all the signs were in Cyrillic and the people seemed just a little more intense.br /br / Yet a few more hours later we’d crossed out of Bosnia (after a couple of passport checks) we were in Croatia, and the signs were all back in Latin characters. The change was immediately evident – not just the land, being flatter and much more useable, but also the quality of the roads, cars, buildings and so on. (Relatively) soon after we crossed again into Hungary, this time with a much longer and more detailed passport check (being the EU border and all). Soon we were racing along the flat plains of southern Hungary towards Budapest. We pulled in on time – around 18:30 in the evening.br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”Budapest/spanbr /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438420183/in/set-72157616718841950/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3358/3438420183_b8d745efd1_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aBudapest is literally a world apart from its Balkan neighbours. We jumped out of the train into the world’s oldest underground rail system, and systematically and clearly we found ourselves near our span style=”font-style:italic;”pension/span in no time at all. We were back in the first world, and very much glad for it.br /br /The place we stayed at was pretty awesome. Costing the same as our Sarajevo span style=”font-style:italic;”pension/span, we were greeted by Bob (an old New Yorker) and his partner Zoltan (a younger native of Hungary). They sat us down when we arrived, told us about heaps of things to do and even gave us a Budapest Time Out guidebook to use (which came in handy). It was way beyond the level of service we expected. The place itself was of a very high standard, with an actual double bed rather than the usual two singles pushed together. Free wi-fi, great coffee, etc. Again, all the trappings of the first world.br /br /We didn’t really know what to expect of Budapest – it was hard to place in the hierarchy of Eastern European cities. But we didn’t take long to fall for it – clean, modern, efficient with a massive histrory and the cityscape to prove it. Its a fabulous looking city, and totally grand. The early Spring sun made the city shine even more.br /br /On the first day we checked out all the obvious sights, including the massive Buda Castle on the other side of the Danube river (the city being divided into two parts – Buda on the west of the Danube and Pest to the east). We did our usual European city thing – walking everywhere, punctuated by stops for lunch and coffee/mineral water.br /br /In the afternoon we partook in a real Budapest past-time – bathing in the thermal spas! The city has many natural thermal baths, and we went to what was recommended to us as the best; the grand City Baths at the end of the classy Andrassy Street (lined with boutiques and embassies). The baths were awesome – so many different indoor and outdoor pools of various temperatures, saunas, various air bubble effects, fountains (some with definite massage capability) and so on. The baths were packed, and with the sunny warm weather outside, I would have expected nothing less!br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3439254274/in/set-72157616718841950/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3537/3439254274_5c0157f3ba_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aIn the evening we went to a street filled with bars and some restaurants, where it was packed even considering it was good Friday. The Hungarian food itself is not up to the high bar set by its Eastern European cousins. There was gulyás, which is much more of a thinner soup than the ‘goulash’ we tend to know outside of Hungary, but we didn’t try it. br /br /The next day we headed out on a tourist coach (!) to the edge of the city to see Memento Park. The Park is a collection of the city’s communist-era statues (pictured, above), most of which were torn down in other parts of Europe. Here, they have been cannily preserved and will form the basis of a full ‘communist theme park’ in time. It was really interesting, in in its half-finished state – the statues were complemented by a short history of Hungarian communism (which was pretty interesting in itself) and some training videos on espionage and spying that were used to train Hungarian communist spies. Some of the techniques were downright hilarious (as was the acting) but it was an interesting glimpse into communist life in Hungary.br /br /That night, after spending some time at a funky bar, covered in graffiti (which used be a mechanic, now also converted into a concert venue) we dined not far from our span style=”font-style:italic;”pension/span, at a fabulous pan-European restaurant which was pretty awesome. Hungarian currency is still pretty good value (even despite the collapse of the pound), so eating and drinking was at least affordable here, if not as cheap as Bosnia.br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438463511/in/set-72157616718841950/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3569/3438463511_a84e42da11_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aThe last day was spent just hanging out in the city’s many parks and gardens – a staple of every good European city – and enjoying the perfect weather. In many ways, Budapest is up with Vienna and Prague for beauty. In fact, its probably more consistently pretty than Prague, which has some pretty nasty bits and some just plain drab social housing suburbs. br /br /Although we didn’t spend a lot of time in each place on our trip through Bosnia, the trip was actually quite difficult, and had entailed a lot of travel. Budapest allowed us to relax in a clean, safe and beautiful place at the end, and get ourselves back in the frame of mind of being in modern cities. It was a great way to finish up.br /br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to Budapest a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157616718841950/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

April Holiday Part Three – Sarajevo and Jajce

a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438792070/in/set-72157616619083067/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3627/3438792070_2231288a82_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aSarajevo was always going to be the main point of the trip. As the capital of Bosnia, it was almost the anti-European: ex-communist, non-EU, poor and mostly Muslim. In the end it lived up to all the expectations, partially by being all that we expected and partly for challenging expectations.br /br /The train to Sarajevo from Mostar took around three hours through some spectacular mountainous terrain. Central Bosnia is very hilly (Sarajevo hosted the 1984 Winter Olympics while it was part of Yugoslavia) and there was snow on the top of most of the mountains despite the temperatures of around 20 degrees at our level. The trip took us along the river much of the way, showing us the many hydroelectric dams that supply power for the country (and trout farms that feed some of it).br /br /It was a long walk from the train station to the Baščaršija part of the Old Town, which is where our empension/em was located. The walk was pretty interesting in and of itself – from the bombed out buildings near the rail station, via the famous Holiday Inn where all the foreign reporters stayed during the war, via the grand new adminstrative builings, past the Austro-Hungarian architecture in the centre of town and finally on the the medieval heart of the Old Town.br /br /The Old Town are is relatively small – we spent the first day walking through the area dominated by mosques (built by Croatians), ćevapi and burek restaurants and people just hanging out, drinking coffee and generally doing nothing. And therein lies the essences of Sarajevo, and perhaps Bosnia in general. br /br /emĆevapi and Burek/embr /Growing up in Australia, my experience of Yugoslavs was mostly via Croats. They love their Ćevapčići (or ‘chevaps’ as they have become). I figured Croatia is the home of the Ćevapčići, and yet I couldn’t have been more wrong. The sheer amount of a href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cevapi”Ćevapi/a restaurants in Sarajevo shows that this is a Bosnian dish. No doubt the Serbs would probably stake a claim too, but when every second shop is a Ćevapi shop its hard to argue with it being Bosnian.br /br /Ćevapi is acutally a way of serving Ćevapčići – that is, with some (Turkish?) flat bread, chopped onions and sour cream. And its fantastic. When I say these restaurants are Ćevapi restaurants I mean that you can literally buy nothing else there. Not a coffee, not a beer, not a hot dog – just Ćevapi. br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438801394/in/set-72157616619083067″img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3557/3438801394_a5644f3c69_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aWhen you note that one of the kinds of cevaps available in Sarajevo is a emshish/em cevap (on a skewer, aka shish kebab) and that these are about the only beef sausage in the world (and the Bosnians are Muslims…) you can see how it all comes together via the Ottoman/Bosnian angle.br /br /Then there is the a href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burek”burek/a. How have I missed this little gem? I’ve seen these in Turkey and not even bothered – just another bread/pastry thing filled with random stuff. But the Bosnian version – rolled filo pasty around meat flavoured with onions and spices – is a relevation. Most of the restaurants that aren’t serving Ćevapi are serving burek. It goes Ćevapi, burek, Ćevapi, burek, Ćevapi, other.br /br /When you eat the meat version you are immediately reminded of a high-class sausage roll (much like the kind they sell at a href=”http://www.moen.co.uk/”my local butchers/a or the ones I like to buy at the Borough Markets. And with a dollop of sour cream (just like on the cevapi) they are awesome. They also come in a spinach and ricotta version! They were pretty nice, we had them a couple of time. Dirt cheap, too.br /br /I’m having sour cream on my next sausage roll.br /br /emPeople Hanging Out/embr /In Sarajevo, everyone eats Ćevapi – Bosnians, Croats and Serbs (and tourists). br /br /Everyone knows about the multi-culturalism of Bosnia: Bosnian/Muslims; Croatian/Catholics; Serbian/Orthodox. But it kinda seems like it’s true – people do seem to mix and all get along in the same space. Sure, there are churches/mosques all over the place – which only proved that people used to get on at some stage. And the war would probably say that they don’t these days, but talking to some locals on the train to Budapest convinces me that at least most the bulk of Sarajevans are really up for the whole live-and-let-live thing, even if some of their fellow Bosnians elsewhere and neighbours aren’t.br /br /emDoing Nothing/embr /People don’t do anything in Bosnia. br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438838910/in/set-72157616619083067″img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3601/3438838910_d60f0b0213_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aThese are not a hard-working group of people. At any point in time, most of them will be having coffee. Coffee is more of a part of life in Bosnia than Italy or Spain or whereever, just because in Italy people do other stuff some time. Bosnians don’t. There is nothing going on.br /br /People don’t seem to have jobs. Young people don’t seem to have school to go to. They’re just doing nothing. It’s kinda cool – the pace of life is so slow and laid back. It’s hard to believe that they could be motivated to have a war. br /br /Maybe they were really fighting over coffee.br /br /strongThe Tunnel/strongbr /Sarajevo was under seige from the Bosnian Serbs for about 1000 days, and during that time lots of bad stuff was happening. The city sits in a horse-shoe shaped valley surrounded on most sides by big, beautiful hills. These hills were for shelling the city from, and that’s exactly what the Bosnian Serbs did.br /br /The one part that is not surrounded by hills was the UN-controlled airport, beyond which was ‘free’ Bosnian (ie. not Serb) territory. Being unable to get in and out, the Bosnian army dug a tunnel under the airport (pictured, above), which we went to see.br /br /Most of it has collapsed now, but a small section is still open near the house of two soliders (father and son) who fought for Bosnia and have now turned this section into a museum of sorts. br /br /The tunnel (1m wide and 1.5m high) was used for all sorts – getting food and water in an out, but also for telephone and electricty supplies (the main ones were cut). It was also how some officials, like the Bosnian leader Alija Izbetgovich got out to go to UN and EU meetings for example. It’s pretty cool to see.br /br /We also visited the unassuming bridge where Franz Ferdinand was shot by a Serb as a protest against the Austo-Hungarian rule of Yugoslavia, which eventually escalated into WW1. We mainly went because of the name, but there was an interesting (if small) museum that Kirsten checked out.br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”Jajce/spanbr /br /On a recommendation from a Bosnian colleague, we also visited the town of Jajce, near Banja Luka in the north west corner of the country. br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438877654/in/set-72157616619083067″img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3644/3438877654_97b36eefc2_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aJajce is a small town famous for its waterfall. We were told that it wouldn’t be that busy with tourists, but when we arrived after a 3 hour coach ride through some beautiful countryside and landscapes we found a town packed with teenagers. It was a warm day, and I guess they had all been bussed in on some kind of school outing. When they left a few hours later the place was like a ghost town.br /br /We spent the day walking around the small centre of town, checking out the old churches, citadel and of course the waterfall. It was a beautiful town, perched high on a hillside with beautiful views of the surrounding areas. It was also a Muslim town, but was very close to Banja Luka, the capital of the Serbian part of Bosnia and the site of a whole lot of bad stuff during the war. You’d never know from idyllic Jajce though – aside from the usual ex-communist dilapidation and the odd bombed out building (fewer than other places) it was pretty nice.br /br /Jajce was also the town where all the Yugoslav countries came together in an anti-fascist group to band together and form Yugoslavia. Given the very mountainous terrain and the slow pace of getting anywhere in Bosnia these days, I’d guess getting from far-flung Slovenia or Macedonia to Jajce was the hardest part. There is a museum to the great occasion, but most of its mementoes were pillaged during the war. The assembly hall still stands, as does a massive gold statue of Tito. In typical Yugoslav style, its actually an 8 foot carving from polystyrene, spay painted gold.br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”Reflection/spanbr /br /Looking back, Sarajevo and Bosnia in general was really awesome. I don’t think either of us has had a holiday that has made us think as much as Bosnia – not just about the war, but about what makes European country European at all, too.br /br /It was totally beautiful, and clearly not as many people visit as they should. Perhaps in some ways that’s a good thing – they still don’t have a McDonald’s in Sarajevo, for example. And maybe clearing away the land mines that litter the countryside will need to happen first.br /br /Nonetheless, its hard to see Bosnia as anything but a jewel – a faded jewel, sure. And perhaps one that not everyone appreciates the value of, but a jewel no less. Given the way things are going, in 15 years time Sarajevo will be like Prague or Cracow is today. I’m glad to have experienced it, and its a country I won’t soon forget.br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to the Sarajevo and Jajce in the second half of the Bosnia set a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157616619083067/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

April Holiday Part Two – Mostar

a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3437542801/in/set-72157616619083067/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3547/3437542801_95e4e3d5a6_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aBy the time we reached Mostar it was pitch black around 9:00pm (no daylight saving here) and my head was filled with the advice from Maja, my Bosnian colleague: br /blockquote”Bosnia is quite rough even though it does not look it. Be very watchful for the local mafia – e.g. your possessions and whom do you trust.”/blockquotebr /We needn’t have worried. The Mercedes dealership on the way into town and the bustling square filled with Friday night drinkers and giant video screens were good signs, and with a little help from Kirsten’s generic Eastern European (Slovak) directions we were in our span style=”font-style:italic;”pension/span (despite the lack of street signs).br /br /As it turns out, Mostar is far from a gangster’s paradise – its the jewel of Bosnia. Its old town (which is most of the town) is World Heritage listed, and its famous Stari Most bridge has been rebuilt to its former glory after being destroyed in the recent war.br /br /Mostar is half Croat and half Bosniak (ie. Bosnian Muslim) in ethnic makeup, and it’s literally divided down the Neretva river in that respect. Other than that, the town doesn’t seem divided at all, despite there being more mosques (and Muslim graves) on one side of town than the other. br /br /a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438307484/in/set-72157616619083067/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3558/3438307484_c3ef5b785e_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aWe started out that night having a quickie meal of ćevapi (nothing else was open) and promising ourselves that we would have no more for the trip. We didn’t manage that, but we got close! We had a couple of beers in the northern square near our span style=”font-style:italic;”pension/span, remarking at the number of well-dressed young people, flashy cars, the Benneton store on the corner and the amount of drinking (split about 50/50 between espresso and beers) in this town. This was not the war-torn place we’d been thinking about…br /br /We only had one full day in Mostar, and so we started early the next morning by visiting some of the a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438265062/in/set-72157616619083067/”graveyard/as we saw on the way into town the previous evening. Unsurprisingly, most of the people died in 1993 – the guidebooks said we were walking down what used to be the front in the battle between Bosnian Serbs and the Croat/Muslim coalition. br /br /As we wandered down town, the scars of war became more obvious. Many bombed out grand buildings were standing there, literally a shell of their former selves. It was a little bizarre to stumble upon the Old Town and Stari Most area, where the beauty of the town really struck us. The star of the show is the rebuilt bridge itself, blown up by the Croat forces when the Bosniaks and the Croatians turned on each other later in the war. From deep within the medieval Old Town, you could almost forget the war ever happened at all – it was a place of stunning beauty, with waterfalls, restaurants and a refreshing lack of tourists walking around under beautiful blue skies. br /br /By lunch time we’d seen most of the Old Town and after a lunch by the river we headed back for what would become a customary afternoon nap. Heading out into the Croatian part of town later, we ended up around a beautiful park (flanked on a few sides by some bombed out buildings (like a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3437515213/in/set-72157616619083067/”this/a and a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438329014/in/set-72157616619083067/”this/a). In the park was a really cool outdoor/undercover cafe where the local well-to-do types, of which there were many, were hanging out. br /br /a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3438331996/in/set-72157616619083067/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3397/3438331996_14f96fc70d_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aAt this point I should introduce the fact that I was getting quite a lot stares from local people, mostly out of interest at seeing a funny-looking person like myself. I guess they don’t get many people like me in these parts. However, the big, bald headed guy in dark sunglasses at the park cafe took the cake here, staring at me to the point at which I felt a little uncomfortable and happy to leave (especially given previous mafia comments) – albeit after a fair few espressos and mineral waters.br / br /That night’s dinner started with a chicken broth which was almost standard Eastern European fare. Our main was a large, shared mixed grill of vegetables and meats. Only a large liver piece masquerading as a steak spoiled the feast, which was otherwise very Turkish in style (grilled eggplant, peppers, capsicums, lamb, etc). The goat’s cheese gave it a Greek touch, while the chilli tapenade reminded me of the stuff we had in Morocco. br /br /The next morning we were up early for the 7:30am train from Mostar to Sarajevo. The same train ride that Michael Palin had done in his a href=”http://palinstravels.co.uk/book-4337″New Europe/a series…br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to the Mostar in the first half of the Bosnia set a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157616619083067/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

April Holiday Part One – Croatia for a Day

a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3437954814/in/set-72157616703244166/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3651/3437954814_097919383c_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aThe bulk of our April holiday was going to be in Bosnia, but as flying to Sarajevo was more expensive and coming up from south to north suited our plans better we decided to fly into Dubrovnik, Croatia to start the trip.br /br /We’d been to Croatia previously, so we weren’t too bothered about spending time in Dubrovnik but our coach didn’t leave for a few hours so there was time for lunch and a quick look around.br /br /The bus from the airport dropped right in front of the Old Town and we had a quick walk around to enjoy the weather. It was 23 and sunny, which felt plenty warm to us – and it pretty much didn’t change for the whole trip!br /br /After a lunch of the Croatian favourite ćevapčići (Kirsten had a seafood risotto) we were well in tune with the Balkans frame of mind. We leisurely made our way down to the bus station area with plenty of time to spare and hung out by the harbour to kill time. But when when we made our way to the bus station across the road about 15 mins before scheduled departure we found that we were at the normal bus station, not the coach/international bus station. br /br /a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3437160117/in/set-72157616703244166/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3631/3437160117_da789e3343_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aA very brisk walk with large backpacks took us down the riverfront to the new bus station. We’d made it with about 5 mins to spare. Although upon further inspection, none of these were the coach to Mostar! We were told by one of the drivers that the station was even further down the road. We sprinted and JUST made the last coach to Mostar for the evening with about 1 minute to spare. br /br /Sweaty and exhausted we collapsed onto the coach. br /br /The drive to Mostar in Bosnia was pretty nice, at least to start with. We tracked along the Adriatic coast just as the late afternoon sun was upon us and the islands of Croatia glinted just off the shore. br /br /We travelled West along the coast through into the small area of Bosnia’s coastline, then back into Croatia (including passport checks entering and exiting) as far as Ploce. At that point we turned away from the coast and started driving northwards with the sun starting to set behind us. We cross the border again back into Bosnia and by dusk we were driving through the Bosnian countryside.br /br /a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/3437981166/in/set-72157616703244166/”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3586/3437981166_4f40969e27_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aThe countryside was initially much like any other rural area in Europe. There was the odd mosque, with their telling minarets suggesting that this wasn’t ‘Europe as we knew it’ but little else was of note, other than a general sense of rural poverty which was to be expected.br /br /However, as we continued we began to notice marked difference between the small townlets on the glittering coast of Croatia and the small towns of nearby southern Bosnia. br /br /Just as the sun was setting, there was an extended stop at about 7:30pm in some really horrible place whose name I forget. There were bullet and mortar holes in the walls of apartments, mangy dogs looking for scraps, dodgy people hanging about the bus station and a general feeling of desolation all round. br /br /As the night drew in, it was clear that we were not in Croatia anymore…br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to Dubrovnik a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157616703244166/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

The Cotswolds – The Romantic Road

a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3297/3338619313_63ce4ba07e_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3297/3338619313_63ce4ba07e_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aa href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cotswolds” target=”_blank”The Cotswold/as are a bunch of hills in the West of England, an area famed for its natural beauty. We’d heard a lot about the Cotswolds: our friends had been and given it rave reviews, I have a colleague who lives out that way and swears by its beauty and its an area where many famous people are supposed to have holiday homes or houses. br /br /We’ve been wanting to go for ages, but hadn’t managed to get around to booking. So a while ago, when looking for a place to go driving to take advantage of the car hire that Kirsten had promised to buy me for Christmas, we thought it would be an ideal opportunity to combine the two. br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”The Car/spanbr /br /There are really only two types of car hire – the cheapo ‘Hertz’ style, where you pay a price and choose a car type (economy, compact, super-compact etc) and you get what you get. Then there is ‘executive’ or ’sports’ car hire, where you play out your Bentley or Ferrari fantasies for £1000/day. br /br /Well I was looking for something in between, which was pretty hard to find as it turned out. We started off looking at a Golf GTi, which seemed to fit the bill for a decently fun car at reasonable rates, though not many places had one for rent. There was one at a local car hire place near us (with the paddle-shift manual too!), but by the time the height of winter had passed and it was time to book a car it was no longer on the books.br /br /In the end, we found a Golf GTi at Avis Prestige in south-west London, so that’s what we booked. However, the day before I got a call from them saying that the Golf may not be available (it was in an accident, we later found) and would I mind an Audi S3 as a substitute? Well, sure I would! br /br /(For those not in the know, the Audi is broadly similar to the Golf but its about 50kw more powerful and has 4WD, while also boasting a bit higher interior spec etc.)br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”The Road/spanbr /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.tabarias.com/jasonuk/uploaded_images/RomanticMap-705869.gif”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 153px;” src=”http://www.tabarias.com/jasonuk/uploaded_images/RomanticMap-705865.gif” border=”0″ alt=”" background=”white” //aWhen doing some research on places to drive in the Cotswolds, I came upon this ‘Romantic Road’ idea; it seems someone has picked out some choice driving roads that links the idyllic little villages that make the Cotswolds so special. Not only would the driving be fun, but we’d get to see the countryside that we often cannot when using public transport.br /br /I downloaded the Romantic Road details from the Cotswolds tourist board website, and hoped for the best – I had no real sense of whether this was a good idea or not. Nonetheless it seems to fit the fit the bill – two driving loops (A Road for Today and A Road for Tomorrow) suited our plans perfectly.br /br /You can click the map image on the left to see a map of the towns we visited.br /br /span style=”font-weight:bold;”The Weekend/spanbr /br /We were staying in Cheltenham (the place of the famous horse races, which actually start on Tuesday) – one of the larger towns in the region, and perhaps its unofficial capital. So we headed off in the direction of Cheltenham on Saturday morning, pleased that it was dry if not exactly sunny. br /br /The M4 west carried us most of the way there. It was the pleasant, civilised and safe 150km/h cruise that I expected from previous trips most of the way there. We arrived in Cheltenham about 11, and were immediately impressed – it had the grandest old buildings, apparently Roman-influenced (but that’s just what Georgian architecture looks like), and a sense of regency that only towns like Bath and Oxford had matched in my previous experience. We stopped in Cheltenham for a quick brunch before starting A Road for Today.br /br /Our decision to drive the Romantic Road was a good one – it was just awesome! The directions were easy to follow and the roads took us through some awesome B-roads that were twisty and fun, but importantly showed us the greatest sides of this beautiful area. It was immediately apparent that the stone walls and cute Roman-era villages were not going to stop. They just kept coming, one after the other, interspersed by rolling farmland and idyllic countryside. Even despite the grey weather, the whole area just shone with natural beauty.br /br /The description of the Romantic Road on the tourist website says it better than I can:br /br /blockquoteIn an area rich in history and natural beauty like the Cotswolds, it is sometimes difficult for visitors, even those who have been before, to get to know the country roads and traditional villages. The Romantic Road provides touring routes that are easy to follow and trace the tales of the many artists, writers and craftspeople who have drawn inspiration from the Cotswolds. It shows off the loveliest villages and landscapes, reflecting the romance of their history and literary heritage./blockquotebr /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3590/3339469430_7f81ca9e69_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3590/3339469430_7f81ca9e69_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aWe stopped for lunch at Stow-on-the-Wold (a high town perched on a hill – “wold”). We almost randomly chose a pub that looked decent, to be surprised with a gorgeous a href=”http://www.cotswoldlife.co.uk/” target=”_blank”Cotswolds Life Magazin/ae interior and some excellent home-style food. After a shared liver parfait starter, I had a thick slice of home-made bacon with a fried egg and amazing fat chips and Kirsten had the tastiest mushrooms on toast I had ever experienced.br /br /We headed back to Cheltenham and our cheap and cheerful hotel for a quick nap before heading out to dinner. Kirsten had booked a table at a restaurant serving pan-Middle Eastern foods, which made a great break from the onslaught of French and Traditional British foods we’d been having lately (no matter how good they were). My chicken breast with cardamon and rice sounded plan, but the tastes were deep, layered and exotic – we were very impressed.br /br /We rose rather earlier than expected the next morning and headed out on A Road for Tomorrow. While they were forecasting rain, we had blue skies (at least for time being) and we had to take advantage of it while it lasted. While the drive was much as Saturday’s was (that is, totally amazing from both the perspective of the views and cute towns as well as fun to drive) we did continue to encounter a lot of one-lane, two-way roads. Having to pull over to accommodate other oncoming traffic (either fully on the back roads or partially in the narrow-street towns) was starting to get a little tiresome.br /br /It wasn’t long before the blue skies were clouded over, and then it was only a matter of time before the rain fell. It wasn’t the limp London drizzle either, it was hard, driving rain combined with a fearsome wind which abated frequently to let enough sun in to blind. Driving in such conditions was tiring, and we settled into a nice French restaurant in Painswick for a ridiculously good value lunch that probably would have cost us 4 times as much in London.br /br /The rain also showed the car’s only real dynamic shortcoming – the slightly distant steering feel that is common in Audis and 4WD variants in particular. Aside from this one flaw, the car was amazing. The turbo engine gave it bags of torque right across the rev range, so swapping cogs was often a fun option rather than a necessity. The suspension was firm when you needed to be and supple enough to soak up the worst of the back-road bumps and the traction from the 4WD system was just amazing, particularly in the wet. It was happy to cruise along at 160km/h but fun the slower corners and long sweepers. But the best trick was the way it would just pull away in 3rd gear from 60km/h to whatever speed to wanted to do almost instantly, a wave of 350nM pushing you along. I can, and did, do it all day.br /br /The drive home was uneventful, aside from a little road works and an accident on the M4 that delayed our arrival in London by 30 mins or so. I was sad to hand the keys back, but I had really wrung the best out of that little car over the weekend, and in some of the picturesque countryside I am ever likely to see. In all, an excellent weekend.br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to the Cotswolds a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157614914471499/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

Down South – Brighton

a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3552/3301011090_c2a22064da_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3552/3301011090_c2a22064da_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aThis weekend we went to visit our friends Laura and Al in Brighton, on the south coast. Saturday turned out to be an awesome day (at least when compared to the weather we’d been having lately) – 13 degrees and bright blue skies. br /br /Of course we should have known that this would mean that half of London had the same idea to travel to Brighton for the day. When we arrived around 3pm the shorefront was packed with people and the main centre of town filled with day trippers. We took a couple of hours out before catching up with Laura and Al to walk around and bask in the sun, something we’d sorely missed for a while.br /br /Rather than heading to the main pier, which we’d seen previously, we headed to the (marginally) less popular West Pier end of the seaside. The West Pier (pictured, top) burnt in a fire some years ago, and is supposedly on the brink of being restored, but for now proves to be a really interesting view on the seaside.br /br /After soaking up some rays, we headed through the vibrant Lanes – small winding streets of shops, varying from interesting second-hand stuff to designer clothes and jewellery. By now the sun was heading down and it was starting to get cold again, so we were picked up by Laura and headed back to their house for a while.br /br /One interesting aspect to the trip was that Al’s band was playing that night, and we were going to see them. We previously didn’t even really know that Al played guitar, nor that he was in a band. As it turned out it was a relatively recent thing and this was to be one of his earlier gigs with Creature, despite the band itself having been together for a while sans guitarist.br /br /We headed into the Prince Albert pub to meet up with the rest of the band and had a few beers while waiting around for the headline act to finish their sound check. Creature were the support act, meaning they had little time to tune up, which meant we didn’t have to wait long to get some dinner at a nearby Italian.br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3351/3301026504_ddb4af2d56_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 160px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3351/3301026504_ddb4af2d56_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aWe headed upstairs to catch the last song of the support-support band (if you know what I mean) and get in a couple more drinks before Creature started. They played about 10 songs, and it was over quicker than I expected. The band defies categorisation to a degree, but it was basically pop-rock with some gnarly electronica/noise stuff over the top. It was actually really quite up my musical alley, and I enjoyed it a lot. The headline act, a rockabilly/Morphine kinda band were obviously much tighter and professional, but I wasn’t into that style of music.br /br /We hung around with some of the band members and other friends of Al and Laura’s for a bit afterwards and I managed to get myself a copy of their EP somehow, despite not having paid for it. I’m yet to listen to it, but I’m hoping they sound even better on CD than live. As we left, Kirsten and I noted how proud we were of ourselves – we don’t do gigs at all despite living in one of the world’s music capitals, so we were happy to rectify that. br /br /The night finished back at Laura and Al’s place with a now-ubiquitous Guitar Hero session, in which we all held up well against the ‘professional’ Al.br /br /The next morning after breakfast we headed out to do the Undercliff Walk (pictured), which stretches east from Brighton. The walk itself was pleasant despite the overcast and colder weather, and was made better by the tea and cake stop along the way. We’d only walked a few miles but we were tired enough by the end to need a nap on the train home back to London, having had a thoroughly enjoyable weekend by the coast.br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to Brighton a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157614300880404/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

Oop Narth (Manchester)

a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3207376228_21b94e174c_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3207376228_21b94e174c_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //abr /This weekend we went to up north to Manchester, the self-proclaimed home of the Industrial Revolution. Our urge to see a bit more of our ‘own backyard’ was coupled with a free first-class train ride courtesy of the fact that I travel on Virgin trains fair too much (for work purposes). All it took was some credit-crunch hotel prices, and we were there!br /br /It’s only just over 2 hours from London to Manchester by train on the weekend, which shows how efficient the UK rail network could be (but generally isn’t). We arrived around lunchtime, and rather than the rain and forecast sleet we were greeted with blue skies – excellent walking weather.br /br /We dropped our stuff off at the hotel and immediately headed south west, towards the Trafford Park area. We had purchased some Tourist Tracks MP3 audio guides, which had done a good job for us in Oxford, Cambridge and Bath, and were preparing for another interesting walk. It started around the Lancashire Cricket club, and we could see the Manchester United stadium in the distance but otherwise it was just a quiet business park/shopping district with no-one around. Although its not a massive city (population around 500,000) we expected a little more action.br /br /As the walk progressed, we found it discussed nothing more than what used to be here before it was a business park – some of which were not all noteworthy in their original state, and much less so when replaced by a massive Currys electronics store car park. It wasn’t long before we abandoned the walk in the Salford Quays area, part of the massive urban redevelopment going on around Manchester. We happened to be near a photo exhibition that I had wanted to see, much of which was about Manchester through the eyes of photographers who had worked on the Guardian newspaper over time. This, and the nearby display of landscape photos from the coastal areas around Manchester, were both informative and entertaining – more than can be said of the walk.br /br /By this time the sun had faded and the night was starting to draw in (around 3pm – it is a few degrees further north after all!) so we headed back to the central part of the city to explore the area. We went into the main shopping district, and it suddenly became apparent why the outskirts of the town seemed dead: everyone was in the centre of town. The shopping areas and surrounds were packed with people of all ages, and it gave the city a really positive vibe. More importantly, it was encouraging to see a city full of young people that didn’t look despondent or bored – there was clearly stuff to do in Manchester, and they were doing it.br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3404/3206545701_73fd20b890_m.jpg”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;” src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3404/3206545701_73fd20b890_m.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”" //aAfter drifting into the happening Deansgate area, full of restaurants and bars, we headed back to the hotel for a quick break, before heading out again. For dinner we picked the “best Cantonese restaurant in Manchester” for dinner. It was a very busy restaurant, and usual when dining outside of London, we took a second to get used to the idea of old people and children being out and having a meals, and groups of families eating together. The food was not all that special in hindsight, but it did allow us to see the pretty impressive Chinatown area – bigger and more comprehensive than I expected. br /br /After our massive dinner (not only did we over-order, but we got an extra dish because the waiter stuffed up) we decided we needed a walk to settle ourselves. We headed south towards the Canal St area, known for its night clubs (many of which were gay/lesbian). It was a pleasant walk along the canals, with a very European vibe. As we walked, we were amazed by the girls wearing next to nothing standing in the freezing winter night – a trait we’d been told to expect in the North. As we headed around the block we saw a guy crossing the road get into a punch up with a bunch of (south) Asians in a pimped-up Honda Civic – serious enough to demand the attention of the local police, who arrived quickly. It was good to know that the clichés and stereotypes has some truth behind them.br /br /We didn’t have much time to see more of Manchester the next morning as our train left about an hour after we woke up, but we managed to get a quick walk in through the south and west of the compact city. Again bathed in sunlight and blue skies, you could tell by the old regal buildings that this was a city with an enviable history. However, it was the many striking modern buildings and the vibe of action and positivity that showed that Manchester, unlike too many of its Northern siblings, is also a city with a future.br /br /You can see more photos of the trip to Manchester a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jasontabarias/sets/72157612721699440/” target=”_blank”here »/a.

 

New Mac

a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.tabarias.com/jasonuk/uploaded_images/features-gallery-front20081014-732478.png”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 117px;” src=”http://www.tabarias.com/jasonuk/uploaded_images/features-gallery-front20081014-732374.png” border=”0″ alt=”" //abr /It’s finally arrived!br /br /[Alert - if you are not interested in reading about my new Mac, stop reading now. There's nothing else for you to see here.]br /br /I’ve been procrastinating over buying a new Mac for some time now, but once it became clear that Apple was not about to drop its prices in response to the worldwide economic downturn I decided now was as good a time as any to buy a new one.br /br /My trusty old Powerbook G4 was a truly mistimed purchased. I bought the absolute top of the line 15″ model about a month before they switched from PowerPC to Intel chips (seriously – who saw that coming?). I tried to console myself that after years of owning Macs I knew the one thing that you didn’t want was a first generation Apple product, but it didn’t work. The Intel machines were a whole heap faster and fairly reliable by first-generation standards and it could not be denied.br /br /Nonetheless, JASONPB (pictured, below) powered on for years and years, and served me well. My computer is a massive part of my life – aside from holding almost all the data I need to live, it’s also my source of entertainment (as we don’t have a TV). But recently it was really starting to creak under the load of my main use for it – digital photo processing. My Sony A350 pumps out some really large RAW files, and I had enough of waiting literally minutes for each RAW conversion. Kirsten was used to me spending hours after each holiday just processing imagines. The next generation of MacOS will only run on Intel machines. So now, almost 3 and a half years later, it’s time to move on.br /br /a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://www.tabarias.com/jasonuk/uploaded_images/powerbook-743357.png”img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 129px;” src=”http://www.tabarias.com/jasonuk/uploaded_images/powerbook-743339.png” border=”0″ alt=”" //aJASONMBP (pictured, top) is the not the top of the line Macbook Pro, but its decent enough. In 3 years, Mac technology has moved on significantly. I’m on a whole new version of MacOS (Leopard), I have a built-in webcam, massively improved ‘unibody’ construction, ridiculously improved screen (the old one looks like it’s got a window tint on over the screen, such is the brightness of the new, glossy screen) and of course much faster performance. Plus I get a whole heap of miscellaneous features that are increasingly only available to newer Intel-based Macs (such as GMail video conferencing! With Windows users!)br /br /The glossy screen was a welcome addition, though I didn’t think it would be after reading lots of negative comments about it. The glare is there, but you somehow just don’t notice it when using it, and it does give the screen a really cool saturation which lifts everything is displays – it’s really cool.br /br /JASONPB will not be pensioned off just yet. Its still got enough juice to cater for Kirsten’s modest web-browsing needs and will also serve as our TV (using our USB-stick TV tuner) until I can work out the licensing issues around putting that software on the JASONMBP. But even with that modest workload it’ll need a full refresh, just as soon as I am sure all the data has been successfully moved across to the new computer. That’s a job for a weekend in the not too distant future. Till then, it’s time to enjoy the speed of JASONMBP…