Traveling to Tbilisi (with layover in Amsterdam)

14:42 EST, Monday, November 8, 2004. We’re sitting at gate D14 in Cleveland Hopkins airport. Our flight leaves at something like 15:25 (3:25 PM) and we’ve been here for at least 20 min, so we’re early. The terminal is very sunny. Must be facing west. The morning was surprisingly relaxing. Though I tried to wake up as early as possible, I don’t think I was awake much before 5:00. The last time I flew across the Atlantic I did my best to prepare for jet lag by staying up later and later, getting up later and later. Yes, I know, that was pretty stupid. Now that I have a better sense of what six-hours ahead really means, I’m hoping that having gotten a head start on waking too early will be helpful. However, I’m not at all confident. That’s because I’ve done the math. If we are leaving at 15:25 EST and arriving in Tbilisi at 2:00 AM Tbilisi time (whatever that is) and Tbilisi is 8:00 hours ahead of us, then that means that we will be arriving at the equivalent of 18:00 (six in the afternoon) our time. Furthermore, when we leave Cleveland that will be 23:25 in Tbilisi. We should sleep on that first leg (to Dulles) but I’m betting that we (or, at least I) don’t. (As I muse on time changes, it would appear that our plane has arrived since I see passengers deplaning through our gate. It’s 14:50). So, if we are arriving at 2:00 AM and right now it is 23:25, then that means that we will be flying for 2 hours and 45 min, plus 24 hours, minus various layovers. The layovers consist of 45 min in Washington and 12 hours and 40 min in Amsterdam. So, 26.75 - ~13.5 = 13.25 hours of actual flying time, and therefore actual sleeping time (ya right). That sounds great, except that those 13.5 hours are spread over two days and, of course, there is no way that we will be sleeping during them, nor wanting (or able) to sleep during much of our layovers. The important question then becomes whether we have it in us to make it through our first Wednesday in Tbilisi without falling asleep on our feet (bring on the coffee!) or whether we have what it takes to make it through our 12 hours in Amsterdam (bring on the beer!). Stay tuned….

 I will be reading Richard Dawkins’ The Extended Phenotype, Oxford University Press, during the trip and, just for the heck of it, will present interesting quotes that I’ve gleaned as I read. For instance, “…the replicator should be thought of as having external phenotypic effects, consisting of all is effects on the world at large, not just its effects on the individual bodies in which it happens to be sitting.” p. 4, Dawkins, 1999.

17:46 EST, Monday, November 8, 2004. And then we got on the plane, in Cleveland and… nothing. Our departure was delayed by at least 40 min. By the time we landed our connection was lost. Yes, we sprinted to the gate. Yes, we got there before the plane was set to depart. But, no, we were not allowed to board. How do these things work? What exactly is the policy? The planes leave before the advertised leaving time? Then why advertise that time? I simply do not understand. (Though presumably what really happened is that they gave our seats away on the assumption that we would never show up.)

No problem, the nice people at gate B19 told us. We can easily still make it to Amsterdam to catch our final leg to Tbilisi, it’s jus that we won’t get to Amsterdam until 12:00 noon. On the upside, that is a lot more time for sleeping. On the down side, that’s a lot less time in Amsterdam. The catch, though, is that in order to get us to Amsterdam we first need to get to a city that has a flight that is scheduled to go to Amsterdam. Let’s see, that would be, uh, Minneapolis. So, less than an hour after getting off our plane going from Cleveland to Washington we got on another plane, fly over Cleveland, fly even further than our first flight to then go past Cleveland to Minnesota, only then to finally fly from Minnesota to Amsterdam.

The upside (is there an upside? Well, there is the more sleep part) is that maybe we will fly nearer to the pole this time. Could Minneapolis be closer to Amsterdam than Washington? Those of you with access to globes can now get them out and plot the two alternatives. My guess is that, well, it will be a longer flight! But it can’t be too much longer. The original transatlantic leg was set to span from 17:20 (i.e., 5:20 PM) to 6:55 (i.e., 6:55 AM), or seven hours and thirty-five minutes (given a six-hour time difference). This new flight will be from 21:05 to 12:10, or 15 hours minus, what? Seven hours = eight hours (plus five minutes). Not much of a difference. I guess Minnesota isn’t that much father from Amsterdam than Washington DC. Who would have thunk?

Well, at least there should still be time for beer, but I no longer know about taking in any museums while we’re in Amsterdam. We arrive at 12:10 and then leave again at 19:35. If it takes one hour each way to Central Station, and another hour to be safe on the tail end, then that gives us 7.25 – 3 = 4.25 hours in Amsterdam. That almost seems like a reasonable amount of time! But I suspect that it is going to be time spent strolling rather than time spent museuming. Oh well. But I’m sure we’ll be able to get in at least a little bit of eating, and let’s not forget that beer. ;-)

“…replicating molecules ensure their survival by means of phenotypic effects on the world.” p. 5, Dawkins, 1999.

18:50 EST, Monday, November 8, 2004. While still back in Washington, Talia declared that she was hungry. Fortunately, there was a food court about 100 feet beyond our new gate. Understandably, Talia couldn’t make up her mind. By the time the last call for boarding was made, she was still over in the food court—her second trip, actually. Ultimately she got nothing to eat. Fortunately, I had come prepared (having done this sort of thing before), so while we endured yet another lengthy taxi, we munched on gorp (that is, good ‘ol raisins and peanuts for you uninitiated) and also on baby carrots.

Meanwhile, Northwest declared that we could buy a ham sandwich from them for about five dollars (OK, these probably were a bit more than just a ham sandwich; who knows how many different kind of leftovers they were trying to get rid of). I asked Talia whether she liked ham and she declared, No! Still, she was starving and she’s bright enough to do the math (when it really counts). Therefore, when I said, “Don’t worry, they’ll serve some dinner on the next flight,” she declared, “But that’s in five hours!” I couldn’t argue. But I could offer her the two airline bags of peanuts that we hadn’t eaten from the first flight, and then along came some “braided” (and buttered and partially hydrogenated) airline pretzels. Those and a diet Sprite (actually a diet “Sierra Mist”) seemed to take off some of the edge. Turns out that she is a Sprite nut. Every time the beverage cart goes by (now twice on two different flights) she asked, “Do you think they’ll have Sprite (big smile)?” Fortunately, she’s willing to drink diet. The last thing we need is a sugared up nine year old on a 28-hour itinerary. (Oh yes, but we did get to see the Northern lights—19:55 EST.)

“Genetic causes and environmental causes are in principle no different from each other.” P. 13, Dawkins, 1999.

19:56 EST, Monday, November 8, 2004.  Back, yet again, to Cleveland, this time as flashback rather than as a fly over. Both Talia and I are wearing identical t-shirts that say, “PSM – Professional Science Masters – www.sciencemasters.com”. These were a gift from my aunt. Apparently both of us, my aunt and I, were involved in buying large quantities of t-shirts over the recent past (mine will be available through my web sites after Thanksgiving, I hope). At any rate, no fewer than four (or was it five?) people stopped and said, “Now I have to ask you, what is a science masters?” Now that’s an effective t-shirt (or, at least, a visible and puzzling t-shirt). Naturally this consistently put me on the spot. Just what is a Professional Science Master? I think the answer is: A terminal graduate degree offered (and advertised) by certain institutions, at the beginning of one’s graduate career, as an alternative to seeking a Ph.D. Professional masters are likely much more employable than Ph.D.s (and probably make more money, too). With luck (probably much luck) Amsterdam will be warm enough to get some shots of Talia in her PSM splendor (P.S., Talia gave up on napping long before I did—I actually got some sleep in—and is sitting next to me quietly reading her novel as I write).

“[Genes] march through generations, influencing the form and behaviour of a succession of mortal bodies.” P. 14, Dawkins, 1999.

20:46 EST, Monday, November 8, 2004.  So, let’s see, we’ve been traveling since about 11:30 (AM). Let’s call it 11:45 to keep the math simple. Thus we’ve been traveling for nine hours and in that time we have done what? Flown 1000 miles in the wrong direction? Hmmm. But, through the magic of geometry, in fact we have flown only one-half hour farther from Amsterdam than we otherwise would have been. Pretty spiffy, eh? On the other hand, we will be arriving five and one-half hours late to Amsterdam, so in fact we’ve been traveling for five and one-half hours in two different, opposite directions, both of them wrong. I’m tired just thinking about it. With so much flying essentially for nothing, the only inescapable conclusion one can come to is that, in fact, flying is cheap, which can only mean that energy is cheap, which can only mean that we should be doing this traveling thing more often. If only we had the time…

The view from the air of Minneapolis is much different from that flying into Dulles. First, this time the sun is down rather than just heading towards setting. But we saw the same sights flying out of Dulles as flying in, after dark, since we flew back essentially in the same direction from which we had arrived. At night, that second time, the Washington-area countryside is nothing like the lights of Minneapolis, which there are present for as far as the eye can see, concentrated, and consistent. Minneapolis, I infer, is not a small place at all, but instead a bustling metropolis (i.e., is “Minne” in name only) nestled up here against America’s version of the Great White North. (And as no great lover of cities for cities sake, I can only declare, “Yuck!”)

“There is no direct evidence that variation in tendency to remove empty eggshells breeds true. Yet clearly the assumption that it does, or once did, is essential… There must have been genes for removing eggshells… But there is no reason to believe that the loci controlling modern variation in an adaptation were the very same loci at which selection acted on building up the adaptation in the first place.” p. 24, Dawkins, 1999.

21:48 EST, Monday, November 8, 2004.  Minneapolis. Having deplaned from our DC9 we now find ourselves on board a DC10. This is one of those wide bodies, nine seats across back here in the cattle car. We had two seats in the middle, and I do mean the middle, not an aisle seat between us, much less a window. Fortunately, four sisters intervened, requesting that we switch with them so that they could sit together. So, now we are still in the middle, but at least I have an aisle seat(!).

Talia sits next to me struggling with her chopsticks as she attempts to consume spicy-peanut Thai noodles. We barely had time to buy anything. By the time we made it to our gate they were already boarding first class. But we figured we had time and we did, even to have our noodles cooked up fresh (well, fried up fresh; I’m sure they were precooked in water). While we waited for the noodles we took in a slide show of our trip so far, courtesy of the laptop, which we were able to plug in at the restaurant (dang inconvenient that the laptop all but lacks battery power—what do you want for a $238 computer, with shipping, courtesy of ebay?). Meanwhile, the possibility of an outlet on the plane into which we could plug the computer has been dashed, though I’m not surprised. With luck I will be able to pick up and/or borrow a proper transformer (converter?) in Tbilisi. There is no way, in the mean time, that we’re likely to blow through 300+ photos in Amsterdam in an afternoon. Meanwhile, The Thai noodles are pretty good.

Distance to destination (Amsterdam): 4157 miles (it’s 10:08 PM). 7:15 hours estimated flying time is ahead of us. Our estimated time of arrival is 11:21. Currently it is 4:08 local time (Amsterdam). I set my watch forward six hours—that’s six hours of instantly lost sleep. Yuck!

“…a subtle mix of drift and selection can produce adaptations superior to the products of selection alone.” (Which is another way of saying that rigidity is not necessarily conducive to creativity.) p. 33, Dawkins, 1999.

9:36 Amsterdam time, Tuesday, November 9, 2004.  Dawn came and went about 15 minutes ago. I managed to choose to get up just in time. At the back of the plane is the usual crowd of hydrators, stretchers, insomniacs, and the merely curious, with the latter hanging around the emergency exits looking out the tiny windows. However, turbulence picks up and that forces us back to our seats. Talia remains asleep, leaning on Francis, veteran of 41 years in the LA school system and former principal for at least some fraction of those 41 years. Hi Francis!

Right now I could really use a toothbrush! And a good stretch. And maybe a massage, especially of my neck. I think I’ll try to get a bit more sleep.

“Is it not reasonable to anticipate that our understanding of the human mind would be aided greatly by knowing the purpose for which it was designed?” p. 34, Dakins, 1990.

16:20 Amsterdam time, Tuesday, November 9, 2004.  A little over three hours until we leave for Tbilisi. We’re about to dine in a place called “de Keukenvan 1870” where we’ve ordered vegetarian schnitzel and Lasagna (and a draft Heinekin, which I must say doesn’t taste all that good). It was a cold day, especially where the sun wasn’t shining, but we were dressed almost adequately, so survived without too much discomfort (note to self: third sip of the beer was better than the first).

We basically spent the day, about three hours, walking around town and looking at architecture, people, and shops. The most striking thing about Amsterdam is how quiet its non-main streets can be. Rather idyllic. On the other hand, not breaking the silence, and that’s a problem, are more bicycles than seems possible for just one city. Even on quiet streets one may easily step off a curb into two, even three bicycles barreling down the street. And the also quite quiet trolleys, of course, are what really frighten me. I suddenly recall the last time I was here, when a dominant thought was, “Thank goodness I don’t have my children with me, they would be run over by a bicycle for sure.” So here I am in with my daughter walking the streets of Amsterdam. Yeash.

What more to say? The plane arrived in Amsterdam on time. We had a bit of trouble getting all of our ducks in a row to leave the airport (baggage locker, where to exit, money exchange, buying train tickets into town). But it wasn’t so much difficult as requiring about 15 more minutes of input than was absolutely necessary. Talia enjoyed the train trip into town; she really seems to enjoy taking everything in and has no particular agenda.

Once in town we ate falafel, and then didn’t take as many photos as I had hoped we would. This turned out to have been a good thing, since for lack of a plug converter, we wouldn’t have a computer to download photos to until Saturday!!

 It would have been nice to have spent more time in Amsterdam, though I’m not sure I would want to risk spending serious time there without the sun out. I think I see our food. Time to spend a few last moments enjoying Europe. Expensive meal, but fairly good.

“With the exception of a few genuine opponents of Darwinism, who are unlikely to be reading this, we are all in this together, all Darwinians who substantially agree on how we interpret what is, after all, the only workable theory we have to explain the organized complexity of life.” P. 35, Dawkins, 1999.

18:57 Amsterdam time, Tuesday, November 9, 2004. We are sitting at gate D49 in Amsterdam waiting to load. We’re both totally exhausted, ready to fall asleep the moment we come on board. The boarding is taking its time, not yet even started. That’s fine with us since the later we arrive the better. I’m hopeful that the luggage that I bid farewell to over 24 hours ago (unless one figures that some of those hours are just time-zone changes) will be in Tbilisi when we get there. We’re moderately set up to survive without our checked-on luggage, but it sure would be nice to have clean clothes, etc.

Woah, I’m really starting to fade now.

We managed to squeeze off two short e-mails to the states while on our way to the gate. These were of the “hey, we’re still alive” sort. Man, it’s strange not having a cell phone. Boy am I getting tired. 12 minutes post when they indicated we would start boarding, but still tons of time (>30 min) until we are supposed to fly.

We’ll be flying with some sort of team. A soccer team? They are a bunch of young guys (late teens to early 20s—I really am getting old) who all seem to be in shape and who are all wearing similar uniforms with the name “Georgia” on them. OK, time to load…