Jonathan Biddle – Made in Taiwan

Tag: Family

  • Winter in the Fens

    Winter in the Fens

    The Fens, while almost utterly flat, carry a certain beauty that gets under your skin.  It’s something in the expanses stretching to infinity that at once create calm and mild despair.

    There is surely no better time to feel this than when the landscape is covered under a layer of snow, robbing it of any vestiges of life and colour.  So naturally, we strapped boots, wrapped scarves and set off across the fields to the village of Toft, taking in Madingley on the way.

    The Fens are … flat.

    Tracks in the snow.

    Christmas trees

    The XX

    Apexes

    Tin buildings

    Shivering in the cold

    Snowy grove

    Signs of civilisation

    Some rather nice graffiti

    Barbed wire delicately supports the snow.

    And, almost at the pub!

  • D’Hiver de Paris

    D’Hiver de Paris


    “Moi?”

    It’s quite likely that I have been to France in the region of thirty times. I have canoed the Ardeche, the Tarn, the Loire. I have frolicked on the beaches of Normandy, of Bordeaux, and of the Mediterranean. I have carved snow in Corchevel, Meribel, Tignes, Val D’Isere, amongst others. I have taken in vantage points from the Massif Central, the Alps and the Pyrennes. But while I have seen the Eiffel Tower many times drifting by on our extended family car journeys, I have never been to Paris.

    My Dad decided that 2010 was the year to rectify this injustice, celebrating my Mother’s 60th birthday with the whole family, and giving our Baby Ben (‘BB’) his first trip abroad. The idea of arriving at Gard du Nord on Eurostar, likely mildly hammered on cheap Champagne, ticks all the right Eurocrat boxes, but when we discovered Easyjet was exactly half the price of the train we obviously opted to tolerate a ride with the shit-munchers and save the money for opulent feasts in the city’s eateries.

    Mum was delighted! Especially as she actually turns 59 this year.

    Notre Dame

    Our unashamedly ‘touristique’ weekend started with the short walk from our hotel to the religious heart of the capital; Notre Dame.  While disappointed there were no mad people swinging from belfries, it was amazing to see a place in the flesh that you knew so well.  The movies clearly use wide-angle lenses, for while the towers were tall, they lacked any intimidating. doom-laden silhouette I was looking forward to seeing.  But that could have been the icy wind talking; no-one was really motivated to stick around too long, and we made a bee-line for the Louvre.

    “The bells, the bells!”

    Subtle lighting inside was inspiring...

    Sensitive treatment of the roof...

    … and some bloody great big plasma screens.

    Warming up on the way to the Louvre – Hot Chocolate went down a treat.

    Mild bemusement.

    Gazing outside

    You can really see Dave’s chin!

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    Braving the elements again!


    The Louvre

    Local lads flirting with giggling hoards of visiting Japanese girls, armed with overpriced souvenirs.  It must be easy pickings.

    Focus of the first day of visits was really The Louvre.  The promise of warmth and dryness underfoot was balanced with a healthy interest in some of the vast collection of fine art.  And ‘vast’ is the word; we picked Flemish and Dutch masters, and barely managed to scratch the surface of the subject, merely taking in some of the more well-known masters like Rembrandt,Van Icke, Vermeer and then a whole hall full of ‘Rubenses’.  We left the French and Italian masters for the Japanese tourists, and did not have the will-power to attempt a run at the Mona Lisa.  I already know what that one looks like anyway.

    I must say, the scale and range of what was on offer was mesmerising, but I was left a little exhausted.  I am far from being an expert in any of these subjects, and I appreciated it when you were able to see the artists’ sketches or process, or when they grouped different painters together to give a degree of context.  I suppose, I would have just appreciated a little more curation, and less density in the way that the paintings were hung.  I feel like you could spend a fortnight in there; in London you would simply visit a different gallery in a different part of the city to see the range on offer.

    Deeply impressive, but a little intimidating.  Although Benjamin didn’t seem to feel the same pressure!

    Business class travel, down to the basement lobby area.

    Arriving in style!

    Snow gathering on the roof, we were happy to be inside!

    Views through the mini-pyramids

    Waving to a long-lost friend

    Pensive

    Brrr!

    Tracks in the snow

    Benjamin appreciates the Rubens hall.

    Benjamin’s first snowball fight.

    Run away!


    The Eiffel Tower

    No trip to Paris would be complete without a trip to the Eiffel Tower.  A sunny, icy, clear day held promise for being able to see the edges of the city, and we duly queued-up for the elevator to the first level.  Sadly, it slowly dawned on us that they were not going beyond the first level, and this was confirmed when we were told ‘ice on the tracks’ made the ascent too dangerous.  Never mind, it was still a pleasure to see the fabulous structure, and get a feeling for the layout of the city from up-high.  We were even treated to a very memorable display of public art in the grounds of the tower.

    The fantastic subway.

    The approach.

    Greeting other visitors

    The space created under the arches is truly breathtaking.

    Over-engineered?

    Intricate details.

    A very public art show!

    On our way to the restaurant for lunch, the ice really made negotiating some of the walkways difficult!

    A very memorable lunch, taking in scenes of Christmas through the glass of the bar.


    Other Stuff

    If you ask me, it’s the ‘other stuff’ that makes Paris so pleasant; the moseying along the streets, the hanging out in the cafe, the buying the bread. Paris is almost uniform in its prettiness, as opposed to the highs and lows of London; 60s high-rise sat alongside Greek revivalist edifice, opposite the ultra-modern statement.  It almost reminded me of Japan, with its shops, eateries and gorgeous little details popping out now and again.  It’s certainly a place I should return to.

    Sartorialistes Parisiennes!.

    Art Nouveau (very reminiscent of Charles Rennie Mackintosh) up on Montmartre.  Especially love the spider’s web!

    More Art Nouveau on the Metro.

    Art ‘Even More Nouveau’ on the streets … Invader‘s art (as featured in the Banksy movie ‘Exit Through the Gift Shop‘)

    And one more.

    Views out across the city from Montmartre.

    Looking out towards the Pompidou Centre (definitely need to tick that one off the next time I go).

    Touring the streets.

    Some buildings I once saw in the Tour de France.

    Even the road-markings are interesting.

    Baby Ben

    But the star of the show, naturally, was Baby Ben.  He held up very well in the cold weather, and did very well facing delays at the airport in both directions.  I shall miss you, wee man!

    Gazing in wonder

    Looking very pleased with himself.

    Wait for it …

    Peepo!

  • In the Bleak Mid-Winter

    In the Bleak Mid-Winter

    I am lucky enough to be in Europe for the whole month of December, joyfully mixing two weeks of work, with two weeks of time with family and friends.

    The weather is cold. So cold, in fact, that it has delivered several dumps of snow and layered a delightful crust of frost over the fields on the way to the airport. To Paris!

  • Skype Group Video

    Skype Group Video

    Well it only took SIX YEARS.  Skype has finally added group video calling to its (all-be-it Beta) services, and we just gave it a test drive for the first time.  It took a few seconds to get going, but once in … it was a resounding success.  Apparently they will be adding it to their ‘Premium’ service offering from next year, though I am not sure how much money that will mean for us poor customers.  No matter; hilarious fun.  Here’s a link if you want to upgrade.

    Benjamin enjoying the internet from a different angle.

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  • Midsummer Madness

    Usually, when heading back to the UK, a healthy two-week window is necessary to really get over the jet lag and calm down properly. I didn’t quite have that luxury this time, however, and was restricted to one week of British Summer Time, Tour de France and Wimbledon.


    Super tent in the garden, filled the space to a tee!


    Jess looks cheeky, as ever.


    Just super to meet all the family members that I miss out on, while away! … and play with a silly Holga lens mod present that I had bought for Abe.

    However, what it lacked in duration, it more than made up for in intensity. No sooner had I landed, a pig had been slaughtered and spit-roasted in the name of my Dad’s 60th birthday, family members had descended from around the UK and I had sunk a few ‘test pints’ from the professional-quality draft beer tap(s) installed for the event. And thankfully for my Dad, Andy Murray was not in the Wimbledon final, or the party would have surely been significantly less well-attended. A blur of catchings up and barely a moment of sitting down, and the first weekend was dispatched.


    A nice cup of tea to round off a good ol’ tea party.

    After meeting up with Phil, Rich and a couple of other friends in London, I take the fast train up to Birmingham to meet with Mum and Dad for a couple of days of hiking. I had not spent much time in the north of Wales before, so it was great to sleep in the shadow of Snowdon; tallest mountain in England and Wales (I love how England feels it can claim other countries’ mountains as its own… Month Blanc, the tallest mountain in England and France).


    Sheep sheep sheep. Wales.

    I had always thought of Snowdon as a particularly boring hill, such as it is plumbed-in with a train to the summit and images of Victorian ladies getting taking their afternoon constitutional. It was with such a false sense of postcard security that we attempted ‘Crib Goch‘ – the most challenging of the approaches to the summit, and reading here, ‘a Class-1 scramble in good weather, it should be considered a climb in poor conditions’.

    Happily ignoring this, we attempted it anyway, and fell in behind a group of experienced climbers with ropes. Right then. Ideal conditions for Team Biddle to begin our ascent!

    The climbing was not extremely technical, but as we gained altitude, our confidence in the available hand grabs and invisible foot-holds faded somewhat. Trusting yourself to lift yourself up and around tall pillars of rock, when there is a several hundred metre drop on one side was not for the faint-hearted. No matter how firm the holds seemed, we were glad to be shadowing an experienced set of climbers, and shook our head worryingly as we inspected the ridge heading off into the distance.


    Starting off slowly.


    Almost time for a breather


    Planning ahead


    Views from half-way along were formidable.


    I barely dared take out my big new camera, relying instead on snapping away with my little Ixus!


    Incredulous smiles!


    Kinky boots


    Clouds in the distance

    And clouds. Having cleared the first section, and after wedging ourselves into the rocks at a minor summit to gorge and sandwiches and chocolate, the clouds descended and we lost contact with the leading group. An eerily expansive acoustic edge accompanied the final set of pinnacles, and we guessed that through the mist and clouds were drops ever increasing in height. It was with no shortage of glee, then, to happen upon the railway tracks up to the cafe at the top, and the best-tasting cuppa tea in England and Wales.


    The North Face.


    A long way down


    Vultures circling


    Looking back, as the clouds roll in


    This was definitely a good idea. I am sure.


    Edgy

    Dropping in for a final night of food and drink in Birmingham with Jess, I took the slow train back to Cambridge, packed up, and readied myself for one more long flight back to Asia. Fair England, how I do miss thee.

    … enjoy this video of some far braver souls, as they traverse the knife edge. Imagine, while watching it, me straddling the apex, legs both pointing straight down to different valleys. Not quite the dare devil!

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELdijJpGcyc]

    The story of a British Industrial Designer in Taiwan…

  • Hong Kong Sevens

    The Hong Kong Sevens – carnival of the Rugby world – landed in Hong Kong the same weekend as me, but I managed to assemble my own team to compete with anything they had to offer.

    As is customary when I visit Hong Kong, I seem to gather an improbable number of friends and family members together in one place at the same time – belying perhaps how quiet life really is these days. On this trip in question, my Mum & Dad were travelling back from New Zealand, Anke, Lars and Linnéa were en-route to/from Taiwan, Sam from England dropped by for a beer, and of course Tanja & Michael were on hand to provide the floor and great hospitality. Adding to the melée were Geoff and Kipp (designers from HK) and Kai (designer from Germany). So, that sorted dinner out then.

    We managed to squeeze one of most activities into 72 hours – hiking for those craving nature and escape, shopping and urban safari for Mum & Dad who spent the last six weeks staring at mountains and sand flies, and for myself a great window to spend some time with the team. Well, multiple teams, it seems. Intense and exhausting as ever; but brilliantly exhilirating all the same.


    Michael in the house / on the bus.

    Mum on a boat – we headed out for hiking in the really rather remarkable national park. Minutes away from Hong Kong, and you are dropped in wilderness (almost).


    Dad in wide-angle mode.


    Hellooo!


    Okay, so maybe wilderness is stretching it a bit. But we did see some Scouts.


    Tanja and Kipp chat on the beach.


    Anke, radiant.


    G’day Mum! Oh – you mean they don’t say that in New Zealand?


    First of about 500 shots of Linnéa in the sea (for the first time?). She seemed to enjoy it almost as much as us!


    Legless.


    Soaring


    Lunch in the surf shacks.

    On Sunday, we spent the day cruising the stomping grounds of Tanja & Michael: up in the north of the city near the flower, bird and fish markets. I visited there a few years ago, so it was great to go back, and indeed it’s nice to know they live in such a vibrant area. Always fun to walk around. And so we did, indluging in a bit of light retail therapy on the way (or I did at least).


    Bag o’ fish?


    Out like a trout (funnily enough, at this precise second, I am listening to Mr. Scruff’s ‘The Fish Song’)


    Geoff checks the LASER-ETCHED FISH. Yes, those are Chinese symbols on the side! I’ll try that with the cats.


    Miffies!


    Airing the house


    Shoes for a dog … or twins!


    Bird’s life


    Widescreen


    Apartments for sale


    Wherever you go in Asia (or the world?) you’ll always find groups of men doing improbable things with their spare time. Is life with their wife that hard? I supposed throwing yourself off a mountain on a bike is much the same.


    Forever amazed by the scaffolding.


    Linnéa seems as bemused as me.

    The story of a British Industrial Designer in Taiwan…

  • Wells Next-The-Sea


    Hiking in the bleeding cold weather on the north coast of East Anglia.

    I am presently sitting in a heavy haze of jet lag with the rain coming down outside in the way that only Taiwan can muster. Got back after rather a long night flight from London yesterday and have been battling e-mail demons all day (mostly slain, I might add). Felt I needed to find a little time to write up the marvelous weekend I had in Wells Next-The-Sea (what a quaint name) with the folks and newly wed sis and bruv-in-law.

    I’ll battle through the bleary vision and sausage fingers and say – great Christmas, and just what I needed to recharge the old batteries. 2009 ho!


    Cold air but beautiful skies.


    Norfolk is quite flat. A somewhat refreshing change from the mountains and hustle & bustle of Taiwan. For a wee while.


    My delightful sister.


    My old man.


    Will he make it?!


    Little rascals.


    The sun sets on 2008, and I am looking forward to what 2009 will bring – truly.

    The story of a British Industrial Designer in Taiwan…

  • Mud, Glorious Mud

    Dad and I braved the incredible (almost) sub-zero temperatures to attempt to ride along the new-fangled Guided Busway route from St. Ives to Cambridge, using the old railway lines. Running was smooth for much of the way, but we hot trouble where the construction ran out, and the mud arrived in typical self-adhesive fashion, entirely locking our wheels up, and leaving Dad dragging his bike the rest of the way (to the pub, at least).

    All very amusing – this time next year we should be able to whistle up there in no time.


    Trooper.


    Suspension not working optimally, perhaps.


    This never happens in Taiwan


    Just in time – cheers!

    The story of a British Industrial Designer in Taiwan…