After eating, I got back to my room, got myself ready, gathered together my book for tonight's project, recharged my camera battery, then went downstairs. There I met a number of my colleagues. Kirsten took my arm and said in a great conspiratorial voice, "we're sitting at the back of the bus on the way home tonight."
I had no idea what this meant, as though it was a coded phrase for something else, but I soon discovered that Kirsten had secreted a bottle of brandy in the back of her backpack. Course Director Simon Green told us on Saturday night that anybody who was caught under the influence as they got on the bus to the obsevatory would found themselves declined access to the coach. It's severe, but I only have to think about the extreme darkness to realise what a dangerous place the observatory is.
After a long journey we arrived at the observatory on time, and had a speedy and efficient planning meeting. Derek was his usual unnecessary officious self, but after the day I've had I am actually starting to warm to him, after a fashion.
Had our evening meal, which was its usual eclectic mixture of all sorts of things. I ate mine quickly and stepped outside to phone home. After the emotions in Port d'Andratx this afternoon, it was good to talk this and a couple of other things. Rob (the lad on the course who has been unwell), is on the mend. Turns out he had the norovirus. This is the lad who attempted a serious conversation with Roger the other day about faster than light travel. We have consequently nicknamed him Warp Drive.
He is also the only smoker in the entire cohort, so he has grown accustomed to stepping outside at regular intervals. I have run into him each day when I have stepped outside to phone Alan just after mealtime. Warp seems nice enough I suppose, a classic sci-fi geek but he clearly has a few strange ideas.
At the planning meeting, we chose our stars from the lists, split up into two groups. My sub group, under the ever-quiet Steve as project manager, went out to the Clavius dome, to take our dark, bias and flat frames. This has taken us an absolute age, as we wanted to get more even pixel counts on the B flats compared to the V flats.
We are now battling with tiny gaps in the cloud to locate a reference star, in order to synchronise the telescope. It's frustrating and Storming Norman is starting to try dictating to people what to do.
Waiting in the telescope dome, for the clear sky that never comes.11.10pm. The cloud keeps coming and going, and it looks more like high level freezing fog than actual cloud. Steve, tonight's project manager, was in agreement with Derek and me, that we should go indoors and work on some archive data. The Scottish tosser, who just refuses to shut the fuck up and let others speak, wanted to stay outside. Our activity tutor unfortunately agreed with him, however the CCD camera stopped working. Just trying a restart to see if that will resolve it.
Getting frustrated tonight at getting nothing done, Norman shooting his mouth off, and wandering away.
The weather is not really improving, so it looks like we are heading indoors after all. Good job too, really. Still, the other half of the group are apparently making great strides with the archive data, so all is not lost tonight.
It'll soon be time for the midnight snack (this is usually industrial strength coffee, bread, cheese, ham and biscuits) so maybe this is a good time for a break anyway. Feeling distinctly narked off tonight.
12.22am. Finishing up the midnight snack, then our half of the team will start on data analysis. Just had a fascinating conversation with Paul (who is rapidly becoming a really good friend) and Kirsten, apparently they went shopping earlier on. Specifcally, they went shopping and bought some cans of lager and some brandy. They seem to be attaching great importance to this, so I am expecting some fireworks later tonight after we finish. I have barely had any alcohol all week, a couple of glasses of lager and a vodka and orange. Haven't missed it either really, especially with the very long hours and messed up body clock.
Tonight can only get better, especially if Norman (who looks like one of Dexy's Midnight Runners in that damn flat cap) shuts up for long enough. Once more unto the breach...
1.18am. We are moving our data analysis sub team into the canteen. Can't hear ourselves damn well think in the computer lab, and many of us are getting very fed up. Norman is being loud and annoying, Stalin (Derek) is being very slow and annoying, it's hardly a winning combination. I will not be choosing this asswipe project as my one to write up. Cross. More later.
3.14am. Things came to a head earlier between Norman and Steve. Norman's loudness and determination to be heard over everyone finally made Steve snap. I've never so much as heard Steve even raise his voice, so this was an event which left me open-mouthed. Steve was clearly very upset with him, and shouted at him, telling him that if he kept on riding over every decision made by him (Steve) then he (Norman) should take over as project manager. Roy arrived on the scene shortly afterwards, and I took Norman and Roy outside to explain the source of the friction.
Figuring that Roy would probably be able to mediate better, I sent Roy in to speak to Steve. When Roy came back out, I split our sub group of four into two pairs. I took Norman back to the computer lab, leaving Derek and Steve to work alone.
Norman has been fine on his own, and we made very fast progress, largely in part because the noise level was significantly lower, and there weren't four people trying to crowd around a computer.
We haven't finished, but we aren't far off. I'm just relieved that we have survived the night, and that the arguments were just words. I have never seen Steve lose his temper all week, or even get flustered, although it's not difficult for me to see when someone has irritated him. He is middle aged, softly spoken, and comes originally from Perth, where I daresay losing your rag and threatening to quit the project just doesn't happen!
Just about to head back for a full team meeting. It'll be interesting to see how the other half of the group managed. I know that Kirsten's group have had friction all week so severe that it makes our tempers look like a picnic, so I feel a little better that it's taken all week for things to boil over.
4.26am. Just had our group debrief. It all felt better when we came together to talk about it, and despite the fact that the data analysis was an utter disaster, the tutor was very happy with us. We have dodged a bullet tonight. Very glad that tonight's project wasn't the more intensely assessed one! The coach is here, so it's off back to the hotel.
Later. The coach picked us up, and Paul, Kirsten, Roy, Pete and me all ended up on the back seat with cans of San Miguel. There was a very loud comedy 'cough' from the whole row to 'disguise' the opening of the cans, which I thought might lead to one of the tutors coming up to the back to find out what was going on, but people seemed tired enough not to be bothered. I was giggling and coughing so much at the silly coughs that I couldn't open mine, so a smaller comedy cough had to be arranged, although we were not exactly fooling anybody.
Lots of silly stories were exchanged, in particular, the Lab Coat Story (from SXR103). It was mentioned that Kirsten and I will be doing SXR207 later this year, and we have persuaded Paul to sign up for this too, on the same week. It would be really nice to have another friendly face there.
The coach drew up outside the hotel, and Paul issued his instructions in no uncertain terms. Dump bags, leave room, make way to lobby in less than 2 minutes, or you get left behind.
2 minutes later we were all back in the lobby, and we made our way down to the beach. It was still pitch black. I didn't really know what to expect, however from Kirsten's bag, a bottle of supermarket brandy and five plastic cortado-sized plastic glasses that had been appropriated from the OAM cafeteria.
Pete was behind the camera, so he does not appear in this photo.Within only around an hour, it was starting to get light. Once it started, it got light very quickly. It would have been nicer had it been cloudless, but we didn't have that kind of luck. We had a group photo taken as above, then when it got lighter, another was taken:
Slightly blurry, not sure why, but it seems to represent the evening quite well.
The brandy did not take long to be exhausted. Although it was a large bottle from a local supermarket, it was split between five of us, so it didn't really last too long. Someone managed to persuade everyone to take their shoes and socks off, so that we could all go for a paddle in the water. It was pretty cold, but funny nevertheless, and at the time it felt like an important rite of passage that we all seemed happy to follow.
At one point, Paul suggested that the five of us should line up one foot each in a row, and take a photo. I suspect we would have fallen into the water if we'd tried that, but a compromise was reached, and instead we each made a firm right foot print in the sand in a line, and I took a picture, which came out quite well. It's difficult to explain how important this seemed, but hopefully when you see the photo you might get an idea:
After running out of brandy, we decided to take a walk up the road (it was now broad daylight and nearly 8am). We found ourselves in a small Spanish cafe, showing a news broadcast. The newscaster was plastered with make-up, and Paul and I talked for a while about how thoroughly unattractive this is. I'd far rather see someone as they were meant to look, not with make-up so thick you'd have to chisel it off.
Pete, ever one to keep pushing things, decided that ten bottles of San Miguel beer would be a good idea, however nobody had a bottle opener. The barman was unfazed, and opened all of them. One of the bottles got smashed, which was very embarrassing, but at least it wasn't me who dropped it, although it was one of my beers.
After a while we went back to the beach to finish off the bottles. More antics in the sea. However, it was now fully daylight, and when Pete asked me where the nearest nightclub was, so that he could "score some weed", I knew it was time to call it a night before things got stupid. When you are tanked up you imagine you can do anything, stay up all day and night again etc.
We walked back to the hotel, parked ourselves in the hotel bar and attempted to order coffees, but no member of staff came. So with group hugs and kisses, and much praise for how the night had ended after such a stressful observation session, we bade each other good night, and finally turned in.
Slightly blurry, not sure why, but it seems to represent the evening quite well.The brandy did not take long to be exhausted. Although it was a large bottle from a local supermarket, it was split between five of us, so it didn't really last too long. Someone managed to persuade everyone to take their shoes and socks off, so that we could all go for a paddle in the water. It was pretty cold, but funny nevertheless, and at the time it felt like an important rite of passage that we all seemed happy to follow.
At one point, Paul suggested that the five of us should line up one foot each in a row, and take a photo. I suspect we would have fallen into the water if we'd tried that, but a compromise was reached, and instead we each made a firm right foot print in the sand in a line, and I took a picture, which came out quite well. It's difficult to explain how important this seemed, but hopefully when you see the photo you might get an idea:
After running out of brandy, we decided to take a walk up the road (it was now broad daylight and nearly 8am). We found ourselves in a small Spanish cafe, showing a news broadcast. The newscaster was plastered with make-up, and Paul and I talked for a while about how thoroughly unattractive this is. I'd far rather see someone as they were meant to look, not with make-up so thick you'd have to chisel it off.
Pete, ever one to keep pushing things, decided that ten bottles of San Miguel beer would be a good idea, however nobody had a bottle opener. The barman was unfazed, and opened all of them. One of the bottles got smashed, which was very embarrassing, but at least it wasn't me who dropped it, although it was one of my beers.
After a while we went back to the beach to finish off the bottles. More antics in the sea. However, it was now fully daylight, and when Pete asked me where the nearest nightclub was, so that he could "score some weed", I knew it was time to call it a night before things got stupid. When you are tanked up you imagine you can do anything, stay up all day and night again etc.
We walked back to the hotel, parked ourselves in the hotel bar and attempted to order coffees, but no member of staff came. So with group hugs and kisses, and much praise for how the night had ended after such a stressful observation session, we bade each other good night, and finally turned in.
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