A Week at the Office

I didn't think I'd have enough to write about after just one week, but I changed my mind.

Unlike in The Office, my manager is not a paragon of destructive cluelessness, and I don't spend my days tormenting a skinny blonde guy.

Actually, my office is surprisingly familiar. I was expecting perhaps some fawning as an American, seeing as though we pretty much created the software industry, but no. And my teammates have an impressive knowledge of the latest tools and techniques, as good as mine, if not greater. I shouldn't be surprised, really ... a lot of great tools have originated in the UK. Spring comes to mind.

GDC has about 40 employees. The office is pretty much open-plan. There aren't cubicles; just rows of desks facing each other. There are no offices, either, even for the management team. Dress is "smart casual", which for men, means nearly everything short of a tie. I wear dress shirts most days, with either linen trousers, chinos, or dark jeans. I don't have much of a wardrobe at present but will steadily supplement it. Nobody wears a suit consistently, not even the owners.

Tea is taken informally. Typically someone will ask around to see who else wants tea, take orders, and bring the mugs around a few minutes later. This is probably because of the electric kettle: it makes more sense to make a few mugs at a time than just one. Someone usually asks every hour.

Margo and I have worked out a night each to stay late with coworkers. She gets Fridays and I get Thursdays (unless she's scheduled for casework, about every fourth week). Thursday I invited my team for a pint, and nearly everyone came. It sounds like I can expect to go several rounds when we do go to the pub.

(A digression: If I'd taken the 5 pm train home on Thursday, I'd have shared it with the Queen Mum, who went to Ipswich with Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. She was in first class, of course, but would have strode the same station steps I do twice a day. I guess this was cheaper than taking the Royal Train.)

(And while I'm blabbing about celebrity visitations to Ipswich ... apparently a riverside pub just outside town was visited by Ewan Macgregor and Colin Farrell a month or so ago. They took a break from boating as they're filming some boating movie.)

I'm in that new-job, sink-or-swim mode, paddling furiously, but doing okay. My first project has me working with lots of unfamiliar things: I'm learning another web framework, an Ajax library, an XML library, and an internal framework, and I haven't even started on the domain knowledge yet. But I'm sure soon enough I'll be familiar enough to flirt with boredom.

I like my teammates a lot. I haven't detected any politics yet. Like most American software teams, it's very much a meritocracy, and egos aren't big. As long we get our work done, we've got lots of flexibility. Once I'm comfortable, I expect I may work from home one or two days a week via VPN.

I'm doing okay with my commute. I wish I got some daylight, though. The sun doesn't come up until around 7 am, just as I'm getting into London, and it's dark when I leave at 4:15 pm. The streets are pretty empty when I call for a cab at 5:30 am, so I usually have ten to fifteen minutes to spare before my 5:53 am train. The train is usually at least a little late coming home, though, and traffic is very heavy in Ipswich at that time of day, so I'm often worried at getting to Sarah's after-school club by 6 pm, but all week I've been on time, often as close to 6 as possible.

I'm also the first person in the office, so I have to turn off the alarm. I usually have two hours before I even see my teammates. Good thing I'm a morning person. I'll be doing my best work at that time.

I'm slowly getting to know the Liverpool Street neighbourhood in London, but it's very overwhelming - there's so much to get to know. There's a lot of neat architecture. I'll take pictures soon but first I need to know what to take. I've found a few places for lunch and a few pubs, and soon I hope to find a non-Starbucks coffee shop, an HSBC bank, a post office, and a barber. For lunch I usually go to the basement of Marks & Spencer and get a takeaway wrap or sandwich or salad plus a drink (usually a blackcurrant smoothie) for under five quid. Takeout is a lot easier than sit-down; restaurants fill rapidly at lunchtime, and you pay a lot more to dine in. There are several large banks located nearby, and I've been told this probably influences the high lunch prices as the primary clientele tends to be bankers entertaining customers.

I'm starting to use my lunchtime to explore London. Thursday I walked toward the Thames; it took me 30 minutes to walk from my office door to the far side of London Bridge. I'm also maybe 20 minutes away from anything in central London via the Tube. It's a massive city, and I'll relish getting to know it, though I wonder, even after a few years of working there, just how much of it I'll get to know.

Flat Kit

I've been wanting to write for a while about how some household things are different here than in the States, so today I took a quick photo survey. Of course, not all households are outfitted just like ours, but I think ours is typical.



All electrical outlets are switched. You typically switch an outlet off immediately after unplugging a device, or when done using a device. My guess is that this is for safety: you reduce the risk of shocking yourself while plugging something in/out. It's also nice for parents of young children; it's one less step to child-proofing a household.

Our cooker (range/oven) is also switched directly.



Our toilet is dual-flush; the left button is for a half flush, the right for a full.



I think every shower we've seen in every bed and breakfast looked like this. I think a pump is in the housing. You don't see water towers in towns so I'm guessing this is how water pressure is aided. The flow is very low. The plumbing is also more exposed, so I'd think maintenance is easier.



I think radiator heat is more common than forced-aid furnace heat. I like it better: we use it for drying clothes, and we feel more able to open a window on occasion without worrying about losing heat so quickly.



This is our water heater, in a shed attached to the rear of our flat. In the States this would be called a flash heater; I forget what it's called here. There's no tank for storing hot water; it's all heated on demand by a gas furnace. This is also the source of hot water for all the flat's radiators. I'm used to having separate systems for heat and hot water; I think this is more elegant.



Lace is used inside windows to give a modicum of privacy. It is often seen in front-facing windows and bathroom windows. It makes sense because, from a front window, we can see at least a dozen other households, and they all can see us.



And I doubt there's a household in the UK that doesn't have one of these. It's an electric kettle. Flip the switch and it rapidly brings water to a boil before shutting off - usually a minute or two. It's usually used for a cup or two of tea, but is also useful for heating water for, say, cooking pasta - it's more efficient than heating it on the range. We plan to get one of these when we resettle across the pond.

A Few Words about Food and Drink

I found the best collection of bottled beer yet in Ipswich, and it's at the train station. Next door is one of the city's best delis. It makes sense; if you're commuting home from London, why not pick up a readymade dinner and something nice to wash it down with?

At any rate, I'm quite happy to have dozens of new offerings to try. I brought home two strong ales, one of them with a name I couldn't pass up: Nelson's Revenge. Sarah took my picture in a vengeful pose:



And this morning we were in the mood for an A-MER-can-style breakfast - lots of carbs and cholesterol - so we decided on pancakes with sausages. (We normally eat oatmeal or cereal; sometimes on a Sunday Margo will bake croissants.) As Margo had planned to go shopping anyway, she returned with sausages and the closest thing to maple syrup: a honey-like "gold sugar" syrup.



Mmmmm, pancakes.

Mated!

Today I stopped in at The Dove for a strong pint and a bite to eat (chicken curry). I chatted with a few guys at the bar while ordering (and tasting the three samples the barmaid procured after I asked for recommendations ... their taps change all the time so it's hard to know what's available beforehand).

On my way out, the barmaid gave a Cheers as well as some of the gents at the bar ... I even heard a "See you later, mate".

I feel like I've graduated.

Back to Work

Last night I accepted a job offer in London. The offer was unexpected - it was made about two hours after I'd finished interviewing there - but a very pleasant surprise.

I hadn't expected to take a job in London. My original plan was only to accept contracting opportunities. However, the best opportunities I've come across have all been for permanent positions, and I ended up thinking, why not? I wanted to contract for some of its advantages: I'd get to see a variety of work environments, and the pay is better. But a permanent job also has advantages: I'll make longer-term friendships, avoid fresh job searches every few months, and get paid vacations, bonuses, and other benefits. Another big advantage with a permanent position is that I have more opportunities to learn new technologies; in a contracting situation, there's more of an expectation to already have the required skills. And, I can leave a job at any time should the need arise.

On Monday I'll be starting work with GDC (www.graphdata.co.uk), a firm providing geographical information solutions. They offer several Java-based web applications and web services, mostly to government clients. It feels like a good fit; their development team shares many of the same philosophies that I have. Because of this, and because of the location, I declined to wait on some other opportunities I've been pursuing.

They're located in central London on its eastern side, a few blocks from the landmark Swiss Reinsurance building (also known as "The Gherkin") and not far from the Docklands. Their site is also a few minutes' walk from London Liverpool Street Station, where East Anglia trains like mine terminate; this means I don't need to use the Tube to finish my commute, making it substantially shorter.

There's a lot of recent office development right around the station, in addition to several lovely plazas, one of which includes an ice rink, and lots of retail. I think it's all very attractive and will share pictures eventually. Unfortunately the GDC office is a few blocks past this development in an older building.

GDC has casual dress (well, casual for London: jeans are OK, but dress shirts are standard; I wouldn't imagine wearing a T-shirt). It's nice and it's what I'm used to, but I am a bit disappointed in that I was looking forward to playing dress-up with a few extra suits. I still get to indulge in spread collars and French cuffs, though. And my shoes will be more comfortable ...

I'm thinking my day will look like this. I'd get up around 5 am, prepare for the day, and take a taxi to the train station (about a 5 minute trip with good traffic) for a 5:53 train to London; this would get me to my office around 7:15. At 4:15 pm I'd leave and catch the 4:30 train to Norwich, arriving in Ipswich at 5:33. From there I'd join the taxi queue and get a taxi to Sarah's after school club by the 6 pm closing time.

I may find a better solution for after-school care for Sarah. At the moment, I've been unable to find a child minder who picks up from her school and also has evening hours (we only need coverage until 6:30; Margo is typically home by then). I may look into hiring a nanny, or, better yet, as we make more friends in our neighbourhood, we may be able to work out other arrangements.

The train is not cheap. The line charges extra for London travel (since it's in higher demand) and charges more for peak hours, so I'd be paying the maximum standard fare, about £440 a month. But this is expected; a lot of people commute from outlying cities to London, and Ipswich is considered by many to be one of many bedroom communities to London. I returned from my interview on the 4:30 yesterday and all the seats were taken, with perhaps a dozen people per car standing.

I may also buy a (preferably second-hand) bike and ride to and from the Ipswich station, saving myself about £20 per day in taxi fares.

I'm very, very happy to be going back to work. I was glad to sacrifice my time to take care of Sarah so that Margo could develop her career, but I was still hoping to find some way that I could still have a career, so I'm very glad to be able to have worked out this situation. Not working, it felt like part of me was sleeping, so it will be great to be fully awake again.

More About Newspapers

We've already written about the plethora of great newspapers available (like The Times, The Telegraph, The Guardian, The Daily Mail, and The Independent) and how much we enjoy them.

We're hitting a pattern now. Weekdays we may get a Guardian if we have time. Saturdays we get The Guardian again; Saturday is its Sunday Paper. There's sections for travel, money, family, and so forth, plus two glossy magazines, plus listings for clubs, cinemas, theatres, radio and television, which we keep around all week for when we want to see TV recommendations, all in a plastic baggie.

Then on Sunday we get the Sunday Times, again with extra sections plus two glossy magazines in a plastic baggie, plus a political cartoon from Gerald Scarfe, whose work I will always associate with his artwork for Pink Floyd's The Wall.

With either of these weekend editions, there's just so much great writing. One could skim it all in twenty minutes, but often I'm drawn into article after article. I feel like I could spent literally all day reading either edition. So we usually spend at least a few hours of our weekends lying about (I like to snack on some chips or peanuts and strong ale), just wallowing in great articles.

One big difference between UK papers and American ones is a lack of a comics section. There might be one or two dispersed throughout (for example, The Guardian runs Doonesbury daily), but no section per se. Margo gets her comics fix online.

Another difference is that papers sometimes include a bonus in those plastic baggies. For example, there might be a wall poster of animals or magic tricks for kids. Sometimes there are DVDs in cardboard sleeves. I've amassed a small library this way, including Triplets of Bellevue, Mona Lisa, Lord of the Flies, and Letter to Brezhnev. They're typically obscure films and, of the ones I've looked at, don't feature any extras, or even a menu.

Cambridge

Today Margo gave me a day off. I'd been thinking of a trip to Cambridge so I jumped on the bus to the train station.

The train fare was cheap compared to London and took about an hour and twenty minutes each way. Where there might be eight or more cars on the London-Norwich line, this was just two. The trains were a bit different, too, with the engine underneath so a separate engine car isn't needed, but it was noisier than I'm used to - hard to hear my iPod even.

I went in cold, not having a chance to do any research on essential attactions, like where the independent record stores and real ale pubs are. Outside the train station (and admiring the bike racks with hundreds of parked bikes), I could see the town centre wasn't right nearby, so I found a bus taking me there. It turns out I only needed to go about a mile and a half.

The town centre is fairly small: it takes just a few minutes to walk from one end to the other. Much of it is surrounded by the River Cam, wich bends around it. And a lot of it - most if it, probably - is taken up by the various colleges of Cambridge University. The campus buildings mostly surround a cluster of shopping high streets in the very centre.

At 11 am there was a boom in the distance, and eventually, everyone stopped talking and just stood there. It was surreal, like being in a movie and wondering, what is everyone stopping for? Then there were a few more quick booms, and everyone went on their way again. I think it was cannons and had to do with war veterans - this week is a remembrance.

It was neat to walk stones trod upon by Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, John Milton, Alan Turing, Stephen Hawking, Douglas Adams, and the guys from Pink Floyd. That would be a great alumni association to belong to. I could only walk by closed gates, being a Saturday, but I did get these pictures of some of the college chapels. Here's King's College:



Trinity College:



and St. John's College:



It's a bit weird having all this history, then you cross the street, and there's Marks and Spencer, Starbucks and McDonalds in the high streets.

There was also a lot of bicycle use. In fact, I saw my first example of recumbent bicycle advertising on one of the high streets: a guy rode his bike past (and you could hear his boom box hidden behind a fairing) with two-sided signboard on the back.

I crossed the River Cam to get this picture ...



... and then I doubled back into a pub I'd bookmarked earlier, where I had fish and chips and a pint of real ale at a great window table with excellent people-watching.

Then I spent the rest of my afternoon walking the halls of the Fitzwilliam Musuem, which has a great collection of works by English, Italian, Spanish, and Flemish masters, from medieval armour to modern art. It took me about an hour to see it all.

My train ride back was uneventful save for my seated proximity to some young American guys with Army haircuts. It had been months since I'd heard so many occurrences of "shit", "fuck" and "dude" in regular conversation, and left me wondering if there's a US base near Bury St. Edmunds, where they departed.

London Calling

IT recruiting is kind of a black box. I send my CV in, and I see what happens. By looking at my inputs and observing the outputs I'm trying to guess what goes on.

I started my London search for contracts or jobs two weeks ago, and took an approach that I thought was sensible: instead of just posting my CV, I only sent it for contracts that looked like a good fit. And all week long, the only calls I got were phishing. Not for bank information or anything, just about other opportunities - cheap market research. It usually goes like this:

Me, answering phone: Hi, this is Michael.
Phisher: Hi, is this Michael? (This is how I know it's a phisher. That, and hearing all the other phishers making similar phone calls in the background.)
Me: Yes, it is.
Phisher: I'm [some guy] with [some IT recruiter]. I came across your CV and I have an opportunity I'd like to talk to you. My client is looking for [six skills I list on my CV]. Does that sound interesting?
Me: Yes, it does.
Phisher: Great. How's your job search going? Are you having any interviews? Where? When? Who with? What names have you spoken to? [... and so on ....]
Me: If I'm clued in, I usually say, I'm just getting started and haven't interviewed yet. This usually shoos them away.
Phisher: That's just great. I'll send you an email with all the details about this opportunity.

And of course, the email never comes.

So, this past week, I thought, why not post my CV to one of the contract sites? And suddenly a switch was flipped: I got maybe a dozen calls right away about real opportunities. I even did some interviewing and have more scheduled this week. I would have expected the opposite: getting spam when I broadcast, and getting real callbacks when I carefully target.

At the moment I've got three opportunities cooking but haven't heard a definite no or yes on any of them yet. But it will be great to be working again. I'm already losing my techie vocabulary: these days, a bug scrub means cleaning the outside windows, and load balancing means hanging my laundry evenly.

Fireworks

As I write, fireworks are going off all over town. There's a fireworks display at Christchurch Park and lots of fireworks have been sold to individuals and they're going off in neighbourhoods all over town right now.

Tonight is Guy Fawkes Night. In 1605 he was caught in the cellars of Parliament with casks of gunpowder. His punishment was the worst at the time: to be drawn and quartered, to send a message that treason was not to be tolerated.

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...

Margo's Reflections on Paris

Mike captured a lot of the highlights of our trip, but I had some thoughts to add also, so here goes ...

First of all, the food truly was amazing. Even the restaurants in the most touristy areas had food that was really delicious. I thought that I would share my recollections.

On the first night, we ate at a small brasserie in Montmarte. We chose from the 3 course menu. Mike had some Quiche Lorraine as a starter and I had a delisious terrine of liver and pork, both served with green salad. For the main course I had beoef braised in a red wine sauce (but not Beef Bourgignon), and Mike had andouillete, a traditional french sausage made of pig parts that you really do not want to contemplate. Although he was put off by the strange chunkiness of the dish, I tasted it and it was really, really delicious, and beautifully seasoned. My dish was good, if not spectacular, and the side dish of gratineed potato with herbs and cream was delicious. For dessert, I had the tart du jour, pears in a custard base. Mike had creme caramel, and Sarah had chocolate mousse and loved it.

The second night, again in Montmarte, I had the best meal of our trip. For a starter, I had smoked salmon with blini and creme fraiche. Dinner was tournedos of duck breast. The breast was seasoned, pounded a bit, and then rolled up jelly roll style. Then the roll was sliced and the spiral pieces of duck threaded onto a skewer and grilled. The sauce was amazing: a reduction of duck stock with sauteed apple and a hint of vanilla. I know that it sounds odd, but the fruitiness of the sauce was amazing with the rich flavor of the duck. For dessert I had a crepe with a blueberry creme filling and violet-flavoured ice cream. Really amazing, and something that I wouldn't have thought to ever make at home.

Our other meals were less spectacular, but uniformly delicious. I hated to leave France, as food in British restaurants is often very uninspired and always very expensive.

OK, enough about the food we ate ...

I also enjoyed window shopping (or as the French call it, window licking) in the small markets in the neighborhood. It is not true that there is a boulangerie on every corner ... there tend to be at least a couple on each block. Also a fromagerie, charcuterie, fruit stand, flower shop, and patisserie. Every couple blocks there was a seafood shop with the most beautiful fin fish and shell fish in incredible variety. And the shops were crowded with people purchasing the components of their supper with baguette tucked under their arms, or poking out of a shopping bag. When you buy a tart or cake from the patisserie, it is not only packaged in an attractive box, the box is then tied decoratively with a red ribbon. It was wonderful to observe the attention paid to the ritual of buying and selling food.

Often as we walked through town, there was music. I didn't really mind the buskers, as most of them played beautifully and it was a pleasure to eat a meal or ride the subway with a soundtrack to accompany the sights and smells.

I had been warned about the unfriendliness of Parisiennes, but we didn't encounter this at all, and much of the time we were treated very warmly, often I think because we had Sarah with us. We did make an attempt to speak French most of the time, and although our French is beyond atrocious, this seemed to be appreciated.

I had also been warned about the "Merde du chien" (AKA dog crap) all over the sidewalks of Paris, but we didn't see all that much.

All in all, it was a really wonderful experience, and a very sensory experience as well, with rich sounds, sights, smells and tastes wherever we we went. As I walked in the neighborhood with Sarah, I often asked her to stop and tell me what she smelled. She was not fond of the fishmonger's or the fromagerie, (with rows and rows of stinky cheese that is said to smell like the feet of the angels). The patisserie, boulangerie, and fruit shop met with a higher degree of approval.

I'll write some more later about the sights. As usual, I was thinking with my belly as I began this post. My final thought tonight is this: If the French have a reputation for being snooty about their cuisine, all I can say is that I do not begrudge them their pride. For a foody like me, Paris was heavenly.

Margo

Our Not So Happy Halloween

Well, not unhappy ... we just didn't have one, really.

Weeks ago Margo had already got Sarah's desired costume: she was The Flash. Red suit with yellow trim. She loves the costume. But when the actual Eve of All Hallows came around last night, several factors conspired to keep us inside.

One was the weather. It was unusually cold and very windy.

Another is that we haven't integrated well enough into our immediate neighbourhood yet to know what's going on. Due to the English Reserve, people have been friendly enough when we see them, but no one's come by to say hello since we've moved in, and we've yet to get (or make) any invitations for dinner or such. We do know our immediate neighbours, but none with children. There are at least two families with children further down our street, but haven't quite made contact yet: the times we do meet, we're in a hurry to get our kids to school, so it's hard to get good conversation going. We really miss our Portland neighbourhood group!

And thirdly, Margo and I were both too tired. Me, I was sick. I don't know if the Champs-Elyssées traffic pollution lowered my resistance, or the closed airspace of our hotel room assisted, but somehow I ended up with Margo's cold, and it hit hard. I could hardly talk yesterday when it got to my throat - Sarah said it sounded like I was yodeling. It's set back my contract searching by a few days too.

So Sarah stayed in her costume anyway, some of us ate a bit of candy, and we watched several "Treehouse of Horror" episodes of The Simpsons and Margo and I laughed ourselves silly.