I had switched my phototracker on while making breakfast, and it had acquired the four satellites it needs for a position fix in five minutes. I have now figured out what to do: the thing remembers which satellites it was locked on to when it was switched off. When you switch it on it tries to lock on to those satellites again. But when it is hours later, those satellites are under the horizon and it can't find them. When I reset the tracker right after I switch it on it forgets the old satellites and starts looking for new ones. These it can find and lock on to. When I walked out the door it was happily keeping track of my whereabouts.
On Nobelweg I saw the City Council has new posters on bicycles being stolen and found again. You need to be a comics fan to understand the posters; luckily they've provided a translation. I would have read it otherwise as "bicycle? fist spiral thundercloud bang!" (I read one exclamation mark as 'bang' because a) I've used email in the 1980s and b) the translation has got only one exclamation mark.)
I took the route through Frankendael; it was easy getting into the park, but I had to wait getting out. The gate was blocked by a truck. The skip it carried on the deck was too high for the gate, so the driver had partially unloaded the skip (which was dangling from the back of the truck) and was creeping through the gate (which was only slightly wider than the truck). The whole process took about 5 minutes and nothing was scratched.
At work I made more background material available for the LHC Start Event on Wednesday and transmuted, mistreated and mutilated a bunch of photos for the Typo3 CMS.
The whole day the sun was shining; until, of course, I walked out the door. It started to rain. I took the bus to Middenweg...
...where I got on the #9 tram to go to Mulligans.
I was meeting Collins there to go for dinner at the Nachtwacht. I hadn't been in the Nachtwacht for ages and I was drooling by the thought of a 300 gr tournedos.
Collins is leaving for the USA on Sunday around the same time as I'm leaving for Italy. Maybe we'll see each other at Schiphol.
Now when you're talking with people in the bar (back in Mulligans again), you could find yourself all of sudden sitting completely alone. You turn your head for a second and everybody's gone! They're outside, smoking a cigarette. I'm getting in the habit of just following the smokers I'm with, otherwise you miss half the conversation you were having with them.
I left Mulligans when the sun was setting; it was dry that moment and I wanted to walk home. The Stopera was already lit up.
I walked a zigzag route that took me across the bridge at Korte 's-Gravesandestraat and Mauritskade. When I got there it was already dark.
Ten minutes later, when I was 50 meters from my front door it started to rain again. Good timing.