Each time I have the opportunity to eat an English breakfast (like today), I eat too much. Who could resist to sausages, bacon, fried eggs, beans and potatoes anyway.

Then, I am sick the whole morning.

I spent a week in England years ago, jumping from B&B to B&B and every single day it was the same story:

ME: hummm sausages

MPW (my patient wife): Do not eat too much; you will be sick… again

ME: hum miam slurp hummm hummm

Then 15 minutes later (in the car)

ME: I had too much sausages… I am sickkkkk

MPW (ironic): really?

ME: ahhhhh… tomorrow I will just have a toast and jam

MPW: (…)

So I keep making the same mistake again and again. My last day in Disko island was another good example.

The lesson is quite simple and based on simple math:

Beerⁿ+ Lack of sleep + Boat(rough sea) = Sick

So the first thing I did was to finish my stock of Greenlandic beers in the fridge and then celebrate the last day by more beers (thanks god they didn’t had any Kahlua… I was ready for “white Russians”) in the local bar (looks like a soldier bar but with ABBA as soundtrack). We all came back around 4.00 AM with a local guy and two girls (one was obviously the mistress of the guy and the other had view on one of the researchers… I am quoting her: “where is mine???”) singing a kind of unofficial Greenlandic anthem. Of course, I had to wake up early to finish the packing and I was badly hangovered.

I was kind of confident for the 5 hours boat trip to the “mainland. I am not that happy on boat but most of the time, I am not sea sick. I spent the first hour taking my last pictures of Qeqertarsuaq and 1 hour working on my data.

That is when I started to feel quite bad. The sea was rough and the boat was moving a lot. The worse thing to do is then to concentrate on a computer screen (what I was doing of course).

I decided to go outside to take the fresh air… didn’t work.

I ended lying in the back of the boat, listening to episodes of “Arrested development”.

The good thing about sea sickness is that it ends as soon as you put your foot on the land. One minute you feel like if you gonna die, the minute after you are ready to go to the pub to celebrate the end of the torture.

Anyway, everything was close and I went to bed.

There may me a god after all…

It is refreshing to follow the footsteps of the author travelling Europe, describing in a very funny way so many places that I know by heart (his description of Belgium is very accurate).

Describing his problems with dogs that either want to kill him or have sex (I had the same problem with girls at some point… OK… only in my dreams), he says: “It wouldn’t bother me in the least if all dogs in the world were placed in a large sack and taken to some distant island – Greenland springs attractively to mind – where they could romp around and sniff each other’s amuses to their heart’s content and would never bother or terrorize me again.”

Putting aside the fact that Greenland in full of dogs (I would recommend to Bill Brysson not to go there), it is interesting to notice that Greenland is often considered as an antechamber of hell; a no-man’s-land where no one wants to end (for example, I saw in the TV-series “The 4400” the boss threatening an employee to send her to Greenland).

Actually, who wants to live in a place where the temperature is -35 degrees in winter and only reach 10 degrees in summer?

If this does not appeal you today, imagine how it was a couple of hundred years ago.

Nevertheless, peoples were living there in very precarious conditions.

During my last night at the Arctic station, we had a very nice dinner with the local staff. Luckily, I was sitting in front of the scientific leader, a very nice lady named Outi. She told me about Inuit’s houses and graves remains that can be seen close to the village and she kindly offered to give me a tour the next day.

And the last day in Disko island came. After the packing and cleaning of the labs, I went for a short walk around the station, climbing to find the source of the small river.

At lunch time, Outi came to pick me and a couple of other colleagues and she drove us to my “whale watching” and “shooting” spot. Walking around, she told us about the Inuits who used to live there, living in very small “houses” by the sea where they were taking the sea in small boat to hunt seals.

It was amazing to see how smalls these houses were and imagine how hard the life may have been there where you do not even have a tree for firewood. Beside the remains of the houses, evidences of human presence are everywhere. For example, you can find animal bones (I brought back a nice seal rib).

But what amazed me the most was the presence of the rudimentary Inuit’s graves. Outi spots one for us and I understood why I missed them both on Disko island but also during my hiking in Illulisat.

The grave was just a pile of big rocks in the middle of the desolated rocky land. Outi was told that this was a 200 years old grave of a young children. The only way you can tell that it is a grave is the presence of human bones that you can see through the rocks.

Can you imagine how hard it was to live there 200 years ago during winters with eternal night and -35 degrees?

So… who wants to live in Greenland?

However, to be perfectly honest, the most important part of a conference is not happening in the lecture halls. Everything is decided, new collaboration initiated, ideas launched, during the social activities, meaning in the bars.

To be 100% honest, scientific conferences are more or less a good excuse for travelling, visit nice place and drink with your colleagues (if you do not believe me, read “A small world” by David Lodge).

As a consequence, the success of a conference depends mainly on your ability to socialize; the ideal situation being when you know someone who knows everyone (which is the case when I go to conference with my boss).

The worst case scenario is when you are the newbie.

It is the case in the conference I am attending today.

It is my first participation to this conference; 90% of the 500 attendees are British and most of them know each other.

To make this a success, I need to find a “conference buddy”, a fun guy to hang around with, a scientific “wing man”.

That was my goal yesterday when I went to the welcome mixer “party” (after an overpriced fish and chips in a bad restaurant after failing finding a nice pub in Hatfield… Actually I either didn’t find the centre of the city or find it and it is then very depressing).

I love conference and I attend to a lot of them. There is something unique about British ones. You have fantastic breakfasts (sausages, bacon and eggs this morning) and the organized “parties” are a little sad.

Yesterday, the welcome mixer party took place in the campus bar. It looked exactly like a gymnastic hall in any highschool: a big square room with no windows and blue walls. The only difference with a gymnastic hall was the presence of a small bar (thanks god) in one corner. On the other side, a string quartet was sadly playing, the music being covered by the sounds of the conversation.

My boss sent me once a slide show showing pictures comparing ladies in a night club in England and a night club in Sweden: one being full of gorgeous blonds, the other full of wasted fat girls.

Nothing like that yesterday however I could guess that I was not in Sweden.

I grabbed my one and only glass of free glass (for comparison, in a conference in Portugal, we had an open bar with free booze, beer and wine and nice folk music) and started looking for my conference buddy.

One hundred people were already there, split in small groups of 3 to 10 persons. I rapidly found my prey, a guy who looked as lonely as me.

- Hello, you look as lost as I am. It is my first BES meeting and I virtually know nobody here.

He smiled at me

- This is also my first BES meeting

- My name is Sam

- My name is blablabla

- Nice to meet you.

Of course, his name was not “blablabla” and it is not a way to keep his identity secret (even if quite convenient). Actually, there is a strange psychological process activated in my brain when I ask some specific questions like “what’s your name?” or “How can I go to the train station?” As soon as the person in front of me starts to answer, I just cannot pay attention. My brain shuts downs. This can lead to very embarrassing situations.

After a couple of minutes talking about where we comes from and our research, our 2 persons groups attracted some other lonely foreigners lost in this British ocean.

At the end of the “party” (the string quartet commit suicide), our little group was quite nice: a couple of French, a finish, a Romanian, a German, a Swedish and a Belgian. It was a pleasant evening but I did not find my conference buddy (but it was good enough to find somebody I know during breakfast).

Today may be an exception.

I am on the road again.

And I will have some time to read, write and make some paper work.

I am on my way to Hatfield in England for the annual “British Ecological Society” conference where I will present some of my data (note for later: make my presentation).

It is fun to notice how long it can be to travel short distances. Hatfield, the famous city where Elizabeth the first spent her childhood and where Guy Ritchie was born is only few miles from London but it will take me the whole day to reach it. For some obscure reason, there is no direct line from Fiskebäckskil to Hatfield (I started at 5.00 AM to catch my first bus: Fieskebäckskil-Bokenås, followed by 3 other busses, 2 planes, the subway, the train and one more bus).

But maybe it is a good thing.

For example, walking between my house in the middle of the forest and the bus stop helped me solving a mystery: How my closest neighbor (1km from my house) was able to grow such beautiful vegetables in the forest. You have to know that the forest is full of “veg eating monsters” such as rabbits, deers and elks. At night, they hunt innocent vegetable and… eat them.

Antipesto… where are you?

However, the garden of my neighbor is always full of gorgeous and lively vegs.

Is he an inventor who found a way to brainwash the wildlife: “say no to carrot, cabbage and cauliflower”?

Actually, he is kind on an inventor but his solution is more… surreal.

I was walking the path in the forest. It was very dark; as dark as a forest can be in the middle of the night with a cloudy sky. It was very silent too with the exception of the sound of the crickets (the insect, not the game… I was not in England yet).

Then I heard the music.

Some light pop-rock.

Then I saw the light.

In the middle of my neighbor’s garden was a spot of white light and right in the middle of the light, a deer eating vegetables.

I was dragged into a David Lynch movie. I was more or less expecting a dwarf in red jacket riding the beast.

The moment was magic and bizarre at the same time.

I spent 10 minutes in the middle of nowhere watching this deer eating in the spotlight with some bad radio music as soundtrack.

Then it left, like an actor leaving the stage and the radio and the light turned off simultaneously leaving me alone in the dark. I was tempted to applause for the show.

Hummmm

I may have not solved the mystery of my neighbor’s garden after all.

Anyway, I will have some time to write some more about my last days in Greenland (and maybe a little about my stay in the UK). So, stay tuned!

Time to go to the “welcome mixer” party and find my conference buddy (I am not very optimistic… the “party” will last for an hour and I have a ticket for ONE free drink… will be difficult to find a new friend in these 1000 persons with such a low level of alcohol).

I was not scared when we ran out of gas on the boat (see a previous post) just annoyed.

I was also standing during the “shooting”. In both cases not because I was brave, because I did not realize that it could be dangerous.

PANG… wizzzzz… PANG… wizzzz

It was a familiar sound. You hear it all the time on TV. The “pang” of a riffle and the “wizzz” of the bullet ricochet on the rocks few meters from us.

I was with 4 other researchers looking for Inuit graves on a desolated land out of the village.

- I don’t like this at all.

We were under fire. The shooter was easily identified: a local practicing shooting.

He did not see us and continue shooting for a while; some of the bullets ending quite close to where we were standing. This is where the story ends. One of us ran to the guy to tell him that we were there and he stopped.

In Greenland, fire weapons are tools.

You are allowed to shoot when you turn 16 and each family own several riffles. It is not unusual to see people walking around with a rifle.

It is used for hunting, snow rabbit for example but also whale or seal. The technique to shoot a seal is quite interesting. When the hunter spots a pod of seals, it shoots at random, hurting and killing several ones, and brings back the one that does not sink.

It is also used to resolve conflict. As a consequence, the rate of murder is extremely high in small villages such as Qeqertarsuaq.

There are also loads of accidents. There is no clear regulation or place to practice shooting. So you can imagine what happen if you put a gun in the hands of a 16 years old kid with no clear idea of how far a bullet can go.

This is probably not mentioned in the Tourism advertisements.

When back in Ilulissat for my last day in Greenland, I ended is the same fantastic restaurant (see previous post on Mamartut). I had another whale Carpaccio and some very good Halibut). It was my chance to try a new “Greenlandic” tradition: the Greenlandic coffee, The famous taste from the top of the world, according to the kit you can buy in alcohol stores.

Of course, there is a nice story behind this drink recipe:

-          2cl of whisky, for the strength of single Greenlandic men

-          2 cl of kahlua, for the sweet and dark eyes of single Greenlandic girls

-          They meet in the darkness of the night (1 dl of black coffee)

-          Wiped cream for the icebergs

-          And if they are lucky, they will see the northern light (2 cl of burning cointreau)

Then… good luck.

when in Rome, do as the Romans do

Right.

 However, one can wonder how a mixture of coffee with an Irish whiskey, a Mexican liqueur and a French digestive can be the national drink of Greenland (easier to understand why Irish coffee is Irish, French coffee is French or Belgian coffee is Belgian).

When we asked about the origin of this “tradition” and when it started, we had no answer.

Anyway, after a couple of these, you do not bother about this, at all.

Oh no… it was… a tourist trap.

I was on the top of a mountain, watching the amazing Greenlandic landscapes.

Greenland is one of these destinations that change you. It is a trip to another world, a ride on the time travelling machine.

So I am not done with Greenland… or with this blog.

I didn’t had time to write a lot these last days but I have good excuses: I was looking for Inuit graves, getting shot, following local scientist in their quest for whale singing, getting drunk in the local pub and then sick on the boat, having a fantastic dinner, experiencing the Greenlandic coffee, overestimating my walking skills (20 kilometers in the mountains), flying back to Sweden and analyzing my results.

So much more to tell you and more pictures to show…

-This is the end…

or

- didn’t we agree, no more thoughtless killing?

- Quite right, my dear, so I thought this one out very carefully

This is my last day in Qeqertarsuaq. Tomorrow we are all taking the boat to Ilullisat where we will stay two nights before flying back home. It was an amazing experience but I am kind of happy to go back home, see the family. I know that a lot of work and everyday problems are waiting for me but it is nice to go back to the “normal” life.

I have spent the last 2 days killing a ridiculous amount of animals. It was quite disgusting (the sea urchin blood is not a nice thing to play with). We are now starting the cleaning/packing part of the stay. I just need to make few final observations tomorrow and then I will be done.

I will probably do the analysis on my way back home but I can already tell that this short stay was highly productive.

First, this place seems to be very special. There seawater has unique properties and I hope to have the opportunity to investigate that further in the future.

Secondly, animals seem to have some compensation mechanisms and seem quite OK in future ocean conditions. This may be a consequence of the variability of the environment they experience here. During winter time, the sea turns into ice and they probably have tom migrate and then experience very different environment than the one they experience during summer season.

Finally, the sea urchin larvae are growing fine and I am kind of sad to not be able to follow the all development (which will take several more months…)

Anyway, more details on this later.

Time to wash some clothes and drink some excellent Greenlandic beers.

Wake up at 7,30 -  Check mail – Grab a cup of coffee in the kitchen – Go to the lab – Check parameters and change the water of the crustacean experiment – Count the sea urchin larvae – Go to the harbor to ‘collect some seawater – Kill some sea stars – Dinner – Kill more seastar – Count the sea urchin larvae – Dinner – Kill some sea urchin – check mail – Write blog – Sleep

However, today I had 3 hours of free time between the sea star massive killing and the dinner.

The place is famous for whales. They live in the waters around, they are hunted and eaten (you can find bones everywhere).

And they are studied by some scientists at the Arctic station. We had a very informative talk by Outi, the scientific leader of Arctic station. She is studying the bowhead whale singing.

Did you know that there are two main reproductive strategies in whales? On one side, you have some species where one female copulate with multiple males. In this case, they do not sing and the whale have big testis (we are talking of 1 ton!). On the other hand, you have species where one male is copulating with several female. Then we have singing and it is hypothesize that the song is used in mating behavior. The bowhead whale is kind of an exception. They sing AND the males have big balls.

Anyway, I was told about “the nicest place to spot whales” and decided to take my chance.

One hour to go there, one hour on site (a nice little cabin on the top of the cliffs with a great view on the icebergs) and… no whales.

A little bit disappointed, I decided to go back to the station. I was about to leave, turned around, had a last quick look on the horizon and then… coming out of the blue… nothing!

I followed the coast on my way back, stopping on the small sand beaches… and then, on a rock… it was there!

(This is a perfect example of a (bad) joke in one language that does not translate into another. Whale in French is “baleine” and the small crustacean on the picture, the barnacle, is “balane”… baleine – balane = very bad joke… whale – barnacle = total nonsense).

Anyway, it was a nice walk… probably the last one on the island… the last days will be very busy with observations, experiment and packing.

Time to sleep – Wake up at 7,30 -  Check mail – Grab a cup of coffee in the kitchen – Go to the lab – Check parameters and change the water of the crustacean experiment – …

Sisyphus is back (again)

I can hear the nice motivating voice of the Sergeant Hartman when I am working in the lab.

I am rather quite on this blog these last days: less talk, more action!

The reason is that I am working much more.

Yesterday, I finished my day quite early and decided to go to a nice place for whale spotting. On my way, I stopped (like everyday) on the different areas where the sea urchin army was suppose to be few weeks ago. And… it was back; hundred of them, visible from the dock.

The water was still quite low but the low tide was a hour ago. I ran to the station to put my swimming suit, take my sampling kit and came back to the dock. Under the amused locals, I swam in the 9 degrees water of the Arctic and I have collected 35 of my beloved urchins. It was even worse today. For the first time of my stay, it is raining. However, I had to make my last animal collection: 40 urchins and 40 sea stars in 1h30 and under heavy rain.

What you have to do in the name of science…

Thanks to this, I have started a lot of experiments and I am now very busy collecting data.

All the experiments are made in a big container where I try to find some space to story my tanks.

I am testing the impact of near future condition in the ocean (a more acidic water) on different parameters on the sea stars and sea urchins: How does acidity affect their blood and immune system, the fertilization of the eggs by the sperm and the development of their larvae.

As a consequence, I am doing horrible things…

I am draining their blood, cutting them in piece, kill their babies. Karma police… arrest this man…

A friend predicted that I will end in slug hell… the place where it rains seawater.

Or maybe, my job in the next life will be the Willy Wonka of Qeqertarsuaq? There is a place on the island that is called “the chocolate factory”. You have to know that most of the toilets here are dry, meaning that you are pooping in a nice yellow bag. Then you send it to Willy Wonka. This guy had a fantastic job. Jesus was walking on water and changing it in wine (there is no record of walking on wine). The local Willy Wonka is changing seawater into chocolate. His job is to open the yellow bag and release its content into the sea (sorry, no picture for that one…)

Anyway, the very first results are promising but I should keep that for later!

Stay tuned!