As far as the stereotype about urban gay men approaching their forties goes, Viktor Horsting and Rolf Snoeren do not deceive while adding a pinch of seriousness to their worldly concerns by means of glasses with thick black frames.

I have never been a fashionista myself, and will probably not become one. The thought of spending any significant amount of my time hunting new designs and attending the mass leaves me totally unphased. Yet, a one hour excursion on the third floor of the Barbican Arts Centre in London proved to be both a refreshing and enlightening experience.

A friend, dear among the dearest, brought me to a fashion exhibition in the City of London. He intended this experiment both as an initiation and as a test for my taste — I would hear “I wonder if you will like it” at least thrice before we eventually squeezed the last hours of our trip together in the Barbican Centre.

The key works of Dutch fashion designers Viktor and Rolf were on display in a two-floor exhibition hall. Visitors are there invited to follow a sequence of rooms around a central doll house, where each of the hall's rooms would match a room in the doll house and contain a couple models and a projection screen.

Describing the collection and its qualities would far exceed my vocabulary skills, so I will not dwelve into details here. However, the purpose of this note today is to stay as a reminder of how touched I was by the amount of creative work and creative diversity that was concentrated in these fifty-something models. Unexpected in a fashion exhibit, I felt more respect and admiration for these tailors than I have for many painters in art musea.

Add this to the brutal style of the estate of which the Barbican Centre is part, its stained grey ragged concrete walls and columns contrasting with the lush and lively yet constrained small lake that it contains, and you get a picture of a foreign urban world of sorts — obscurely pure and devoid of irregularities, where nature is enclosed, and where the only form of art is worn somptuously as unique and breathtaking clothes.

I discovered a world of dreams, made for and by them. London is a city of many surprises.

One of my favorites pastimes when procrastinating: looking up unusual ways to travel by train. Using the journey planner with the largest database that I know of, I set myself imaginary goals and I search:

• the longest journey that can be achieved within a day: Marseille-Malmö
• the longest journey in a single night train: Hamburg-Villach, Paris-Barcelona, Amsterdam-Milano
• the longest journey that can be achieved at high speed within a day: Marseille-Berlin via Brussels and Köln
• the longest journey that can be achieved without changing trains: Amsterdam-Moscow
• the longest journey with only one change: Amsterdam-Beijing via Moscow

The following quote summarizes roughly a number of ideas I have a lot of troubles explaining. However, I feel that many people emigrate for the wrong reasons, one of them being simply unsatisfied with living in the previous place. Here it goes:

[…] Emigration is no small business. In addition to a serious commitment to somehow integrate into the new place as a citizen, emigration involves also commitment to stay, integrate culturally and contribute to the society. I have made my own commitments in this respect - I am actively learning the language; I enjoy paying the due taxes; I have a traditional housing […]; and so on. If you were to emigrate, what are your plans?
[…] When I was considering emigrating, what was most important to me was how I would feel when I would arrive to the "right" place. This had to be considered independently from my feelings as a French citizen, and more by understanding the position of the various candidates relatively to their geographical neighborhood. […] My way of making my choice was to take a map of the world and imagining myself living in various areas. Primary concern was filtering out those places I would not feel secure in. Either because I am not protected by family (financially or otherwise), because I'm gay, because I often use my right to say what I think (is bad) about things, or because I have no religion. Next concern was filtering out those places I would be considered as a stranger for the rest of my life, whatever I would do, such as because of the color of my skin or the language difference. Then I tried to match my personality with the cultural expectations, such as avoiding warm-blooded countries where lots of talking are required to get things done (in business or private life), or liberal countries where your social value as an individual is proportional to the amount of money you're worth.
Using only these ideas, not much was left standing on my world map. Most world countries, and several European countries such as Poland, Greece, or Italy were ruled out by the first criterion. France, the UK and most other "western" countries were ruled out by the last criterion. Nearly all the rest of the world got ruled out by the middle criterion. I ended up with the Netherlands mainly because Canada is a bit too close to the USA, because I do not speak German (and German-speaking countries are not very English speaking), and because I think it's a bit early (for me) to go to Scandinavia or other other northern parts of Europe - life there is easy, but it is tremendously difficult to start friendships with people and I am still very shy. And note that the Netherlands does not quite match my last criterion (very liberal, very capitalistic) so it was a match only because I had a kind of fondness for the place, fondness that grew during some trips in the past years.

Hope this helps.

Quote from ArticlesBase :

Bucket-wheel excavators are heavy equipment used in surface mining and civil engineering. The excavation component itself is a large rotating wheel mounted on an arm or boom. On the outer edge of the wheel is a series of scoops or buckets. As the wheel turns, the buckets remove soil or rock from the target area and carry it around to the backside of the wheel, where it falls onto a conveyor, which carries it up the arm toward the main body of the excavator. Additional conveyors then may carry it further; in some cases, several long conveyors are placed end-to-end, each supported by a large vehicular base.
Especially large bucket-wheel excavators, over 200 meters long and up to 100 meters in height, are used in German strip-mining operations, and are the largest earth-movers in the world. These tremendous machines can cost over $100 million, take 5 years to assemble, require 5 people to operate, weigh more than 13,000 tons, and have a theoretical capacity of more than 12,000m³/h. Specifically, the RB293 bucket wheel excavator manufactured by MAN Takraf is recognized by Guinness World Records as the largest land vehicle.

The Bagger 288 is built by another manufacturer (Krupp) and is nearly as large as the RB293. About the Bagger 288:

Over three weeks it made a 22 kilometer (14 mile) trip to the Garzweiler mine, traveling across Autobahn 61, the Erft, a railroad line, and several roads. The move cost nearly 15 million German marks and required a team of seventy workers. Rivers were crossed by placing large steel pipes for the water to flow through and providing a smooth surface over the pipes with rocks and gravel. Moving Bagger 288 in one piece was more economic than disassembling the excavator and moving it piece by piece.

See for yourself:

Look at the tiny dashes at the bottom right of the picture. These are people. The thing is huge!

There are plenty of them:

I had a bucket wheel excavator in my head since I was 10 or so. I discovered the name of the thing only today. What a relief!

At 6 this morning I woke up panting and sweating from a terrifying nightmare.

It all started with a quite long dream with an intricate story. The dream was about me being on a road trip to reconnect with old friends, and I was on my way back with the updated knowledge that my friends' families were not doing well, and that I should start taking care of my own family to avoid the bleak future my friends are facing.

Not a meaningless dream, but not a nightmare either.

The creepy side of the story started when I arrived at a place were my mother, brother and I were to take tea with an old friend of my mother. The place was this friend's house, on the seaside, with a veranda just above sea level.

While the other people were merrily chatting on the sofa, I approached the window to look outside. Then it struck me that the veranda was flooded where I expected to see dry planks. When I realized that the water level was steadily rising and the house was tilting on the side towards the water, I shouted “everyone outside, now!” and jumped out of the window into the water.

As dreams allow, I was then seeing myself and the landscape from a different perspective. The house I was in was at the top of a dyke which was slowly crumbling. My brother was already out swimming but my mother was painfully trying to push herself out of the window while the water was pouring inside.

The current was intense. Water was flowing freely into the valley behind the dyke. My mum started crying that she was not strong enough to swim. My brother and I swam to her side and held her by her arms, trying to accompany the flow towards the valley.

Then my perspective changed to show me how the landscape was slowly and strongly replaced by the flood. I could see people trying to get out of houses from the windows in the roof, imagining the fate of those people in houses already below water level.

Somehow my family and I managed to land on a dry piece of land. We were in a part of an urban area above water level, but I had no idea of the precise location.

At that point I started to decide that I had enough and that it was time to wake up. But before it happened, I could dream my mother complaining how she needed some medication and food and me having no idea of how to get that in a flooded city.

Waking up was painful : I did not sleep enough and the nightmare left me shocked. I fixed myself a glass of water and a piece of bread, and I tried to sleep again while brooding over how relationships between civilians in a flooded country would be affected by such a precarious situation.