September 7, 2010
Normally I don’t bother with umbrellas
A guest post by cosmologist Andrew Pontzen, on his experience with us at the Green Man festival in Wales.
I’d like to begin by thanking a cafe in Cambridge.
It lends, free of charge, umbrellas to its patrons. Not just any umbrellas: these are the kind of ten-feet-wide uber-umbrellas that you don’t want to be stuck walking behind.
Now, it’s true that umbrellas are more-or-less all the cafe has going for it. In fact, I’m not about to take back the umbrella, mainly because I can’t face going back to the cafe. But nonetheless, that cafe made a crucial contribution to my enjoyment of this year’s Green Man Festival in Wales. I just wanted to acknowledge that up-front.
Normally I don’t bother with umbrellas. Unwieldy. A simple coat will do.
But when Wales has rain, it seems, it’s not just any rain: it’s the kind of rain that drenches you in less than a minute. It’s the kind of rain that a raincoat just can’t protect against. It’s the kind of rain, in short, that only a ten-foot uber-umbrella can combat.
And now I have such an umbrella in my car, waiting for the post-apocalyptic day when I’ll revisit ‘cafe underwhelming’ for the last remaining undercooked baked potato in existence. (I will return the umbrella then.)
Talking about science to small groups at a music festival sounds crazy until you consider the possibility of talking to small groups about science at a music festival in the pouring rain, while using an iPad to show pictures and an iPod to play Lewis Dartnell’s ‘Sounds of the Universe’. While walking through the mud next to Mia (in a spacesuit painted in water-soluble shiny paint). After delivering an introductory talk in a yurt tent powered by people pedalling on static bicycles.
I am amazed, amazed, that people put up with it. In fact, they didn’t just put up with it: they were enthusiastic; they wanted to know more; they wanted to discuss the geometry of spacetime; they even wanted to hold my umbrella. Not to steal it, you understand, just to hold it while I fumbled around looking for another picture on my iPad.
So I can honestly say the Green Man Festival was as much of a learning experience for me as for those brave souls who tried to listen.
Mind you: having struggled through 36 hours of pouring rain, we were treated to an appearance of the Sun. Then it turns out that iPad screens are so insanely shiny that no-one can see a thing on them. It’s the first time I’ve been upstaged by anyone (in this case, Lewis Dartnell) bringing a stack of paper with images printed on it. “This might work better”, he said.
But when it started to rain again, he didn’t have an umbrella. I did.
By Andrew Pontzen, a cosmologist who has finally dried out.
August 26, 2010
Green Man: In Photos
Check out our flickr site for all the pics from this weekend at Green Man, including Jelly Brain Dissections with Guy Billings
the Flavour Feast
August 19, 2010
Green Man Festival, August 20-22
The sublime Brecon Beacons beckon. Catch us August 20 to 22 in Einstein’s Garden.
Sounds of the Universe: Lewis Dartnell & Andrew Pontzen
Walks: Friday 1330 & 1630, Saturday 1100, 1400 & 1715, Sunday 1300 & 1545
Talks: Friday 1630 w/ Andrew & Sat 1330 w/ Lewis, Yurt Stage
Hear the the bassy reverberations of the surface of our Sun, the eerie shrieks of Jupiter, and feverish radio pulses from the cores of dead stars. Plus a talk on astrobiology with Lewis on Saturday.
The Synaesthesia Game: Guerilla Science & Coney
Saturday 1215 and Sunday 1345, Yurt Stage
The Professor has made a brain – but it has synaesthesia: it hears sounds when it sees colours. Come see what it thinks you sound like to look at. Unlike anything you’ve seen – or heard – before.
Flavour Feast: Becki Clarke & Rachel Edwards Stuart
Friday 1530, Saturday 1630, Sunday 1745, Workshop Tent
Celebrate the manifold facets of flavour with our sensory smorgasbord. Sample from our menu of taste tests with expert food scientists and explore the tantalizing mysteries of your senses.
Jelly Brain Dissections: Guy Billings
Friday 1530, Saturday 1630, Sunday 1745, Workshop Tent
Come for a cuppa and a slice of delicious jelly, set in the shape of your marvellous cerebrum. We will dissect, discuss and digest the most complex thing in the known universe: your mind.
Liars Picnic: Lynsey Gozna & Rachel Taylor
Friday 1900 & Sunday 1445, Yurt Stage
How good are you at spotting a lie? Forensic psychologists will teach you to spot the telltale signs. Then put your newfound shifty skills to the test in a lying match. Prizes for the finest fibbers. Cheating is compulsory – no exceptions.
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