Aaryana, my eight year old daughter is yet to find her cycling balance. Yes, I am acutely aware of how late she is—especially when I see four-year old Dutch kids riding like pros. But then, I see myself in her.

The Halfords guy refused to sell me a carrier seat mount, because he thought her 25kilos weight was over the 22kg capacity of my bicycle carrier. So we had a problem. My wife’s bike is already mounted with another seat for my younger four year old daughter. Leaving kids home would rob all the fun. In any case, we wouldn’t do it.

On inspection, the carrier’s welded joints look strong. Plus, my bike has two 6mm solid steel rods as primary steel—going to the axle of my rear wheel, with about 6inches of unbraced length—for resisting axial compression. For a 25kg, that’s roughly about 9MPa—four times less than 36MPa (0.15Fy, assuming mild-steel). You needn’t do the math of course. In India, I have seen enough adult pillion riders on carriers slender than mine.

With weight restriction out of the way, Aaryana could now ride on the carrier. Still, there were two problems. One, it’s uncomfortable, and two, there’s no foot-rest. I solved the first problem with a fleece blanket securely laid over the carrier, whose surface now feels like a cushy pillow.

Problem number two remains unsolved. I am trying to get some kind of foot-rest for Aaryana. For now, she’s resting her tiny feet on the large closed axle bolts. While she doesn’t complain, I know it’s not a comfortable position, particularly on long rides. On bumpy roads, she slips her footing. But that is not stopping us enjoying country rides—at least not yet.

I didn’t find anything for the foot-rest in cycle stores in my area—probably because what we are doing here is unusual; I haven’t seen anyone older than 4 years riding pillion. If you have suggestions¹—something I could buy a pair off the shelf, then please do share.

1. The other (expensive) option, common around here, is to get a tandem attachment.

It was a decent sized branch we had jumped over. I hadn’t seen it coming. I spotted a park lane in the distance and pulled over. We still had 350km to cover on our way back from Heidelberg. Our Civic is equipped with these funny tubeless tyres; spare wheel not included. We checked for signs of damage; there were none. Sneha and I sat with our heads down—until our heavy breathing subsided, our nerves no more hyper, and our heart rates back to normal.

Sneha and I remember yet another road incident from the past—our visit to Cherating. A couple of things didn’t go well on that trip. The stingray incident was one. This following is the other.

We were driving back home, and it started raining heavy. On one of the troughs on the highway, I was trying to overtake a truck—in poor visibility, in spite of wipers functioning at maxed-out speed. On one side was the concrete wall, the truck I was overtaking was on the other.

The truck began lurching towards us, and I was half way through its length. That was when we entered the trough, only to be hit by a ton of displaced water—completely blinding us. Because of the speed of both vehicles traversing through a mass of water, the water stayed in the air for a few moments in what seemed like an eternity, and knocking the living daylights out of us. That was a close call.

Now we know what it feels like—to be stuck between a rock and a hard place.

It totally sucks having one-off standalone installations of software. Why? Because when some *ucker finds a security hole in the version you compiled yourself, it’ll be up to you to recompile and reconfigure your software. Yourself. Oh, and the *ucker won’t tell you that you need to do it.

If you still can’t resist the urge for that one application, and you cannot find it in the Synaptic Package Manager, then here’s how—assuming there are no dependencies¹:

1. $ tar xzvf musthaveapp-x.x.x.tar.gz
2. $ cd musthaveapp-x.x.x
3. $ make
4. # make install
5.  
6. Download this example: /inputfiles/compile-source.txt

(The above is in the following order: Unzip→Go to source directory→Compile.)

Be forewarned though that the software you compile will not be updated automatically (not even with security updates) via Ubuntu's software updates notification because you compiled this yourself, silly.²

A gentle note to users

If you love an open source application that is not included in the repositories, lobby for its inclusion³—send a kind note and some money (if they accept donations) to the developers, ask them to get their apps included in the repositories.

A gentle note to developers

If you’re a developer of an open source software, and would love to see people use it, then please do get your app included in the repositories—in case you haven’t done yet.

1. Check the documentation for the app; if it says you’ll need such and such a pack, try installing it via the Synaptic Package Manager or via sudo apt-get install packname.
2. This post is a reminder to resist the thought, whenever I get the urge to download and compile.
3. An inclusion would mean it’s safer, well tested, integrated well with the OS, and updates guaranteed.

The road to Engelberg—plush with panoramic vistas of the Swiss countryside—has the ability to lift gloomiest of moods. One look outside, and your spirits begin to break-dance. And if you’re lucky, sunshine over snow looks like it has been photo-morphed for your viewing pleasure. I can now better relate to what they perhaps mean when they say it’s indescribable.

We arrived at the foothills of Mt. Titlis around noon.¹ The view of snow-capped mountains around Engelberg is magnificent.

Although incidences like these are rare, Engelbergers don’t forget to mention their tryst with nature—about how the village was once covered by a series of avalanches, thus blocking all access week long to this traditional alpine place. Apparently, the Swiss air rescue was mobilized to help stranded people, get food and medicine into the village for those who couldn’t be air-lifted.

With vertical limits of over 10000 feet, Titlis is one of the few mountain peaks that promise powdery snow all year round, and inviting skiers and snow-boarders from everywhere. You can pick-up whatever you need at the Engelberg base station ski-shop—in case you forgot your gear, and brace yourself for a slide-down those snowy slopes.

We began our ascent at half-past noon. The journey to the mountain top is in three stages—the last of which is quite unique. The Rotair cable car rotates a whole 360° during ascent—providing a breathless view of the glacier.

Apart from virgin views from the top, Titlis offers a few activities for non-skiers too—most notable is the ice flyer. Get on one of those, and you can hear your heart beating like a Djembe drum.

Titlis is unlike anything we have experienced before, and is sure to leave a permalink in our memories. We hope to return in the future—better equipped and better trained.

Titlis Base station at Engelberg: CH-6390 Engelberg, CH.

1. On April 1, 2008.

1. chetan@ckunte:~$ history|awk '{a[$2]++ } END{for(i in a){print a[i] " " i}}' |sort -rn|head
2. 80 ls
3. 71 cd
4. 61 sudo
5. 49 exit
6. 39 pwd
7. 30 ssh
8. 18 sftp
9. 13 svn
10. 13 fdisk
11. 12 rsync
12.  
13. Download this example: /inputfiles/bash-history.txt

Update: I suppose some explanatory notes for this otherwise meaningless gibberish (above) would help make sense of it all. CLI—the powerful command line interface (love it or hate it, but you can never ignore its simplicity and power)—is the reason I joined this otherwise mad meme.

I have been fortunate to have existed and experienced phases of computing interface from CLI to GUI. Most kids today aren’t so fortunate (or unfortunate—whichever way you look at it); they start with the Start button tucked on the bottom left corner of their screens every day of their lives.¹

Unlike a GUI, CLI is old school, outdated, requires imagination, number of users—using it—shrinks everyday, but nevertheless in the hands of those who still use it, it is magic.

I had all but stopped using CLI, since the time John Brown phased out those HP Apollo 9000s running BSD in 1999-2000, in favor of personal computers. I have been refreshing those fond memories ever since I switched to Ubuntu. Today, I have no GUI software for rsync, ssh, svn, and sftp; rather I don’t need a GUI version for these.

The days of CLI as the primary interface are long gone; and in my opinion, it’s best this way. That said, CLI is still very much complementary to any modern OS; and in my opinion, it should never be phased out. It relates to productivity as much as it signifies nostalgia, if not more.

1. Though it might be a little more obvious to users of operating systems that are Unix-like—Linux, OS X, for example.

I have been using Linux live CDs in the past, but until I took the plunge to install it on my computer’s hard drive, I was really skeptical about everything Ubuntu had to offer. Now, I wish all computers I use were running Ubuntu.

There’s also an element of idealism: Ubuntu is open source. It uses open formats. It has excellent package and dependency management. It only adds restricted drivers upon request; otherwise, it keeps your computer a virgin. I feel good about it.

I can run a web-server locally on my Ubuntu box without doing anything out of the box. Terminal gives me the power of GNU tools—comparable to OSX’s. Gnome’s interface is modern, accessible, and simple. As a former Windows user, I am at ease with keyboard shortcuts. It comes loaded natively with a complete Office suite (Open Office)—not to mention availability of thousands of applications, all for free. It makes installing and uninstalling applications a child’s play. I don’t need to have a window focus to execute a shortcut on another running application; like for instance, I could be using the web while changing a track on Amarok without bringing it in focus. I have never had an OS this good.

With Vista’s native problems, and Mac OSX’s indifference to third-party application developers—thereby sidelining users’ freedom to choose, Ubuntu hit home. Vista introduced problems that XP users never faced. When I see Firefox under-developed on OSX, I can only understand why. Apple has a browser preference, and it will only see Safari enjoy all the hidden benefits of OSX, even if it is un-pluggable. Lack of security related extensions like No-script is not an option in today’s world, where scripts and cookies are learning to become intelligent. I wonder if examples like these are turning third-party developers away from OSX, and towards Linux.¹

Much of office automation is going the intranet way, thus taking away OS dependency in business, financial and commercial units. What I don’t see yet is the professional and scientific (commercial) software going mainstream Linux in large numbers. But that could well change—considering much of these were running on Unix a decade or so ago. Abaqus, for instance, is a fine example; SESAM has been on Unix for much its lifetime—they were forced to move to Windows because users were phasing out their Unix workstations. USFOS was developed for Unix, but was later ported to Windows for similar reasons. PDMS used to run on SGI’s Irix until the beginning of this decade. They could well roll back. Bentley’s Microstation was compatible with Linux until 1995. BOCAD has a Linux version. Matlab has a Linux version—just to cite some examples of the type of software I use, in particular, in my everyday job.

When the demand changes from push to shove, I don’t think it is difficult for business and scientific applications to return home. It would be only a matter of time.

On a side note, you might want to read about my return to Linux desktop I wrote a few months ago. There’s also a nice plug by Mark Shuttleworth commending WUBI developers on making the transition to Ubuntu—for Windows users—even easier in the upcoming version Ubuntu 8.04 Hardy Heron.

1. You can develop commercial applications for Linux and its variants, and developers will not have to worry about hidden features to exploit—because linux is open source, a level playing field for every developer.

When you’re about to visit eco-friendly regions like the Black Forest in your not so eco-friendly transport, you might experience an unconscious sense of guilt—however remote that sounds. In our case thankfully, the new German regulation helped. Our car got classified as low emission—Group 4, and Dekra promptly issued us a green sticker.

Weather was the other concern. The ten-day forecast on MSN was anything but encouraging. Snow, this Spring, was putting me off so much that I kept pestering my colleagues about whether it was worth investing in winter-tyres. Regulation helped here too: Winter tyres are strongly recommended between November and March—but not mandatory.¹

Spring is an odd season to visit the Black Forest. You have a fifty percent chance of a good weather, with a good measure of unpredictability. On the plus side however, you don’t see tourists thronging the streets.² 30th March, however, was our day; and to our delight, it was a twilight of Sun and snow—with snow cleared hill roads, while the hills and valleys donned their shining bright white coats.

Home to the world’s largest Cuckoo clock, Schonach is a tiny town about 50km north-west of Freiburg. It’s hard not to let a sigh out wherever you look. Every frame appears picture perfect. Campers, bikers, kids, young and old remind you that you haven’t actually died and gone to heaven, but that it’s a place on earth.

The clock and its associated wooden gear wheels occupy an entire 15′ house. The wooden cuckoo peeks out of the large window whenever the clock strikes an hour. The associated pump mechanism makes the swoosh sound like a cuckoo—something that kids couldn’t have enough of. The owner was kind enough to let our kids—Aaryana and Saanvi—have a go at pulling those tugs to hear the cuckoo over and over.

Triberg is an adjoint town tracing the origins of Danube. Full of mountain bike and hiking trails, it also has a decent shopping street—selling the popular and skilled wooden craft that this region is well known for. Watching skilled craftsmen go about chiseling cuckoo-clock frames, and biblical characters of out of butter-like wood makes you go hmmm with awe.³

The day rolled over as if we’d hardly spent it wisely; but then good things last only for a few moments. It’s what you savour in those moments that counts, I guess.

Cuckoo clock: Untertalstr. 28 78136 Schonach im Schwarzwald, DE.

Triberg Waterfalls: Hauptstraße 57, 78098 Triberg, DE.

1. That said, if you’re involved in an accident, and you’re not riding on those special tyres, you could become an easy goat.
2. July and August are such times, we hear.
3. Planning to buy a clock? Then, buy one here. The prices may seem exorbitant, but believe us, they’re twice over everywhere else.

On our second night there during our stereotypical tourist-y stroll, we chanced upon an old Belgian couple drive into Kaiser Joseph Straße. They were lost, and were looking for directions to Colmar in France! Yes, that’s how close Freiburg is to France, and to Switzerland.

The couple asked for our help. It was about 9pm—and the street was but deserted. When we saw that they were using a road map—apparently from ANWB—we were not surprised. It’s not that ANWB’s maps aren’t good—in fact, they’re excellent, but that navigation using maps in the night is obviously difficult. What did surprise us though was that they had a Tomtom, but didn’t know how to use it! Anyhow, its presence helped us help them better—I mention this because they didn’t understand a word of English. But I digress.

Freiburg exudes a certain quiet charm—like the mosaic decorated cobblestone pavements; the medieval architecture, traditional buildings with modern signboards, street names labeled in German Gothic fonts; Bächle¹—that it is hard not to fall in love with this city.

The area near the main station bustles with activity: lots of bicycles on streets, folks and tourists enjoying their coffee out on the cobblestone streets; kids trying stunts with their BMX bikes in front of Konzerthaus; Randstad trams taking people to and from the city center; college kids queuing in front of the multiplex, et al.

When we were planning our trip to the Black Forest region, Freiburg was a mere “stopover, rest, and continue point” on our radar. Now, I would beg to differ. This is a must visit place. It might even make you want to live there, forever.

Address for your GPS navigator: Konrad-Adenauer-Platz 1, 79098 Freiburg im Breisgau, Baden-Württemberg, DE.

1. Not to be mistaken for wastewater gutters; in the ancient times, apparently, it was used for water supply and firefighting.

Now I have a local web server running on my Ubuntu powered desktop—complete with a local version of my site, and proudly powered by WordPress.

Update: You’ll need to set /var/www folder writable by server: sudo chmod -R 755 www.

Credits: Much of the LAMP installation part was referred from this simple and excellent Howto Forge article. I’ve skipped tasks that are now automated; and added those that weren’t covered in the referred article.

1. Here, username is your login name on the computer; typically username@computer that you see when you open a Terminal window.