Tall

"Architecture is not all about the design of the building and nothing else, it is also about the cultural setting and the ambience, the whole affair."

- Michael Graves

“We shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.”

-Winston Churchill

"Don't clap too hard - it's a very old building."

-John Osborne



In the space of 48 hours, I visited two of the worlds' greatest human-made structures. They were extremely different in just about every aspect - design, material, location, purpose, history. Yet, both are beautiful, inspiring, enchanting, mysterious and famous. Both are in interesting parts of the world and both are written in the history books many times over.

The Burj Khalifa




From the 126th floor

It was with much fanfare that, when it opened earlier this year on the 4th January, the world's tallest building became known as the Burj Khalifa. Named after Sheikh Khalifa, ruler of the UAE, the Burj stands at a world record 828 metres tall (2717ft). The world watched as this marvel of modern technology and engineering was officially declared open for business.

Comparisons to other tall buildings

It holds the following records:

Tallest structure ever built: 828 m (2,717 ft) (previously Warsaw radio mast – 646.38 m/2,121 ft)

Tallest freestanding structure: 828 m (2,717 ft) (previously CN Tower – 553.3 m/1,815 ft)

Building with most floors: 160 (previously Willis Tower – 108)

Building with highest occupied floor in the world: 160th floor.

World's highest elevator installation, situated inside a rod at the very top of the building.

World's fastest elevators at speed of 64 km/h (40 mph) or 18 m/s (59 ft/s) (previously Taipei 101 – 16.83 m/s)

Highest vertical concrete pumping (for a building): 606 m (1,988 ft, previously Taipei 101 – 449.2 m/1,474 ft)

The first world's tallest structure in history to include residential space.

Highest outdoor observation deck in the world (124th floor) at 452 m (1,483 ft)

World's highest mosque (located on the 158th floor)

World's highest installation of an aluminium and glass façade, at a height of 512 m (1,680 ft)

World's highest swimming pool (76th floor)

World's highest nightclub (144th floor).

The Address Hotel opposite the Burj, is a huge structure in its own right. 'Lego' houses surround it.

It was with great anticipation then that I finally got an opportunity to visit the highest part open to the public - the 126th floor. The elevator moved skyward at 10 metres per second - and the ears popped all the way up. Upon stepping out, the outside balcony beckoned a look. Over the side was a small city that looked like lego pieces. The huge shopping mall directly next to the Burj was a small box. The large hotel opposite was a small building that seemed tiny compared to how I viewed it at ground level. I have seen documentaries about how they built the Burj - the concrete being pumped, the thousands of labourers who worked around the clock, the stages of construction, the heat endured to complete the seemingly impossible. Yet here it stands. And stands out. There are many tall buildings here in Dubai, but they all look insignificant compared to the Burj. Indeed, most of the buildings around the world would look ordinary....

If the Burj Khalifa were in Adelaide.....

A day later it was on to Athens, Greece, the site of one of the world's most important historical structures and one of humanity's greatest architectural achievements - the Parthenon. This was my second visit, but it is one of those places that is always awesomely breath-taking. It inspires deep thought and reflection - how did they build it 2500 years ago? How is it still (partly) standing after all this time. It has survived the Persian invasion and numerous upheavals since. It has survived the Nazis. It has survived decay and misuse. It has survived the weather and all the elements that nature has thrown its way. And it still stands.




The Parthenon - still standing


I find it hard to believe that something so important and significant has been allowed, over 2000 years, to be so weathered and beaten up. It is seemingly only now, in recent times, that care is taken to begin restoration. Indeed, much of the original building (what's left) has been replaced by replica parts, with the original pieces being placed in museums. I just wonder what people during the previous centuries were thinking. If more care had been taken then, surely less damage would have occurred.

As beaten up as it is, The Parthenon is still an amazing piece of history. It's one of those sights that you simply can't stop taking photos of. As I stood there marvelling and wondering, my mind began thinking of ancient times and what life was like back when it was a new building. This part of history is well documented, but to actually experience being there - I need a time machine!

Both buildinigs are icons. Both are places you can sit for hours and do nothing but look. I've spent many hours at both, in absolute awe. But somehow I keep going back to the Parthenon as my favourite of the two. Maybe I have become too spoilt by seeing the Burj every day from my bedroom window, or simply walking past it each time I go to the mall. Maybe those who live in Athens feel the same about the Parthenon, and that it's just another building. I wonder whether the Burj will stand for 2500 years and if so, will it have the same incredible stories to tell in the year 4500.

Turbulent

"Airline travel is hours of boredom interrupted by moments of stark terror."
-Al Boliska

"Why don't they make the whole plane out of that black box stuff?"
-Steven Wright

"The strength of the turbulence is directly proportional to the temperature of your coffee."
From 'Gunter's Second Law of Air Travel' 

Dubai Airport - or a scene from Star Wars?

I am in the fortunate position of being able to travel. Often. It's something I have always wanted to do for as long as I can remember. Sitting in my primary school classroom flicking through atlases, I would be trying to remember the shape of the countries and continents, memorizing cities and looking at statistics like populations and all the time comparing them to what small part of the planet I was familiar with. Yep - I knew how to have a good time.

I have always been fascinated with the United Kingdom ever since my grade two teacher visited for her Christmas holidays and came back the following year to show her class the 'slides'. She set up our classroom just like a plane, complete with the aisle down the middle and cramped economy-class seating either side of it. As the slides flicked around their carousel she gave a running commentary, all the while serving her second grade passengers with light refreshments of orange juice and candy. Similarly when she visited Japan we were all given an insight into her enviable world of travelling the globe. It seemed teaching would be a fun occupation that would also allow for travel during the holidays.....

A Piazza in Florence, Statue of David in background

I have always been interested in watching people who travel 'on business'. You see these people at the airport, sitting there in their expensive suits busying themselves on their laptops or checking their briefcases. I wonder where they are going and what they are doing. I'm just back from a 'business' trip myself, having attended a conference in Florence, Italy. It was awesome trip and a wonderful time was had. But. But the whole traveling thing might be wearing a bit thin. It's not the destinations, or the discovering, or the learning, or the food, wine, people, sights, sounds, smells or secret side streets to be discovered that are the issue here. I don't think I'll ever tire of doing what I do. It's simply the getting there and the getting back that are grating. I'm just about over it.
Entering the airport en route to wherever, is just like walking through another dimension into Bizzaro World. How can seemingly normal, polite, and (for the most part) considerate people all of sudden morph into rude, arrogant, pushy, smelly, inconsiderate inbreds who have no manners nor concept of personal space? All of this is encountered before a single bag is even checked in. Then the fun really starts. If there's a slow line, I'm on the end of it. If there's a rude customs official, they'll find me. If they stop the belt on the x-ray machine, it's my bag that's in there and if there's a machine that beeps incessantly, I'll walk through it. Actually, that last honor goes to Michelle. I'm the one who gets to wait for her to be searched. Almost always more than once. It's honestly difficult to describe the intensity of my disdain for airports.

So much fun and I'm not even close to getting on the plane. The coughers, the sneezers, the screamers, the guy who puts his chair back while we're still in take-off mode, the hard seat, the broken tv screen and the snorer - are all sitting, conveniently, where i'm sitting. Amazing. Yet, despite all of this. Despite my ill-feelings toward airports and general discomfort once i'm airborne, I consider myself extremely blessed. How, one might ask? Considering the gigantic bitch session above regarding all things to do with air travel? It's simple. Read on.

I scarcely remember a flight I've been on, no matter the level of discomfort, where I haven't uttered the words - "It doesn't matter, as long as we get there safely". Strangely, the more I fly, the more uncomfortable I have become with the whole notion of being airborne. Generally, once the journey begins I find that I don't really think about the fact I'm sitting in a chair 10 kilometres above the ground. This all changes however at the slightest bump or hint of turbulence.
Enter Flight 186 from Florence to Paris last week. A smallish plane seating around 100 passengers, it is always going to be more susceptible to a bit of rough and tumble after take off. The captain noted that things could get a 'little bumpy' as we climbed through the cloud layers. Bumpy? The turbulence I was about to experience was to 'a little bumpy', as a barrel of oil is to 'a little greasy'. We didn't so much pass through the clouds as we were 'flung'. Sideways mostly. The cramp in my hand resulted from the 'this is it - it's all over' grip I had on my seatbelt. I could actually feel my sweaty, clammy face turning a ghostly white colour as I may have (definitely did) let out a few expletives. I think I can be pardoned. See circumstances above. Upon leaving the plane the source of my discomfot became painfully obvious. Gusty, ice-cold Parisian winds, cloudy rain-filled skies and an afternoon temperature of just 6 degrees. Enough said. Even when disembarking from the smoothest flight, I need to fight the urge to be Pope-like. Kissing the ground in equal amounts of sheer joy and relief seems like a natural thing to do. I was in love with the ground on this day.

Pontevecchio Bridge, Florence

The heart slows to almost normal again. I can relax. Bask in the glory that another flight has ended successfully. But then all too soon it's the cheerful, positive, welcoming, 'happy-to-be-alive' customs officials to meet and greet you. Followed by the dreaded luggage carousel. Guess when my bags usually appear? Yep, that's right. Then to rub salt into my air travel wounds, a few weeks ago I literally walked into an all-time low moment. I inadvertently went through the 'Goods To Declare' exit, where I was immediately summoned by the guards to empty my bags and explain myself. Nice.

I write this half thinking that the world is against me. Everyone else out there is sitting and waiting for me to appear so they can set up some kind of 'Truman Show' the moment I appear at the airport. Somebody screams 'Places people - he's coming!'. The cast set out to get in my way. The make-up department go to all kinds of lengths to get the realism just right - although they could probably tone down the body odour just a tad. The fact is, that all this is slightly amusing because it happens to us all. Everyone has been last to collect their bags or worse, not had bags to colect at all! Everyone has met the customs people who are less than polite and we have all had to sit next to the yawner, the screamer or the guy who doesn't know when to shut up.

Another lunch, another treat for the senses

Sometimes I stop for half a moment and wonder why I do it. It's those times when I'm stuck in that longest line at 2am waiting to have my passport stamped by the guy who doesn't care how long my flight was, or how long I have already been standing there. But then I think back to my travels and I look at the photos in this blog and I sit for hours thinking up new adventures or talking over old ones. It's funny how the 'Bizzaro World' always gets forgotten amongst the memories of all the great times.