On the evening of the day I moved in with Giovanni, Katya flew in from Liverpool. Curiously, trains in the UK are often more expensive than planes. Look what the Labour party has brought the country to! Katya pulled a fast one, and relied on luck and the Ryanair staff being in a rush at the end of boarding. For the umpteenth time, she flew with a bag noticeably larger than the only recently allowed free one — a small personal item. Nowadays, everything bigger costs money. I still have fresh memories of the time they made me throw away two kilos of excess weight on Norwegian when I was flying from the US. Therefore, I'm on edge (or maybe just because my nerves are shot) and brought a tiny foldable backpack, just big enough to fit my mini-laptop. Because of this, I had to buy a more comfortable mini-backpack at Decathlon so I could comfortably hike the mountains in Romania. I'll keep Katya's experience in mind for the future, I'll try to take my work backpack for the laptop.
For the hundred-thousandth time, I blindly trusted what I was told instead of relying on my own knowledge and calculations. I had figured out in advance when Katya was supposed to make it to the center from the airport. Instead, I headed out for the time she sent me on WhatsApp, and didn't even double-check. Nevertheless, the family reunited successfully, we didn't even have to write to the "Wait for Me" TV show. At home, I had neither the energy nor the desire to plan for others as well. I dumped it all on Katerina. Especially since she is also an experienced traveler by now, and she has ideas about where to go and what to see. First on the list was the Camera Obscura and World of Illusions museum. And that's exactly where we headed the following morning.
The museum, which is also an attraction, is one of the oldest in the city, dating all the way back to 1835. It's dedicated to optical illusions. The topic is popular anyway, and for me, it hits really close to home. Cognitive biases, bugs in our brain's firmware — what could be more entertaining. I usually feel like one big glitch myself anyway, and here they'll officially explain to me what's what. The museum is located right in the center, and therefore quite densely packed into five floors. With a restroom on the mezzanine floor, so as not to waste any space.
We bought the ticket right on the spot. Designer Lebedev constantly mentions that you should always check everywhere for promo codes — you never know. That's what I did, and at first it seemed like I could save a quid — not too bad for a couple of minutes of messing around. However, it didn't work out. Entrance, just so you know, costs 16 pounds. The prices for such things here are pretty wicked, unless the kind government makes a museum or two free.
Curiously, the ticket to the world of illusions works like at a nightclub or a festival. They stamp the mark of the beast on your palm. That's so when you get completely exhausted, you can go out, grab a bite to eat, rest up — and then head back into the world of wonders. I don't recall ever coming across this in a museum before.
A camera obscura is the simplest type of device like a photo camera, only without image fixation. In recent years, the idea has become popular under the name of a pinhole — a camera made from a matchbox.
The device itself, which gave the museum its name, is located on the sixth floor. You can't take pictures of it, you can only describe it, although it's hard to amaze today's person, spoiled by smartphones, with such a thing. One thing pleasantly surprised me — the possibility of a panoramic view.
On the top floor, there's also a killer view of Edinburgh. Katya, out of old habit, climbed on the wall to take a cool photo, but the caretaker busted her. By the way, don't forget that all the photos on my blog are clickable.
However, I didn't take many photos inside the museum. That's the whole point of illusions, you have to stare at them with your own eyes (and brains). I liked the museum, the least boring of all the ones I've been to lately. Usually, museums are a warehouse of old junk. Even the most patient person starts moaning after an hour to be let out into the fresh air. Here it's much livelier — eye candy, as my friend puts it. It sparks — that's how I put it. I can only explain why in a private conversation.
Besides all sorts of static illusions, the obscura also has this massive spinning tunnel
Endless stars in endless mirrors
There are quite a lot of illusions in the museum, and some I'd never seen before, and didn't even imagine there were such tricky ones. By the way, I finally managed to see a stereogram made of tiny elements for the first time in my life. They often publish these in magazines, but before this, I just couldn't make friends with them. But here, I got it right away. It's very funny — people are walking around and failing at it, while I stand there tripping out. A museum worker says it took him half a year himself to finally get it.
A tunnel where the walls around you are spinning, all of them at once (you're inside a huge cylinder). For people with a weak vestibular system, this is just game over. It spun me around good, but I still went back for another go. It's very rare for something to affect a person as strongly as swimming walls.
I hadn't seen Katerina since April, when she flew to Latvia, where she threw her birthday party in her usual mind-blowingly creative spirit. This time — in the format of the game "What? Where? When?". It's a pity, of course, that not only brains are draining from our country, but humor as well. In the end, everyone will leak out to wherever they're supposed to go according to the laws of communicating vessels, and then we'll really start living! Just kidding, because as we all know, it's good where we are not, and when we are everywhere, it won't be good anywhere anymore.
Nevertheless, being on vacation is exactly what's good, especially when you're not spending it alone. We caught up on what each of us is up to, the news and gossip, plans and so on. It's especially cool when the vacation is just starting, and there are no particular worries or anxieties ahead, except for the omnipresent FOMO — the fear of missing out. For me, this fear alternates with "let it all burn" thoughts and apathy, and I didn't escape this even on vacation. Sleep deprivation contributes a bit too much. Through a stupid hole in my room, the smell of fried eggs and Giovanni's noisy discussions with guests about their plans would seep in during the mornings. It somewhat poisoned my life while I was staying at this pad. On the other hand, the day Katya and I walked around Edinburgh together is one of those few that I can call happy.