Post the Twelfth

Swim-Swim is at it again.


 He has been primping and preening ever since he received overwhelming support for his tour of the ship.  Insufferable little so-and-so.  And so now he wants to follow that up with another tour - this time of my living spaces and sundry others on station here at Davis.

And who am I to refuse him?  I may have mentioned once or twice before that he can be persuasive.  Persistent too.  Persistent and persuasive.

So here goes.  Swim-Swim's tour of (a portion of) Davis Station.

We start as we did previously, with Swim-Swim proudly showing off my monastic cell room.

Blogfactory Central

The rooms in the Summer Accommodation Module (SAM) are not generously proportioned, shall we say.   Unless you're a stuffed toy penguin.  Then they are palatial.

It's big enough though.  If it were any smaller, however, I might need to put vaseline on my shoulders in order to get in.

Nextly, Swim-Swim was adamant that he demonstrate the corridor outside our room.  So here is that.

Pointless

So, what can be said about this photo?  Well... The doors are a kind of goldy yellowy colour. Aaaaand... well, there's carpet on the floor.  I suppose.

Moving right along.  This is downstairs - the cloak room.

Colourful

Outside footwear is not permitted on the inside of living quarters.  Davis is very gravelly and dusty, and the dust clings to your boots, and you track it everywhere.  A mother's worst nightmare.  So, when you come inside you must remove them, and here the Penguin helpfully shows you where I stow mine.  That's my coat above him too.  Because I live in the goldy/yellowy corridor, I store my outside gear on the goldy/yellowy panel.

It's logical, captain, as Mr Spock would doubtless opine.

Now we pop those boots on and step outside the SAM where...

Boffins

...we discover Ian and Cassie, a couple of jolly boffins, engaged in a 'gash run'.  The gash run is a rostered Saturday duty in which a couple of expeditioners travel around the various buildings collecting the rubbish and sorting it into its various components.  These two were sorting out the SAM rubbish when Swim-Swim and I showed up, so they paused to pose with the Penguin.

We've met Ian before, when he donated his hair (and his dignity) to charity.  Hero.

Gash run aside, Swim-Swim wanted to show you the entrance to the SAM.  Why?  Because he did.

Door.  Windows.  Whatever.

OK.  Done that.  Satisfied the Penguin,.

Turning left, Swim-Swim is confronted for the first time by the ANARESAT dome.

Holy mother of...

It freaked him out a bit.

I had a bit of a go at explaining to him what it was, but he wasn't really paying attention.  Instead I heard him muttering something about "getting out of here before the penguin that laid it gets back" or something.

This next thing really impressed Swim-Swim, and that is why he wanted to highlight it.  These are the site services lines.

Electricity, data, water and something else

Built up on tracks so that they can be accessed even with the heaviest buildup of ice and snow, these lines link all of the buildings with electricity, comms and data, fresh water (in heated pipes - great!) and sewage (also kept heated - ew!)  The liquids are heated because, well, you just don't want the contents freezing, cracking the pipes, and then spilling out on the ground when it thaws.  You just don't want that.

You don't.

Now we're on our way to the mess, in the Living Quarters.  On the way there, Swim Swim thought it might be worthwhile to highlight this:

Capital advice

Obviously, refraining from smoking around cylinders of stuff which, if it went off, would turn you into powder is a very good strategy.  The Penguin wanted to make a wider statement about tobacco use, though.  He reckons it stunts your growth.  After all, look what it did to him.

And now, of course, stairs.

Is this really necessary?

I tried to convince him that we don't need this, but the stubborn little blighter was adamant.  He wanted a photo of him cresting the stairs to the front entrance to the LQ.  OK.  Fair enough.  This is his story and he's telling it.

So, ladies and gentlement, Swim-Swim and I present to you:  stairs.

Then into the LQ we go.

Governance

All domestic and office buildings have a cold porch.  Two functions are served - to provide that insulative barrier so that the warm interior air does not immediately escape into the environment, and also a place where dirty footwear comes off while the wearer is inside.

Swim-Swim is very serious about the correct removal and storage of dirty footwear.  Here he checks that I have done it properly.  Evidently I got his seal of approval.  Huzzah.

Once inside the mess, Swim-Swim pauses to look at the view afforded by the large mess windows.

An estate agent's fantasy

Not bad for a place of work, is it?  Of course you don't spend too much time look at the view - there's too much else to do.  But, when you are having a break, it's wonderful.

And, when you are having a break, would you like a coffee?

Mmm...  coffee...

Swim-Swim is too diminutive in size to operate this machine effectively.  But since he doesn't drink any coffee, it hardly matters, does it?

And if you're here at a mealtime (which we invariably are)...

Hungry

The chefs do a brilliant job.  Although the layout is cafe self-service style, the food is restaurant quality.  We're quite spoiled, actually.

Swim-Swim always seems to go for the seafood option.   Unadventurous little bird, sometimes.

And finally, oftentimes behind the counter in the mess you will find...

Slushstraordinaire

...a slushy!  Or in this case, a super slushy.  Hi Hannah!


And that's it for Swim-Swim's tour du jour.  There may well be others down the track.  You know what he's like - he gets notion in that little avian cranium of his, and there's no letting go of it.  And then it's just pester, pester, pester.


But for now, au revoir!  (Or, as they say in France, au revoir!)