My friends at Plazes have been in the midst of an extended-play relaunch of their service for the past week. They decided to simultaneously release a complete re-write of the underlying code, a complete re-cast of the UI, move their offices across town and, for good measure, to send the two founders to Copenhagen in the midst of all this.

Among the functionality casualties of all this upgrading, at least for the moment, are the ability to reliably “Plaze one’s self” by SMS using a mobile phone. Which is the way that I tend to use Plazes most.

Hence the irony of arriving in Berlin, all ready to experience the heady joys of being drenched in geotaggalicuous Plazes goodness only to find it all just frustratingly beyond my grasp.

It Will All Get Better soon, they tell me. Perhaps just in time for my departure ;-)

I’ll no doubt have more to report once I’m inside the mothership later today.

Met up with Stefan from Plazes for beer and pizza and got a short intro to the city layout. Tomorrow I’ll do some exploring, and then visit the Plazes mothership. Good night!

Got to Berlin in one piece. Spent the leg from Hamburg to Berlin trapped in a hot compartment with an evil-eyed 9 year old who resented that I stole his cool double-wide seat setup with my reservation. Emerged into the chaos of the new railway station and managed, through magic and luck, to navigate my way by S-train and tram, to my hotel. Where I promptly fell asleep. I am now out on the town, trying to work around the different position of the “Z” on the German keyboard and looking for fun.

After a delightful day, I’m eking out the last few MB of wifi getting the 411 on Berlin — how to get there, how to get from train to hotel, where to find the new Plazes HQ, etc. I’m heading out tomorrow morning on the early train (yes, train trumped air!), and will arrive mid-afternoon. I’m excited to be discovering a new city, and experiencing the Plazes Crew firsthand in their native environment.

Today was another in the series “great last days in Copenhagen” (see 2006 and 2005).

Started off the day at Louisiana where I eventually hooked up with Henriette, Thomas, Penny, Pedro, Patricia and Dannie, rebooteros all. We ended up spending more time eating and rolling down grassy hills than appreciating art, but that was much more fun anyway.

After saying farewells-til-next-year and leaving Pedro and Patricia at the train north, I headed back into the city where I hooked up with Olle and headed into his ‘hood for dinner.

Our destination was an anarchic nameless bistro with a defiant attitude (“you must be seated to receive your bill!”) and simple vegan-friendly fare (their Guava juice was to die for). Luisa biked in at just the right time, and we got out just before the true hard-edged chaos ensued. Once out the door we immediately ran into Sean, who I will see again at Plazes in Berlin shortly (Copenhagen is a village, it seems).

For post-dinner plotting and scheming we headed across the way to what amount to the best bar I’ve ever been to (or at least one that equals Café de la Grave in its excellentness) where I enjoyed beer and then hot chocolate (“the consistency of pudding” as Luisa said).

Part-fodder for our scheming and plotting was Olle and Luisa’s upcoming “Artist in Residence” project in Charlottetown, now penciled in for Spring 2008. Many other issues were covered in addition, and a good and merry time was had by all.

We left Luisa and Olle and I headed to bike up his bike and get me on the train south. Which dumped me at Central Station. A short walk to Cab Inn City and here I am. It’s getting late, and I’ve got to back and sort and fiddle. So good night. See you in Berlin.

Woke up startlingly early this morning and got my bicycle back to the rental dungeon on time. Although there was a light mist in the air, I decided a walk to the “old neighbourhood” was in order, so I headed west on Vesterbrogade trolling for coffee. Ended up at Musik Conditori, a bakery and café that Oliver and I passed last year on a walk to the park; had an excellent cappuccino and croissant outside on the patio under the awning and enjoyed the crisp morning air.

I caught the bus back to the city centre and took a nap in my hotel room for an hour to take the edge off the repeated days of intense activity, little sleep, an uncommon amounts of alcohol. Just as I was pondering my next move, Olle phoned with a lunch invite. As the Internet went down as soon as he hung up, I went out into the Copenhagenosphere flying blind, but through a combination of luck and a good memory, managed to navigate my way in, with Olle talking me in for the final block.

Lunch with Olle and Luisa was an excellent vegetarian burger at Chili, near the National Museum. The restaurant, like most of the city, was full of Swedish footballers making ready for the matach against Denmark later in the day.

Post-lunch we wandered and ended up at a large downtown bookstore. After a wander round the stacks there was an unexpected rendezvous with Henriette and her crew out on the street, which led us to a coffee at Paludan, a book store cum café where we all squeezed around a couple of tables and engaged in general merriment.

Just before 17h, Olle and Luisa and I headed off to Plex to see a performance of Herr Schreber, a performance that Olle had earlier sold me as a “variety show in English and Danish” that turned out rather to be a “musical theatre piece in Danish and English.” Nonetheless the show was delightful, something due in large part to the wit, musicality and invention of Pete Livingstone (the “English” part of the piece). The Livingstones Kabinet, an enterprise he fronts with partner Nina Kareis seems to bear much in common with Coleman Lemieux, to the point where they seemed pre-destined to collaborate at some point.

Post-show we headed to Sult, the café inside the Danish Film Institute for a drink, and then to Olle and Luisa’s place across down for a hearty dinner of dal followed by a “this is too late in the day, but it’s a Pavoni so I must” cappuccino. I rolled out around 10:00 p.m., caught the bus back to the hotel and promptly ran into Laurent and Andre milling about in the lobby.

Which is where I am right now, doing some cappuccino-fired late-nite blogging, and waiting for the Swedish footballers to return for some late-nite revelry. At which point I will go to sleep.

Yotel Gatwick is opening in July and is taking bookings now. I like the idea of tiny perfect hotels.

My mates at silverorange are looking for a system administrator. You’ll have to be able to deal with a fraternal atmosphere (in both the good and challenging uses of that word), considerable sarcasm, and living in our small Island province. In return you’ll find uncommon freedom, wicked-smart coworkers, and an opportunity to join us for Gong Bao every Thursday at Interlude. It’s not the job for everyone, but for the right person it might just change your life.

Every year as reboot draws to a close the final evening is spent out on the town in a restaurant of your choosing with a group of your new and old reboot confreres. The journey from reboot’s venue to the restaurant usually involves a little bit of a hike, and this often affords an opportunity to get to know some new people.

On this walk-to-dinner in 2005 I spent some time talking to Mark Wubben and at some point, once he learned that I was from Prince Edward Island, he proclaimed “oh, you must know Steven Garrity.”

This year, same walk (indeed much of the same crowd). Was talking to a developer from Copenhagen. Got to talking about Canada. Then Prince Edward Island. “Oh, you must know Steven Garrity.” Again. Turns out he too is a longtime listener to Steven’s Acts of Volition Radio show.

Last week I mentioned here that I’d set up a backup of the Elections PEI results website using the Amazon S3 storage service. The idea was that if all hell broke loose bandwidth-wise on our local server, we could redirect traffic there.

As it turns out, the server hummed along just fine so we didn’t need to flip any switches. Today I got the bill for the Amazon S3 setup:

Total cost: 4 cents. That’s not a misprint. There are no up-front “registration” or “setup” costs for S3 — you pay for storage, and you pay for bandwidth. In this case the bill broke down to 1 cent for the storage used — 956K for 3 days — and 3 cents for the bandwidth used, 0.110 GB, which represents simply the traffic from the minute-by-minute updates up the HTML pages on the S3 server.

Needless to say, this is a significant example of (a) how S3 rocks and (b) how the barriers to entry for almost anything on the web now are perception, imagination, creativity and sweat. In other words, if you’ve got something to say, you’ve no excuse, at least not a financial one, not to say it now.

Rebooting the Web 2.0 age on the BBC News website, uses the “Commentator Attack” poster for Jaiku as a graphic, with my “looking scared” photo front and centre. A few weeks ago I got an IM from Henriette: “quick, I need a picture of you looking really scared.” I complied (I was at Yankee at the time, and shut the door to my erstwhile office and shot some photos up against the filing cabinet); I sent the resulting photos across the wire, and this is where they ended up: