My reading of the God situation is not particularly well-informed. But it would seem to me that, although God is all around everywhere all the time, on Sundays, given the strong focused prayer of hundreds of thousands of believers all around the world, he would be particularly close to the fore, and particularly attuned to the needs of his flock.

The problem identified by those who would seek to move Hallowe’en from Sunday seems to be the comingling of the sacred with the profane, or, in the minds of the most extreme believers, the veneration of evil spirits on a sacred day. Would it not be, however, that a Sunday would be the best time to have Hallowe’en, what with God extra-especially present and ready to do battle with evil at the drop of a hat?

While I have plenty of photos of our trip to Croatia, it will take a while to sort through them before I can post the best online. In the meantime, here are some of the sounds of Croatia that I recorded while there last week and the week before.

The sounds were recorded by holding my mobile phone out as a microphone, and using the built-in sound-recorder to record the incoming sound. I imported the sounds via Bluetooth into my iBook, converted them from AMR to AIFF files (using QuickTime Pro), and then converted them to MP3 files using iTunes.

• Slunj - October 10, 2004
• Waterfalls [00:11, 24 KB MP3]
• Plitivice Lakes National Park - October 10, 2004
• Fast-running Waterfall [00:21, 24 KB MP3]
• Babbling Brook [00:14, 32 KB MP3]
• Waterfall [00:11, 24 KB MP3]
• Brook and Waterfall [00:14, 32 KB MP3]
• Gospic - October 10, 2004
• Rain storm, Hotel Ana [00:14, 32 KB MP3]
• Split - October 12, 2004
• Geese in the Zoo [00:12, 28 KB MP3]

In a surprising move Monday, after voting to move Hallowe’en to October 30 to avoid a “an erosion of Christian values,” Charlottetown City Council has also decided that Christmas Day should be moved to December 26 — a Sunday — to ensure that secular values are similarly preserved.

Charlottetown Mayor Clifford Lee told sources that he wanted to avoid the “values interference issues” that would inevitably result from such a holy day coinciding with a Saturday, traditionally used by city residents to engage in such secular activities as “going to Canadian Tire” and “buying groceries at the Superstore.”

“We’re concerned,” said Lee, “that residents would be forced to suspend secular activities at a time of year — and at a time in our history — when secular activities are at risk …the symbols and messages of Christmas — angels, shepherds, peace, joy and all that — are at odds with the kind of economic development activity we want to see in the City.”

Members of the religious community were not available for comment.

As detailed here, I signed up earlier this year for the CIBC Club Privileges Travel. One of the features of this program is that it affords access to all of Air Canada’s airport lounges for lowly not-as-frequent flyers like me.

To my surprise, I’ve made a lot of use of this access. One of the facts of life on the “new Air Canada” is the hours one must spend in Halifax or Montreal waiting for connecting flights on to the U.S. or back to Charlottetown. Spending these hours in the slightly upgraded comfort of the lounge makes it slightly less annoying.

The greatest benefit of the lounges, for me, is the quiet. There is a palpable and very annoying hum in airport waiting rooms — I don’t know whether it’s the flourescent lights, the jetliners, or the masses of disgruntled people, but it can drill into your brain. Air Canada’s lounges are generally much quieter — you notice this as soon as you walk in the door — and that greatly reduces the stress of travel.

What hasn’t paid off to the extent that I imagined is the access to food and beverage. If you’re a big consumer of alcohol, access to unlimited beer, wine, and liquor is probably pretty attractive. Indeed, from the prominence of the liquor area, this appears to be one of the big selling features of the lounges for a lot of travelers. This doesn’t hold a huge appeal for me — drinking before flying makes flying a lot worse — so I’m left to graze around the edges and partake of the meagre non-alcoholic offerings.

Food-wise, it appears, from the kitchen infrastructure in place, that food was once an important component of the offering. This is no longer the case. The worst example is Halifax, where there’s never more than cheese and crackers, and those cardboard-infused “sesame snacks” that Air Canada offers in the air. In Montreal, especially at breakfast time, things are somewhat better: toast, bagels, yoghurt, fruit. In Newfoundland yesterday there was a snack area with uncommon variety of cookies, chips, nuts, etc. But you’re not going to find anything resembling a meal in the lounge.

The true gem of the lounge network however, from my limited experience to date, is the Air Canada Arrivals Lounge at Heathrow airport in London.

This lounge isn’t advertised a lot. It’s hard to find: you have to go outside Terminal 3 to the area in front of the shuttle buses and enter through an almost-hidden door. And it’s tiny.

But they offer hot showers, in well-equipped personal washrooms. A decent breakfast, endless tea and coffee, a good selection of newspapers and magazines, and an Internet terminal (albeit a locked-down, very slow Internet terminal).

For the opportunity to have a hot shower alone, the yearly fee for lounge access is worth it (I was able to bring Dad in for a $20 guest fee; he agreed). Nothing takes the edge off the catatonia of trans-Atlantic travel like a hot shower. And having a little quiet area of regroup before heading back out into London chaos after arrival formalities was quite useful as well: we had a long travel day (bus to Stanstead, plane to Slovenia, bus to Ljubljana) ahead of us after landing, and the break was very welcome.

On the way back through Heathrow to Canada, I stopped in at the departures lounge for a quick use of their Internet access. This lounge is hared with the Scandinavian airline SAS, and the style is very Nordic: bleached woods, clean design, cool colours. I didn’t spend a lot of time there, but it did seem a very pleasant space, especially if you had a couple of hours to kill: there was a TV lounge, about a dozen Internet terminals, slightly more food than usual, and a lot of interesting areas to sit. And the supply of Scandinavian magazines and international newspapers on the racks to pilfer was welcome too.

Since I found an Internet café inside this castle in the south of the Czech Republic in 1998, it’s been apparent that Internet is available, for all intents and purposes, everywhere.

By everywhere I mean “everywhere a North American is likely to travel in the world.” But also many other places. In areas where travelers congregate, inevitably wiley local entrepreneurs recognize the market opportunity, and Internet cafés — sometimes dozens of them — spring up around traveler populated areas. And in areas where there are fewer travellers, there is often less local infrastructure, and therefore more of a need for shared Internet access. Which travelers can also use.

My experience of the world is hardly complete, of course. But I’ve found Internet access readily available in the Czech Republic, Thailand, Spain, Germany, the U.K., Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, and all across the U.S.

On our recent trip, for example, we used the Internet in a café in downtown Zagreb (14.70 kuna/hour), a hotel in the small town Kutina, Croatia (18 kuna/hour), a café on the 7th floor of an old building overlooking the harbour in Split, Croatia (16 kuna/hour), a late-night storefront operation in Ancona, Italy (1 euro/30 minutes), and a small shop that sold everything from phone cards to fax access to photocopying across from the train station in Ancona (1 euro/20 minutes). There are 5 kunas to a Canadian dollar as I write this, and a Euro is worth about $1.59CDN.

Access was sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but generally quite reliable. The machines were all Windows-based, with Internet Explorer installed, and sometimes Netscape. Sometimes America Online Instant Messenger was installed; other times I ran the “AIM Express,” which you can run from within a web browser from aim.com. Although I didn’t need to use it, there was usually Microsoft Word, and sometimes Excel installed. I checked my email through a web-based client, updated my website, and even used a Java-based SSH client to connect to servers when it was required a couple of times.

The only technical walls I ran into were in Air Canada lounges, and one of the Internet cafés, where, for some reason, I couldn’t connect to secure webservers that required a username and password: I would get prompted for this information, but as soon as I entered the username, the password field would get “greyed out” and I wouldn’t be able to enter anything there.

The interesting thing about all this access, everywhere, is that, short of checking my email, and looking up small things like air travel departure times, I’ve found, more and more, that the world of Internet holds far less appeal when traveling than when at home. What interest is the constant technical chatter on /. when there’s interesting food to eat, and interesting sites to see?

For various reasons — staying in touch with home, staying in touch with work, calling rescue workers when trapped inside mine-laden fields — I brought a mobile phone with me on my trip to Croatia (North American readers should know that the term “cell phone” appears limited to this side of the oceans; it’s “mobile phone” or simply “mobile” overseas). Now that I’m back, I thought it might be useful to share some of my experiences so that others might follow in my connected footsteps.

The phone itself was a Sony Ericsson T68i, borrowed from a friend. As recounted here earlier, I initially ran into problems with this phone because it was “locked” to the Rogers network, and thus wouldn’t work on other mobile company networks.

I should pause briefly and explain what this means. Mobile companies — Aliant, Fido, Telus, Rogers, etc. — often sell phones at a deep discount as an incentive to sign up new customers. We’ve all seen the “free phone for new customers” ads in the paper. There are usually two catches: first, you often have to agree to sign a long-term two or three year service contract, with a penalty to release yourself from obligations if you cancel early. And, second, the “free” phone you get is configured so that it will work only on the network of the company you purchase it from: it is, in other words, “locked” to their network.

Besides the “mobile” vs. “cell” naming difference, the other big North America vs. the world difference is in the cell phone network itself. Outside of North America, and especially in Europe, GSM networks predominate; here in North America, while there are some GSM networks (Rogers has one, as does Fido, along with AT&T and T-Mobile in the U.S.), most cell phones are not GSM phones — they use other technologies, like CDMA or TDMA.

If you’re traveling to Europe, you can ignore the underlying technical reasons for all of this and simply concentrate on the fact that you’ll need a GSM phone for Europe. Which means that you’re “home” cell phone is probably of little use to you. You can buy unlocked GSM phones from many sources online, or you can buy a locked phone and, as I did, get it unlocked for you (see below).

The other thing to know about GSM phones is that integral to their operation is something called a “SIM card,” which is a little postage stamp-sized chip that slides into the phone, usually underneath the battery (the picture shown here is of a Vodafone SIM card still inside its credit-card sized holder; you snap the SIM card out before inserting it into the phone). A SIM card is required to use GSM phone on a given mobile company’s network.

If you have a “locked” phone, like I did, then the phone will only accept a SIM card from the company it is “locked to.” If, however, you have an unlocked phone, then it will accept any SIM card from any company. And you can mix and match, using whichever company’s SIM card and network are best for you at a given time.

So here’s what I did.

First I bought a SIM card for one of the two Croatian mobile networks. I could have bought this once I got there, but I wanted to be prepared (and to verify that it would work), so I bought mine from U.S. company Telestial that sells SIM cards for many countries by mail order. My VIPme SIM card cost me $59US, and included the SIM card itself as well as about $12US worth of cell phone usage. VIPme is the Croatian affiliate of the large Vodafone provider; the benefit of buying a pre-paid SIM card was that I didn’t have to open any sort of account with VIPme; this is similar to the Solo (Aliant, Bell Canada) or Pay As You Go (Rogers) plans here in Canada. With a SIM card, you get “activated” on the mobile company’s network, a telephone number for your phone can callers can dial, and the ability to “recharge” your account with additional time.

Second, I bought a small travel charger for the phone. Because of time and possible customs delays, I bought this online from Fido. Although the was some confusion about the delivery date, and their telephone customer service was abysmal, the charger arrived when they said it would, 5 days after I ordered it.

Finally, I needed to get the phone unlocked. Following some helpful advice from readers, I waited until getting to Europe to do this (Rogers itself wanted $250 to unlock the phone from their network, and wouldn’t accept my money for this service unless I opened an account with them and waited 30 days). Upon arriving in Ljubljana, Slovenia — our first destination — I only had to walk 3 blocks from our hotel before I found a small hole-in-the-wall mobile shop that, for $15, would unlock the phone. I dropped it off the next morning at 9:00 a.m., and they met me at the train station at 2:00 p.m. with an unlocked phone. I plugged in the Croatian VIPme card on the train to Zagreb, powered on the phone, entered the 4-digit PIN code I’d been given with the SIM card, and within 15 seconds I received an SMS text message from the local Vodafone affiliate in Slovenia welcoming me to the network. I called the customer service number provided in the SMS message which allowed me to set my language to English, and appeared to also have the effect of “activating” my account (Telestial suggested that I needed to “make, but not necessarily complete a call to a local Croatian number” to do this; I didn’t appear to have to do this).

I placed a call to my brother Johnny while speeding down the track from Ljubljana to Zagreb, he answered on the first ring, and I was in business (Note that to call North American numbers from Europe you generally prefix calls with “001.” So a call to my office was dialed “001 902 892-2556”). Unfortunately, I also talked to Johnny for long enough that I used up my entire initial $12.00 account credit, and had to wait until we arrived in Zagreb to recharge my account.

Recharging is easy: almost any tobacco shop or newsstand in Croatia (and I do mean any, not just urban ones, but shops in the hinterland) sells VIPme recharge vouchers, in either 100 kuna or 200 kuna amounts (that’s about $20 or $40 worth of credit). You buy the card (saying “VIPme” with a confused look on my face proved enough Croatian communication skills to get my point across), take it out of its plastic wrap and scratch off (like a lottery ticket) a line on the back to reveal a code number. You then simply call 0917788 on the phone, and follow the prompts to redeem a voucher. You can call 0917788 at any time to get an update on the account credit remaining, or you can dial *101# followed by “Talk” on the phone to get the remaining credit sent to you as an SMS text message.

One of the attractive features of the VIPme network is that all incoming calls, while in Croatia, are free. To take advantage of this, I rejigged our office phone system so that if callers “pressed 1 for Peter,” a call would be placed, using the inexpensive (30 cents US/minute) VoicePulse Connect rates, to my mobile phone. The effect was that my mobile became simply an “office extension” of my phone system, and callers didn’t have to incur international long distance charges to reach me (it also meant that I could phone home and simply ask Catherine to phone me back on the office phone).

Although it’s not “state of the art” anymore, the T68i is a pretty wonderful phone. In addition to making and receiving calls, it also has some additional features I put to good use.

The phone has a built in email client that will talk to an IMAP or POP mail server. I didn’t find this out until the third day of our trip, but it proved really, really handy because it meant that I could pick up and read my email on the phone, and didn’t have to go into Internet cafes nearly as much. To configure this required going to the “Connect” menu on the phone, selecting “Data comm,” and then creating a new GPRS data connection. For the VIPme network, this required an APN of gprs0.vipnet.hr, with a username of 38591 and a password of 38591 (this information was available on the VIPme website; I assume similar information is available from other providers). Once this connection was set up, I created a new mail account, and selected this new GPRS data account under the “Connect Using” menu item. The other mail account parameters were as you would expect: mail server, username, password, name, etc. exactly as you would configure your regular email client on your computer. The outgoing mail server for VIPme is mail.vip.hr and this doesn’t require a username or password to use. Setting up a data account was the one place where the phone appeared not to be “fully unlocked” from Rogers: every time I powered the phone off, the new VIPme data account I’d added would disappear, and five canned Rogers data accounts would appear; this wasn’t a huge problem, as I simple re-entered the information whenever I had to power the phone on, which wasn’t often.

The email client is pretty slick: it picks up messages 10 at a time, and can be set to only read the headers (rather then the entire message), so you can pick and choose which to read, which to ignore and which to delete. Selecting any message will download it for reading, and it can then be replied to, deleted, or saved to a local archive. Obviously typing message out on a tiny phone keyboard isn’t quick or particularly easy, although the “T9” system on the phone, that lets you simply type away and presents you with a menu of possible words based on what you’ve typed so far, makes it go a lot easier than the old “press 2 three times for the letter C” method.

I was able to send and receive email all the way from Zagreb, into rural Slavonia, down south through Plitvice and Gospic, and then down the coast to Split. Without any changes, I had exactly the same access in Ancona, Italy, and in London, although I suspect I was paying more for this “roaming” data service than I was in-country.

The T68i has a sound recorder built into it, with about 25 minutes recording time available. I used this feature to capture some of the sounds of our trip: geese in the Split zoo, waterfalls at Plitvice, driving rain in Gospic. I haven’t tried to get these sounds off the phone yet; I’ll update this post once I’ve tried.

The phone is also Bluetooth-capable. By purchasing a D-Link USB Bluetooth Adapter for my Mac before leaving, I was able to sync my calendar (flight times, hotel information, etc.) and my address book (email addresses and phone numbers) to the phone using Apple’s iSync. This wasn’t completely painless, mostly because my address book is so large that it exceeded the capacity of the phone, which is 500 telephone numbers (note that is telephone numbers: one person with two numbers counts as two of those slots). But it worked, and it was handy to have that information in my pocket as I traveled.

There were a couple of smaller, but still useful aspects of the phone that I put to work: there’s a “My Pictures” feature that allows pictures to be transferred from a desktop to the phone — I set my screensaver on the phone to a photo of Oliver. I used the built in calculator to do foreign currency conversion (our short trip involved British Pounds, Slovenian Tolars, Croatian Kunas and Euros in Italy; lots of conversion was required). And the built-in alarm clock saved our bacon when we slept through the alarm on Dad’s watch on the ferry across the Adriatic.

Of course the phone is also a phone, and it came in handy as that as well.

The Croatian National Tourist Board runs a service called “Croatian Angels.” Dial 062 999 999 from anywhere in the country and you can speak to an English-speaking travel counsellor for only the cost of the call. We used this a couple of times — for example, to find the telephone number and address of the archives in Zagreb — and found it very useful and time-saving.

Only one major work-related issue arose that needed my attention: oddly enough, I got the call while touring the Split Zoo. The phone rang while I was standing in front of two lumbering black bears, and Johnny and I spoke for half an hour while I wandered around the war-torn homes of deer, rabbits, wolves and goats and figured out a DNS problem at home.

And, of course, it was nice to be able to keep in touch with home from time to time as we traveled.

With the exception of the middle of the Adriatic, and underground in the London tube, there wasn’t a location in Slovenia, Croatia, Italy or London that we went that didn’t have solid, strong mobile reception, from the most urban to the most rural areas. I could check my email and phone home while standing beside the chicken coop of my great-great Aunt Manda in rural Disnik, Croatia equally as well as when standing in front of Harrods in London. That was weird, comforting and disturbing all at the same time: to be never out of touch can feel like a curse, but it also makes the world seem a lot smaller, which is sometimes not such a bad thing.

Costs broke down as follows:

• Cell Phone:         Free (borrowed from a friend)

• Travel Charger:     $49.00

• SIM Card:           $76.00

• Unlocking:          $15.00

• Recharge Vouchers:  $40.00

• Long Distance:       $8.00

• TOTAL:             $188.00

Was it worth it? If I combine the peace of mind that being always reachable afforded, the utility of being able to send and receive email from anywhere, and the amount I was able to learn about the technology by using it, to saying nothing of the geeky glee of it all, I’d say yes. I expect having a mobile will become a part of my usual traveling regime from now on.

Some interesting mobile phone side-notes: in Zagreb, Split and Ancona (and, I’m sure, many other places), you can pay for parking with a mobile phone — you call the number of the parking kiosk you’re standing in front of, and your mobile account is debited. You can also pay for parking tickets. In addition to buying recharge vouchers from newsstands, they’re also available from many ATM machines; I couldn’t get this to work with my Canadian bank card, though, so I suspect you need a in-country account. And everyone in Europe appears to have a mobile phone, no matter where they live; it is a truly ubiquitous device.

The Air Canada lounge in the St. John’s airport wins, hands down, for the fastest (to say nothing of the most ergonomic) Internet of the trip. Indeed this is the fastest Air Canada lounge Internet I’ve ever experienced — it’s like a T1 to this PC. Contrast this to the Halifax airport, where their machines dial out to a slow modem connection, and Newfoundland looks like the place to be. Snacks are better here too.

For some reason, my Air Canada flight from London to Halifax stops in St. John’s, Newfoundland, everyone has to get off the plane, get our luggage, and then we all clear customs here. Then we wait an hour, get back on the same plane, in the same seats, and fly to Halifax.

I know I should could myself lucky for having an airline industry still around to get me from London to Charlottetown in one day. But this seems a little insane.

You have to love a Premier who can be quoted as saying “bootleggers offer a social environment which has become part of the Island culture.” He’s right, of course. And brave to admit so.

We arrived London yesterday in the late afternoon via RyanAir, which, along with EasyJet, has changed air travel in Europe forever. Our 2 hour Italy to London trip cost us $32 each, and was a pleasant, on-time, professional flight.

In a credit to his open-mindedness, Dad enthusiastically embraced the notion of staying here at Ashlee House, a backpacker hostel near Kings Cross: clean, simple accommodation for 24£ each a night, with breakfast and, as such, a great alternative to expensive London hotels. We had the best sleep of the trip.

We’re off to the airport in a couple of minutes to fly home. It’s been a good trip: we found family, saw new and old parts of the world, and spent more time with each other than we have in 24 years. It was fun.