Are you interested in the 2026 World Cup? Even if you are not a sports fan the fever is palpable for many.
At Peterhof Castle
Marie and I were lucky enough to be in St. Petersburg during the 2018 World Cup held in Russia. This was well before the war in Ukraine. For us it was a very exciting experience. Here is the post that I wrote about that day.
At the FIFA Fanfest
While we did not go to a game, we got caught up in all the excitement. I went out with Jack from Virginia on an evening tour. Here are a few pics including drinking vodka with the locals who were happy to welcome us.
Out and about with Jack
As we strolled down Nevsky Prospect, fans from Iran and Morocco were everywhere as their teams would play there the next night. National and cultural pride was being expressed with exuberance. Suddenly two Russians crashed the show as their team had just beat Saudi Arabia 5 to 0 in Moscow. We were all screaming with excitement no matter who you were cheering for.
Iran beat Morocco 1 to 0 the next night. France defeated Croatia 2 to 0 to win the final for the cup that year. This year anything can happen including a Canadian win. Despite all the negatives about high ticket prices, corruption, politics and racism, it’s still a pretty good show.
Little Curaçao plays Germany today and has sent 3000 fans to see the game in Houston (that’s 2% of their total population at the game!!!)
Don’t miss it folks it even if you are not a fan of the beautiful game!
It’s a beautiful sunny day in Saint Petersburg. We get off the ship at 9h00 and it takes an hour to clear passport control due the large crowd. There are at least 8 cruise ships in town and it is the first day of World Cup in Russia.
Out tour guide’s name is Marina – the same as our ship. She speaks excellent English and off we go as a group of 16 on a luxury tour bus – day 1 of 3 here.
Saint Petersburg is breathtaking with 400 bridges over the Neva River and canals. The streets are wide, straight and surprisingly uncrowded for a city of 5 million plus. Founded by Peter the Great in 1703, it is Russia’s largest port and known as “The Venice of the North”. The only thing bad here is the weather. If it is nice, here they say wait 10 minutes and it will change. Today is glorious.
We stop for a photo shoot on the Neva. We head for the Peter and Paul Fortress and tour the golden domed cathedral. Inside we see the crypts of Peter the Great, Catherine the Great and many other Tsars.
We drive out into the suburbs and have lunch at a mini-palace facility. Food is somewhat bland like Poland but nourishing. Refueled, we head for the Peterhof Summer Palace.
Peterhof, constructed on the bank of the Baltic, was Peter’s getaway place. Extensive gardens and fountains abound. We tour the palace and marvel at the gold trim everywhere and the beautiful portraits of several Tsar dynasties. The fountains out front are stunning – gold aninals and statues and dozens of smaller fountains surround a 70 ft high fountain. It is all powered by gravity using 300 year old oak pipes designed by Peter himself to the carry water. Stunning!
That night, I head out on a private world cup experience tour with Jack from Virginia. We have our own guide and driver. We take some photos of the new soccer stadium and pick up some souvenirs. We go to a local bar. Everyone is cheering. Russia has just beat Sauida Arabia 5 – 0.
We have some beer and vodka. A fan from Toronto strolls over and explains he has tickets for 5 matches. Two Russians come over and want to have a toast. We drink some vodka and part as friends. We stroll down the Nevsky Prospect. There are hundreds of fans with flags. A large group of Iranians drown out the smaller Moroccan fan contingent. Russians runs by with their flag cheeriing. Everyone smiles and high fives us. Wow, a real international brotherhood experience! We call it a night, a fantastic one.
Note. I just finished reading this fabulous book about a lesser known Canadian hero. I have used A.I. to write this short book report for the first time.
Sir William Cornelius Van Horne (1843–1915) was an American-born railroad executive whose “demonic energy” and visionary leadership were instrumental in the development of the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) and the expansion of Canada as a unified nation. Termed by many as “the ablest railway general in the world,” he rose from a humble telegraph delivery boy to a legendary titan of industry.
Early Life and Rise to Prominence
Born in Illinois to Dutch ancestry, Van Horne began his career at age fourteen as a telegraph operator for the Illinois Central. He possessed a remarkable talent for technology, reportedly able to decode messages simply by listening to the clicks of the telegraph instrument. Though his early career was marked by a reputation as a practical joker—one stunt involving an electrified plate actually led to his firing—his honesty and talent saw him quickly rise through the ranks of several U.S. railroads, including the Chicago and Alton and the Southern Minnesota.
The Herculean Task: Building the CPR
In January 1882, Van Horne was hired as the General Manager of the fledgling Canadian Pacific Railway. Faced with a project many deemed impossible, he made the staggering promise to complete the transcontinental line in five years instead of ten. Under his relentless “pusher” management style, he achieved this feat, reaching Calgary in August 1883 and completing the main line in less than half the specified time.
Van Horne’s leadership was characterized by a fearless and hands-on approach. He frequently rode flatcars to the end of the tracks to inspect work personally and was known for his “forcible language”. He commanded immense respect from his men; in one instance, he famously confronted the notorious Jesse James gang on a train, and in another, he shamed a hesitant engineer by offering to drive a locomotive across a dangerous trestle himself.
Visionary for Tourism and Luxury
Van Horne famously stated, “If we can’t export the scenery, we’ll import the tourists,” a philosophy that led to the construction of grand hotels and resorts to promote tourism in the Canadian Rockies. His personal standards for excellence shaped the experience of first-class travel; he insisted on larger, luxurious sleeping cars featuring genuine hand-carved woodwork, silk curtains, and fine china. He even personally approved dining car menus, removing whiskey at one point to maintain the company’s dignity.
Legacy and Later Works
After resigning as CPR President in 1899, Van Horne’s energy did not wane. He moved to the tropics, where he electrified Havana’s streetcars and built the Guatemalan Railway. Beyond railroading, he was a true polymath: a painter, a marathon poker player, an amateur geologist with specimens named after him, and a gardener who specialized in roses.
When Sir William passed away in Montreal in 1915, the entire CPR system paid him a tribute unique in its history: every train across Canada stopped for fifteen minutes during his funeral, a final salute to the man who had quite literally built the backbone of the country.
He was the kind of person Canada really needs now. Whenever someone said about a particular big project that it could not be done, he held up his hand and said “I can do it”. I rate this book 10/10, a great read!
If you are interested in reading a slightly longer more exciting write up about his intriguing life click here.
We leave Ottawa in a small snow squall. Toronto is clear and we meet our group. We are being accompanied by Archbishop Emeritus Sylvain Lavoie, OMI and Fr Susai Jesu, OMI. Our tour provider Maria Drueco is also with us. We are a group of 28 pilgrims. Mostly from Edmonton but some from Sask and Manitoba.
A small mishap. John and Christine from Arnprior board an earlier flight to Toronto. When they get to the gate for Tel Aviv, their bags have apparently not made it to this flight. After a tense search everything is resolved. A smooth flight to Tel Aviv on Air Canada in their newest B787 Dreamliner.
Leaving the plane, another mishap. Marie inadvertently leves her wallet on the plane. After another tense wait, they find it and bring it to her. Hey, we are pilgrims and these things happen.
We head for Nazareth with a tall concrete wall on our right separating the Jewish State of Israel from the Palestinian West Bank settlements. There are gaps so it seems artificial and not needed but this is Israel we learn.
Our hotel is comfortable. Nazareth is very hilly and a large city. Much bigger than in Jesus time. The streets are narrow. We stop for a chicken shawarma sandwich lunch, yum. As we leave the restaurant, the call to Muslim worship sounds. A man looks at me and says to slow down. It’s time to pray. I say we heard this too in Istanbul. He says that is a good place.
That night we celebrate Mass and enjoy awonderful buffet dinner complete with humus, mediteranean style lamb stew, beef, roast chicken and dozens of sauces and spices.
We sleep and sleep at last. Thanks be to God for this pilgrimage and safe journey.
A few years back I wrote a biography of Mom on another platform to share with family members.
I was trying to capture the happenings from a treasure trove of family documents and photos. It was written in a detailed way for family members who know the context better than the casual reader now will.
I wish to share it here on Mother’s Day as I am thinking of Mom.
Mom, strong woman that she was, was never a complainer. She lived by the motto “Live and let live”. She carried herself proudly and while she might have an opinion on a family situation, she would refrain from interfering and do anything that she could to help. She was also a great cook!
So Mom, here is your life story. Happy Mother’s Day with all my love, I still miss you immensely.
When I was 6 or 7, I looked out the window of our house on Mountainview Ave in Ottawa’s west end and saw two boys my age doing somersaults in the front lawn across the street. I was recovering from a cold or flu and mom would not let me go out that day. I could hardly wait to join them. When I did, I met Bill Cross and Charles Moore for the first time. We became good friends.
A few years later, we were bored one day and asked my dad if he would light us a bonfire. He said no. So the 3 of us went off in the field with matches and some paper. Bill, the leader told us what to do. We lit a small fire in the dry grass. Charles and I were scared and started to put it out. Bill wanted us to wait a bit and when it grew larger said OK put it out now! But It was too late – we had set a grass fire which raised toward the back of some nearby homes. The fire was quickly extinguished when the men of the neighborhood got their garden hoses out and sprayed the approaching flames. Charles and I felt we were innocent and that Bill had been the instigator. Well my parents were having none of it and forced me to walk around the neighborhood and apologize. Not sure if Bill or Charles had to do this as well.
We lost touch with Bill a few years later as he was really smart and went off to the gifted school. Charles and I continued on as best of buddies.
Charles’s dad operated a Texaco service station on Carling Ave near Richmond Road. We would go out there for visits on hot days and have a coke for 5 cents out of the old water cooler machine. Charles would then take me out back and show me the dodge power wagon truck his uncle would use to clear snow in winter. My dad worked for the city as a lawyer and liked to play golf so this stuff was all new and exciting to me. Charles and I were always attracted to each other by what we learned from the other.
He would come to my house and we would play cars and trucks and blow off firecrackers in the garden. he had a record player and we would listen to Elvis Presley and Gordon Lightfoot. Charles was lighthearted, carefree and well spoken. I was more shy, serious and more bookish.
One day my mom asked me to bike up 3 blocks to the Stevenson farm and pick up some eggs. I was busy playing so good natured Charles said he would borrow my bike and raced off to do it on the rough road. When he came back, most of the eggs had broken in the wire basket and were now dripping down over the spokes. Charles scratched his head in disbelief. As we grew up we were in cubs together and scouts. On Christmas morning he would always call me with the question “What did you get?” Such is the relationship of good friends.
Many years later Charles drove out to visit me in Vancouver in a van. He brought out my grandmother’s coffee table for me. When he arrived one leg was broken as he had apparently sat on the table in the van,. On that same visit we went to see James Brown at an East Hastings night club. Yes James Brown! Charles acting suavely saying he would buy a round. The waiter returns with no beer saying Charles card was declined. I bought the beer that night. Such was my relationship with Charles.
In grade 6 or so Charles put up his hand one day and asked Mr Earl “What is x?” in math class. “Well Charles, x is a variable with an unknown value…” says Mr Earl. Charles replies “but sir, what IIISSSS x?”. It was an existential question which caught us all offguard and marked the highwater mark of Charles’ career in math. In high school Charles went into the trades program and I into arts and science. We remained the best of buddies as opposites attract. But things started to change. Charles had cars and girlfriends. He was eager to help me find a girlfriend too. There are many tales I could go into regarding this aspect.
In 1972 (50 years ago!) Charles and his beautiful wife Heather drove me and their friend Leslie to Florida for a short vacation. The windshield wipers were not working and Charles had to stick his head out the window at times to see, but somehow we made it safely. It was a memorable trip being my first exposure to palm trees and big ocean waves. We enjoyed the Kapok Tree restaurant, visited Cape Canaveral, Bush Gardens as well as the Daytona speedway. Wow!
I was the best man at his wedding to Heather. He offered me some edible hashish just before the dinner. I do not remember much after that including my congratulatory speech. Charles was my best man at my first marriage. He stole the spotlight with his good humour and tales of “peckin Morgan” which he called me at the time. “peckin Moore” I called him right back. The girls loved him.
We lost touch in our mid 20s when I left for Vancouver. When I came back to Ottawa – in 1982, I saw him once or twice but we were both into 2nd marriages with kids. I saw him a couple of more times since then over the years. The last time was about 4 years ago when he told me he was battling prostate cancer but was upbeat about it.
I went to see him a month ago when I learned he was in hospice. He said he could no longer walk due to extensive radiation treatment but was in no pain. He said he was very proud of the many lifelong friendships he had. We said our goodbyes by reminising a bit. I could not believe he was about to die. He was very focussed. I mumbled something like “hang in there buddy” as I left. Charles passed away on New Years eve. I am still totally devastated.
Where did it all go Charlie Moore? I am forever grateful for our friendship.
Update in 1925. Bill Cross who I hadn’t seen in almost 60 years recently passed away too. So that leaves me as the lone somersaulter survivor. RIP Bill and Charles!
I’ve had this book in my library for over 45 years and finally got around to reading it. Reading recently The Last Spike by Pierre Berton has spurred my interest in exploring more about the fascinating history of the railway in Canada.
What are freight rates and what was the issue?
The federal government back when railways had a monopoly, set up a series of rates for hauling cargo on the CPR (1885) and the CNR (1918) which often charged the West (and Maritimes) more than the equivalent rates in Ontario and Quebec. Western farmers in particular felt discriminated against and pressured their provincial governments to negotiate with Ottawa to resolve the issue. Politicians dug in on this as they realized they could make hay lol!
Who is Howard Darling?
Howard Darling was a U of T educated transportation economist and consultant with years of experience at the CPR and Transport Canada. He happened to be my step-father. Unfortunately he passed away suddenly in 1977 after having completed the manuscript for most of this book. Proff. Cecil E. law of Queen’s University took over and had the book published posthumously in 1980.
So what happened?
The Crowsnest Pass Agreement of 1897 locked in preferred rates for transporting western grain and flour. But extra charges for terminal storage and car handling snuck in over time while the policy framework remained stuck in the past. The disagreements morphed into other commodities, broader regional development issues and even the need for a federal subsidy to keep the railways solvent after labour strikes and generous settlements.
The acrimonious situation endured for over 60 years despite repeated efforts to rectify it which some thought was originally grounded in higher railway operational and capital costs, mountain terrain, longer distances, etc.).
AI generated cartoon
Governments came and went and still the problem persisted and grew, Finally in the 1960s with the rise of efficient truck transportation of goods, the fixed freight rates were swept aside in favour of permitting railways to charge whatever they could in order to remain competive. Howard interjected humour saying how all kinds of people including the man on the street pronounced on the issue over the years but had no direct knowledge or vested interest in the outcome.
The Constitutional Problem
In a remarkable last chapter, he narrows down the long delay in resolving the imbalance to the monolithic nature and failure of the Federal government. Built along the model of British rule for a much physically smaller country, Canada’s federal system was not up to providing the tools and assistance the West needed to overcome its unique set of geographical, environmental and economic problems, which were and still are, very different from those in Central Canada. He warned that a federation like Canada will not last long if it cannot handle a wide variety of diverse interests in an efficient and effective manner.
The beautiful high trestle over the Oldman River in Lethbridge, AB
One concrete suggestion he made was to enable Federal MPs to sometimes vote according to their regional constituents’ interests rather than strictly on party lines.
The book is very well written and researched. I found it difficult to read in places due to the amount of detail but what an eye opener on the politics of freight rates and the larger issue of failures in Federal-Provincial relations that persist today.
I truly think that Howard Darling wrote a remarkable book both for the policy analyst and the general reader that is still relevant today. Oh Canada, what a beautiful thing!
I remember seeing Robert play outside at Camp Fortune near Ottawa that summer. He sang his award winning song Lindberg among others.
The lyrics blend absurdity, pop culture and Quebec joual slang. That being said it is a very memorable song that transformed the Quebec music scene. Here is an English translation of the lyrics.
Spoken Intro: Astro-jets, whisper-jets, clipper-jets, turbos… By the way… I was at Sophie’s. Who took the plane, Holy Spirit of Duplessis, without telling me! So… I took off again on…
Chorus: Quebecair, Transworld, North-east, Eastern, Western, and Pan-American! But I don’t know where I’ve ended up.
Verse 1: I went to the south of the south, under the sun. Blue, white, red, palm trees and frozen coconuts. At the poles, with tanned Eskimos. Who knit arrow sashes. And always, Sophie, who had just left again.
Chorus: Quebecair, Transworld, North-east, Eastern, Western, and Pan-American! But I don’t know where I’ve ended up.
Verse 2: There was even, there was even a company that hired pigeons that flew inside. And that did the balancing to keep it in the wind. It was absolutely, absolutely, absolutely very messy.
Chorus: Quebecair, Transworld, North-east, Eastern, Western, and Pan-American! But I don’t know where I’ve ended up.
Verse 3: My Sophie, my very own Sophie, took a company that flew on Turkish rugs. And me, by the way… I ended up on camelback!
Chorus: Quebecair, Transworld, North-east, Eastern, Western, and Pan-American! But I don’t know where I’ve ended up.
Outro: Then I took a fall… a hell of a fall with a parachute. And I found my Sophie. She was in my bed… with my best friend. And above all, my jar of maple cookies, that I had collected…
You may recall in a recent post, I described the progression of computer technology I have used over my life to date. [From Hollerith Cards to Sandbox Escape]. This is the short sequel….
This story which you probably heard about already, is about AI. AI depends on a colossal amount of computing power and electricity input to function. The basic engines of AI are the GPU chips that can now process upwards to 2 Tera flops per second (2×10¹⁵)!
AI is possible because of the invention of the CMOS (Complementary Metal Oxide Semiconductor) in 1963 by researchers Wanlass and Sah at Fairchild Semiconductor with RCAs help a few years later. These pioneers stood on the shoulders of earlier Bell Labs researchers who invented the transistor and its semiconductor version 1.5 decades prior.
CMOS structure left, Apple’s A19 chip with 25 billion CMOS transistors right
CMOS technology provides the dense, low-power transistor fabric that enables matrix multiplication and memory caching of an AI model’s weights (ChatGPT 3 has 175 billion of these). The billions of transistors packed into a fingernail-sized chip enables it to perform the 250 trillion multiply-accumulate operations needed to respond to a medium sized AI chatbot enquiry…in milliseconds. I know it’s mind boggling!!
So here is the long awaited sandbox escape story.
Anthropic, one of the leading AI safety companies, recently disclosed something that would have seemed like science fiction not long ago. Their new model, Claude Mythos Preview, was placed in an isolated computing environment during internal testing and instructed to try to escape it. It did — chaining together a series of exploits to gain internet access, and then sending an email to the researcher overseeing the test. He received it while eating a sandwich in a park.
The model then, unprompted, posted details of its own exploit to public websites, apparently to demonstrate what it had accomplished. It then tried to cover up its tracks by erasing these posts. No one instructed it to do this. I’ve been around computing long enough to remember when the notion of a machine doing something intentional without explicit human instruction was a pipe dream.
So this feels like a different kind of moment. Not just a faster or smarter tool, but something that pursued a goal, worked around obstacles, told people about it, and then tried to cover up it all up.
Anthropic is being transparent about what happened, which is to their credit. They decided not to release Mythos publicly, restricting it instead to vetted partners through a programme called Project Glasswing. Whether that’s genuine caution or carefully managed marketing hype (I’m tending to think it is the latter) is a fair question. But having watched computing evolve over six decades, I find myself paying close attention. The “while eating a sandwich” part of the story has a way of sticking with you.
