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Saturday
Arrive in San Diego appropriately jetlagged after 16 hour journey. Another
one of those “good news ... bad news” scenarios. The good news: an upgrade
to business class on the transatlantic leg— only my second upgrade in 25-odd
years of air travel. The bad news: on arrival in Atlanta, rumours of shoe
X-rays, strip searches and four hour lines at the airport prove only
slightly exaggerated.
After 90 min wait at Immigration miss connecting flight to San Diego and
arrive cursing three hours late. (It could have been worse, though. I later
find out about a Manchester colleague who found the US visa procedure so
convoluted and time-consuming that, when it emerged the only way to get a
visa would be to turn up at the US Embassy in London at 7 a.m. and stand in
a five hour queue, he simply gave up. The whole thing makes me rather
doubtful about ‘biometric passports’ and ID cards, but that’s another
story).
Sunday
Emerge jet-lagged and struggle down to registration. I did mean to get here
for the 8 am talks (honestly), but by the time I have navigated my way
around the conference centre a couple of times to reach registration,
abstract book collection etc. etc. I find my first talk is in David
Sheppard’s 10.30 a.m. session on “The Molecular Basis of Epithelial
Disease.” As with all the sessions I check out during the meeting, the talks
are nicely presented and well-attended. Pity a few more Brits hadn’t made
the effort to be here, though.
Sunday evening meal out with some friends from my LA days—a curry. Eating
out in Southern California has a lot of good points, including restaurants
with terraces overlooking the sea and the climate to make use of them, but
they still don’t seem to have got the hang of cooking a really decent curry.
When it comes to chicken Dhansak, South Manchester beats Southern California
every time.
Monday
Browse round the poster session. San Diego’s evening attractions have been
keeping some of the delegates busy and a few look pretty shaky today. One
colleague (name deleted in return for a mixed case of wine) appears late,
looking particularly pale. He defends himself by claiming his attendance is,
in fact, an example of heroic endurance—apparently the people he was
partying with last night haven’t made it to present their posters at all.
Score one for the British constitution. No, not that British constitution,
the other one.
At the coffee break, a friend who has been meeting non-science acquaintances
in San Diego tells me he has witnessed a key West Coast ritual—‘waiting for
the green flash’. To experience this, you stand on the beach staring out to
the Pacific and watch the sun go right down. The idea is that, as it dips
completely below the horizon, the last sunlight is shining through water to
reach the observer and it looks like a flash of green light. My informant
swears there were several dozen people standing waiting, many of whom were
veteran flash-watchers, and insists he heard one surfer type say: “Totally
awesome flash, dude.” Decide he has been watching too many episodes of The
OC.
For someone who spent two years in LA as a postdoc in the 1980s, and has
holidayed in California several times, this surprisingly is my first visit
to San Diego. To be honest, no one in LA ever mentioned the place: San
Francisco, Yosemite, Death Valley, King’s Canyon, Monterey… but never San
Diego! My first impressions are that, while maybe not the most exciting
place in the world, it is well-appointed for a large conference: excellent
conference center, plenty of bars, restaurants and hotels all within walking
distance, and a wonderful climate.
San Diego also seems to celebrate its Spanish/Mexican heritage more than LA
although, of course, parts of LA are heavily Spanish-influenced. I
particularly remember going to the wedding of an English friend of mine
called Nigel in Downtown LA in the 80s, where the official in charge
insisted on calling him “Miguel” throughout the ceremony! Although, on
reflection, that tells you more about how few Nigels there are in the US
than about anything else. Anyway, the Mexican-American cuisine here is first
rate, and I sample it a couple of times during the meeting.
Tuesday
The day of the symposium I am coorganising. Have never quite figured out the
etiquette of being a symposium organiser. The million dollar question: to be
a speaker—or not to be? I was always taught not to invite myself to speak,
on the basis that it makes you look self-important. On the other hand, a
former Head of Department of mine once told me firmly that I was a fool NOT
to be a speaker in any symposium I was organising. ‘Get those b*!*dy Esteem
Indicators stacked up,’ he said. ‘If you don’t think you’re good enough, who
the *!!* else will?’ Have reached a personal compromise solution—speaker
last time I was organiser, chairman (but not speaker) this time.
The symposium draws a decent audience of around 60 or so—not bad for the
final day of a meeting. Having missed a big chunk of the meeting it is
difficult to say what the highlights were, but I get the feeling that the
organisers have saved the best for last: The Journal of Physiology sponsored
session on TRP channels on Tuesday afternoon is excellent for the most part:
innovative sciences with well-paced and witty presentations.
Wednesday
Take-off at lunchtime. Have been here
exactly 88 hours. Since the journey out here took 16 hours, and the journey
back will be another 12, this means a stay-to-transit time ratio of 3.14.
Shouldn’t complain about this, though— my choice.
Like most people, I used to take more extended conference trips when I was
in my 20s and early 30s, with no family to get back to and a budget that
didn’t stretch to long-haul holidays other than ones that were
“conference-assisted.” But these last few years 4-5 days is my usual limit.
There is a tricky balancing act to accomplish here, though. I remember
sniggering at one (now ex-) Manchester professor who told me he flew
annually to Florida for only two days for a high-powered American meeting
and had mastered the routine. “I’ve figured out how to beat the jet-lag,” he
said. ‘What I do is stay in the lecture theatres all day, never go out in
the daylight, and go to bed straight after supper. That way I can stay on UK
time and never start to adapt. And it means I wake up at 4 a.m. so I have
lots of time to read the abstract book.” I tell myself that, as long as my
stay-to-transit time ratio never gets below 2.0, I can keep believing I
haven’t reached that point.
The flight home gives time to reflect on some general points about the
meeting—all positive. The organisation was good, as was the science. I don’t
usually like huge meetings, but any fears that IUPS would be swamped by
Experimental Biology/FASEB failed to materialize. If anything, IUPS seemed
to be swamping EB! Finally, it was great to see that many of the “Big
Players” in structure-function have returned to their physiological roots
and want to study the function of proteins in real cells/organs/animals.
Thursday
9 am Manchester time—touch-down. Good to be home, though the drizzle
provokes a slight lingering hankeringfor California sun! May see you in
Kyoto for IUPS 2009
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