Franco Manca (London)

Let me explain how work meetings work. It all starts, how else, with a meeting. It's usually one of the long ones, unnecessarily scheduled, full of people that are not sure why they got the invite in the first place. But they come all the same, pull out an A4 notepad, assume an important face and pretend to understand everything that is being said. The reality is different though and EVERYONE is thinking something like “what the hell DFST stands for, must be something like Digital Factorial Superimposing Trihydrate? I am hungry. Oh I would kill for a burger. ”

“John, what is your opinion on the DFST proposal?”

Now we have a problem. At least, John has a problem. For one, he really wants a burger. But also he has to say something, breaking his pleasant daydreaming and entering the reality. Luckily, there’s certain words one can say in any meeting, going along these lines:

“Yeah, I mean, DFST is interesting, although I believe we didn't explore the topic properly and should hear from GSTR on the subject. I’d personally be in favour of going ahead with your proposal Nick, but I’d reckon we should discuss this more thoroughly”

Nick flinches, as he has no idea what GSTR means and is unwilling to admit that in front of all the sharp looking faces, deep frowns and intelligent remarks. Thus he only admits:

“That’s a good point John, I will follow up on this and schedule another meeting, so that we flesh this out a bit more. We might need a whole stadium though, if we need all folks from GSTR there, HAHA!” making an attempt at a joke, but almost breaking down from all the uncertainty of what the hell he was saying.

Everyone laughs nervously suddenly, also breaking their respective day dreamings, unsure how much it is appropriate to laugh at the size of GSTR. Things are eventually slowly wrapped up, everyone taps John on the back for such a smart resolution of the 2 hour deadlocked horror and John finally goes for a burger. And day or two later, an invite for a new 2 hour meeting with the whole GSTR is sent around, with a vague agenda of:
- Introductions

- Discussing DFST
- GSTR point of view
- Any other business

And that’s how meetings work. (Btw, conferences are not very different. As Martin said: "conferences are the places where everyone sits quietly and thinks of what they're going to say when it's their turn". But let's talk about that next time).

So on 12th of June, me and Nigel went to London for a meeting. Luckily, though, this was one of the exceptions to the recipe defined above. The meeting was relaxed, relevant for us all, the right size and length. A true weirdo amongst meetings population, indeed. So that's a reason why I felt like the trip was worth it. But, just perhaps, was there another reason as well?




We entered Franco Manca pizzeria by Victoria station just before 1pm, for a late lunch. The place was one of the new breed of hipsterish pizzerias, very comparable to the recent visit to Peasano’s in Glasgow. In short, these places offer nice modern open space, few solid choices with options to customize and a quick, simple service. Tables are packed close together so you get to hear neighbouring conversations as if having a family dinner. And finally, prices are surprisingly affordable. Not much more to say, but what else do you need? Low fares, made simple. But more legroom than in Ryanair!




I opted for two pizzas, as I was quite hungry - a number 4 with wild mushrooms and a "old spot ham" and a pure Marinara, as is the habit on my recent pizza hunts. Nigel chose a Margherita. Just about 10 minutes later, the three beauties filled our little table and being surrounded by other tables from each side, it felt a bit packed, almost claustrophobic. But they DID look stunning! Don't you think?

We dived in as we were a bit short on time. Also, conversation was a bit difficult in the rather noisy lunchtime atmosphere (and proximity of other tables). First impressions were very good. The n4 had a nice combination of tastes and even the crust, kind of Neapolitan style, had a much more distinctive taste than the one from Glasgow. The bottom was perhaps a tad burned for my taste, but overall this was a very good pizza. The Marinara was similarly pleasant experience, although I found the sauce a bit bitter and not as incredibly enjoyable as I expected. A well worth “desert” all the same and I was not feeling overloaded, neither hungry till I came home 6 hours later (if you know me, 6 hours w/o food feels like a century).

Later on, writing the post in the train, I realized I don't have an opinion of co-hunter Nigel. But thanks to advances to modern technologies of instant messaging services, I managed to attain the following, very professional statement, I must say!

"I guess some people might argue that this is not 'real pizza but I can't really fault it. The dough was soft but the base was still scorched nicely. The tomato, basil and mozzarella topping was fresh. The service was efficient and the price was cheap especially by London standards. The restaurant itself maybe lacked ambiance - it didn't feel very Italian. Still I would go back if I was in the area."

All in all, ladies and gents, although still far from top places of my pizza hunt list, one thing can be said for certain: if you're hungry and are somewhere round Victoria, you will not go wrong with Franco Manca's.

So next time you’re there, perhaps after that long DFST meeting with GSTR, you know where to go ;-)

Dough - 7
Ingredients - 8
Sauce - 7
Atmosphere - 7
Service - 7

Peasano (Glasgow)

Midgets. Midgets everywhere. In the bushes, in the tent, or in the car. You need to open all doors at full speed to get rid of them. They find you wherever you are and they bite you on any exposed spot. Ooooh, why, oh why?

Ok, the grammar nazis amongst you dear readers have by now already posted a comment: it's midges, not midgets! But Jani, Feri and Cris made the mistake a couple times and by the time I explained the difference to them it was too late, and a vision of midgets appearing from behind the bushes to bite us was engraved in our minds.

Aah, highland Caledonia. Such a beautiful place. Why was this plague sent down on you? Is this just a government plan to prevent too many people from camping in the pristine Scottish nature? Well, if it is, do know, dear Scottish government, that it did not stop us! Cause we are strong. We are brave. And we naively thought the repellents will work.

Red Red. Yummy

I took a looooong bus ride to Glasgow on Sunday. The weather was too good to be true and at times I wondered if I got on a wrong bus to Croatia. The "welcome to Scotland" sign came to rescue my doubts and soon I got off to a sunny and sweltering evening in Glasgow.

I ploughed my way directly against the sun to the west, going to meet Sofi, a former student from AIMS, who used to call me "tutor Fero" while I was tutoring at AIMS. Since then, however, Sofi did the tutoring at AIMS herself and started a PhD in Glasgow, involving even more tutoring and teaching. Thus suddenly, I found myself listening to her explaining algorithms she used for her research, with the roles exchanged! Fero, time to get back to some studying!

With Sofi

Other than excellent Red Red that Sofi cooked, I was thankfully inspired by the enthusiasm of this young lady who seems to be living the life to the fullest, not sparing a drop of her potential. A true epitome of the fact that if the right stars align, you get the support you need and you are passionate about what you do, you become an unstoppable train of energy. Keep going Sofi!

The next day morning I hopped on the CityLink bus towards Isle of Skye. Weather was stunning, driver in a good mood ("I have some sickness bags if you want, but they cut the bottom off") and scenery breathtaking. I got off in Fort William and soon greeted the rest of the crew, so that we meet the detailed plan for the next 5 days, which looked something like this:
- go to the Isle of Skye
- survive for 5 days
- get back to Glasgow on Friday

As you can see, we had loads on the todo list, but despite that were forced to improvise a bit, usually in situations when we all entered the car, shut the door, started the engine and Jani (driving) inevitably asked "so now what".

Not only we had a full schedule, the car was also tested to its limits and when I wanted to speak to Feri, the barrier of baggage in between us made it almost more personal to send him a text message. Despite that, we managed meaningful conversations, usually about midges.


The first night, we found a beautiful place to sleep, few miles away from Kyle of Lochalsh, still on the mainland. The most picturesque little lake, small beach just enough for our tents and bit of firewood in the near forest. However, we were not the only ones who liked the place. For as soon as the fire died out, the reality, and millions of midges, settled in. In a race to get into tents relatively midge-free we somewhat won, but the prospect of a nightly use of facilities was looming ahead, worrying me even more than when we were camping in Canada and we had a bear somewhere round the tent. I will spare you of the details though. Let's just say that you want a windy place for camping, or else midges will eat you alive.

Beautiful place for camping (till the dusk, when the midges came from behind the bushes!)

But not too windy! Following the train of thoughts of "better hurricanes than midges", we slept by Niest point lighthouse the next day and by Duntulm castle the day after. Both are completely stunning venues for sunsets with postcard-like views and gentle breeze for the evening to sweep off the little annoyances. However, as soon as we tucked in the sleeping bags, the innocent breeze turned into a wild beast trying to lift us off the ground and sweep too, into the sea, as if hoovering and cleaning the sheep-grazed pastures of the (often dirty and smelly) campers (for more info on our hygiene, keep reading)

Niest point lighthouse

Jani and Cris taking pictures, also at Niest point lighthouse

By Duntulm castle

By Duntulm castle

Frisbee session after sunset, on the field just below Duntulm castle

Sunset by Duntulm castle

The second of the two windy nights especially, the tents were put to test for a couple of sleepless hours, when the whole tent shook like crazy and bended one way under the pressure of the strong winds. Me and Feri eventually made it through the night with just a single torn strap on the tent and sleepy eyes. Jani and Cris were less lucky and had a hole in the tent, after one of the backbone construction pipes broke and torn the fabric (unexpected from MSR!). Thus the last night, we opted for wind-less midge-swarming spot again, though this time equipped with some more repellents and nets on our heads, which made us look like we want to rob a bank.

Cris in the Fairy pool

Days were almost exclusively filled with clear skies and little wind. This subconsciously drew us closer to water and we gradually visited several truly magical places. Tuesday, we found a relatively unknown coral beach by Plockton. A very quiet place with just a handful of tourists and an inviting, yet cold water in the sea. An old couple was jumping in from the rocks nearby and I thought "that's what I want to be doing when I'm 65". Mind you they had wetsuits, but still, we were inspired and did a bit of refreshing team building ourselves.

On the same day, we visited the much more known Fairy pools - a series of waterfalls and the little deep pools below them, forming basically a canyoning track. After days of sun with 26 degrees, the water was perfect and the waterfall pool we found was a priceless oasis, offering excellent jumping points from the rocks around into the seemingly bottomless waters. For once I felt like Bear Grylls, although compared to me, he usually jumps from higher bases, makes a proper back-flip, and eats juicy worms.

Exploring the Fairy pools

Coral beach by Plockton

On Wednesday we lingered around the Niest point lighthouse and later hiked the highly recommended Old man of Storr hike north of Portree, before finding another pool with waterfalls just off the road by Uig.

The waterfall pool by Uig

Finally, on Thursday we aimed southeast again and decided for something to finish us off - a hike to Bla Bheinn, with close to 1000 metres of ascent. The views were fully worth it though, and so was yet another cool waterfall pool at the end of the hike.

It is interesting to see how days of camping and hiking change your perspective on life. If you haven't tried it yet, I highly recommend to get out there for a few days. Worries are left behind. Things like "where do we sleep", "where are all the damn bird who eat midges", or "does someone have an extra pack of Pombears" start to dominate your mind. Thoughts are coming in, such as "why is linear regression important anyway, I just want to wash", making you rethink and tidy up your mind and the priorities of life. Conversations inevitably turn to the socially less acceptable topics, you start to speak in the Scottish accent (or in Feri's case, you sound like you are from Mumbai) and you start attracting looks from the passing by cars at the local superstore, as if they never saw someone take 4 parking places to dry their tents, cook chilli con carne on the curb or prep salmon sandwiches in the shopping trolley!

Hobo style! Boom like that!

Cipolla al pomodorro de salsiccia il riso con fagiolo  (things just sound better in Italian)

There's some proper mountains on Isle of Skye . View from Bla Bheinn

We started to head back on Friday morning, taking the ferry from Armadale to Mallaig. Forecast boards around Fort William showed just how lucky we were with the weather, with warnings of heavy rain coming only once we're gone from the Highlands. Even back in Glasgow the rain somehow missed us and only now that I write this blog in a bus to Cardiff, there's grey skies and rain behind the windows.

In Glasgow, we encountered again the true civilisation with hundreds of people milling around the streets, shopping and hurrying about their business. Even more drastic was the sudden absence of midges - our daily companions, points of conversation and jokes for the past days have suddenly been gone. We could almost say it was a sad moment, but then we entered Paesano and all the tears were gone.

This place tops the list of pizzerias in Glasgow on Trip Advisor and already entering inside hinted at reasons why. The large open space, modern (almost hipsterish) interior, filled with wooden benches and tables, packed with customers, staff flying around and delivering the hot smoldering pizzas from the two wood fired ovens... Atmosphere scoring straightaway!

Menu was also very promising. Only 10 choices, VERY reasonably priced (5-8 gbp), cutting down on heavy decision making, yet offering ways to upgrade your own pizza with a list of extras. We all went for a different option. I decided for a red pepper, spinach and ricotta combo + shared a pure Marinara with Jani. Order was taken and our choice scribbled on the menus in front of us, which I thought a bit unnecessary and not much environmentally friendly. The waiting has begun though. and one could see the excitement, impatience and hunger on our faces, demonstrated clearly by the following pictures.




The place claims to be doing traditional Neapolitan pizzas. This means super hot temperature and cooking just around 90 seconds. Thus despite the large number of customers, the 5 beautifully looking circles landed in front of us after just around 10 minutes. And they looked SPLENDID!

We dived in and soon silence settled as everyone was enjoying the experience. Or enjoying really? Ok, real Neapolitan pizza is not my most favorite type as I prefer the crispier crust, but even despite that, I felt the pizzas lacked something. For one, the bottom was slightly burned on few of the pizzas, which was especially notable when one munched on the pure crust. The taste of the dough, I found, was simply a bit uninspiring. Similarly, some of the ingredients, such as the pepper or mushrooms seemed to be a bit tasteless, possibly lacking some seasoning. Mushrooms and spinach would also deserve a bit more moisture and it felt as if they were just thrown on the top with little thought. Adding garlic oil or chili oil might do the job but these are either not provided or were simply not offered by the waitress.

On the other hand, the sauce was very satisfying and thus my favorite became the pure marinara, with a nice rich tomato flavour and a touch of garlic. And despite the critique above and me not being that much hungry, we finished them all, without a heavy feeling on the stomach afterwards. Others seemed to share my thoughts and commented "good, but definitely not the best" or simply expressed their feelings on a picture.

Overall, I must say expected a bit more from the pizzas themselves. All the other ingredients of a successful pizza hunt were, however, fully present: the vibrant atmosphere, great company (I did mention it, Jani!:P), friendly and helpful staff, and all for a deal well worth it. So when couple travellers asked me later on in the hostel I stayed in during last night "what would I recommend in Glasgow", I confidently replied "Paesano pizzeria". Yep, if I lived here, I would be a regular.

It was, however, time to say goodbye to my fellow travelers and soon goodbye to Scotland. And somehow, I found it a nostalgic moment, as in that short time, I really came to like Scotland. It just really feels like a completely different country from the rest of UK. People seem somewhat more friendly and down to earth, joking in their Scottish accent, the nature is beautiful, lush and often quite untouched, and in general there's a certain character to the country that just makes the place worth to visit. It's perhaps hard to say after a week, but that makes it a good reason to come back. Perhaps in the winter for some alpine skiing, when the midges sleep :-)

Dough - 5 (mind you, I am not fan of Neapolitan style!)
Ingredients - 6
Sauce - 9
Atmosphere - 9
Service - 8