Beyond work
Twenty countries, a head full of mythology, a table full of board games and, lately, flowers set in resin. The same instinct that makes me pull apart an inference stack makes me chase the stories behind places and the strategy behind games.
"Travelling — it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller." — Ibn Battuta
Twenty countries and counting — from the temples of Sri Lanka to the fjord-cold lakes of Switzerland, Hollywood Empire to Vienna, the bridges of Bosnia to the beaches of Greece and Croatia. I travel for the stories a place carries, and I rarely come home without a few of my own.
Greek and Egyptian mythology are my particular obsessions — pantheons, myths, and the archaeology underneath them. My favourite travel game: visiting the real-world locations I first explored virtually in the Assassin's Creed series. Standing on the actual Acropolis after climbing its digital twin in Odyssey is a strange and wonderful kind of déjà vu — and it has quietly shaped half my travel wishlist, with Egypt near the top.
Physics and cosmology are a lifelong fascination — black holes, the speed of light, the machinery humanity builds to interrogate the universe. I've visited CERN several times, including the LHC tunnels and the data centre, and a piece of LHC data tape sits on my desk as a reminder of what computing in service of discovery looks like.
The pilgrimage extends across the Atlantic too: at Space Center Houston I touched an actual Moon rock — a few billion years of history under one fingertip — walked the exhibits from Mercury to the Shuttle era, and got a close look at the Artemis programme that's taking humanity back to the Moon. Between the LHC and Mission Control, I've now stood in both cathedrals of big science.
I host board game nights — at home and at work — and take them entirely too seriously. Catan, 7 Wonders and Ticket to Ride are the house staples, with a rotating cast of strategy games alongside. And when in doubt: chess. Any day, chess. There's a straight line between what I enjoy in games and what I enjoy in engineering — resource trade-offs, planning under uncertainty, and the occasional brutally efficient opening.
When I'm not assembling GPU clusters, I'm assembling Lego — there's something deeply satisfying about a thousand pieces becoming exactly what the box promised. My newest experiment runs the other direction entirely: dry flower resin art, where nothing is guaranteed and every pour is a small act of hope. One hobby is deterministic, the other is not. I need both.