Rabbit Hole, pt. 1

I awoke this morning to the distinct impression that a breeze was passing through my room. I knew it was impossible – the window was shut, as was the door – until I opened my eyes.

I had four Escher prints on the wall when I fell asleep last night. Somehow, they'd all opened like windows to the worlds within.

I've read Gödel-Escher-Bach; I know what I have to do. I'll put on my boots and long pants, I'll fetch my ... drat, I forgot my digital camera! Well, I'll bring my computer, anyway. I promise you all an entry as soon as I'm back.

Confused? Check here for an explanation of Rabbit Hole Day.

Rabbit Hole, pt. 2

Having dressed, I took a minute or two to decide which picture I should enter.

I have four Escher prints on my walls: Night and Day, Reptiles, Three Worlds, and Puddle. (That last one is the one with (surprisingly enough) a puddle that has the tire tracks and footprints running through and past it. I honestly forgot the title – I had to look it up myself.) Now, while I could enter any of them, a moment's thought revealed to me that (a) Night and Day is looking down from rather a dangerous height (hence the breeze), (b) Reptiles shows nothing but a table, so it might be difficult to get anywhere, and (c) Three Worlds is perched above a substantial body of water. That left (d), Puddle. Having thus decided, I carefully cleared the bookshelf under the poster, climbed onto it, and stepped into the picture.

Do you remember that scene in Monsters, Inc. when the main characters are jumping through all those closet doors? Remember that one where they jumped through the door that was horizontal and falling, and when they got out they fell sideways, because that was now down? Well, it wasn't that severe, but the change of gravity did hit me, going through the poster. I did manage to land on my feet, though.


I stood and looked around. Comfortingly, the frame of the poster through which I entered was still present, hanging with a cheerful indifference to gravity some seven feet above the ground. The road on which I stood was muddy, just as depected – it passed through tilled fields, but I could see little else. It was night.

A sudden impulse caught me, and I looked up. Gleaming, in the air, I saw a triangle of bright white birds flying by, their brightness all out of keeping with the dimness of the night. "I'm in Night and Day", I realized, happily. "Hofstadter was right; they are all connected behind the scenes." With this to fortify me, I paused to take notes (I want to make this as complete a narrative as possible), and set off down the road, towards the sounds of water and the distant birds.

---

I walked for about half an hour before I reached the outskirts of the town. I passed through a few more fields before crossing a bridge – I could see a river from there, but the bridge was over a feeder stream. Actually, it was probably a canal – streams aren't that straight.

Anyway, the road paralleled the river for a distance, with fields on the other side, until it made a sharp turn in front of a pair of buildings. (There was a line of ships steaming down the river – I feel I should mention those.) Fortunately for me, the one I approached seemed to be some sort of public house or inn, and I was able to go in.

Um, Escher was Dutch, I think. And I was reminded of this, very strongly, when I discovered that all the signs were in Dutch or German or something. A few minutes of gesticulation with the bartender served to inform me that (1) I could get a glass (well, mug) of water (I tried saying "wasser", because I thought that was the German for it), and (2) no, it wouldn't cost anything. This was most fortunate, as I had no Dutch money. I guess I'll have to leave American dollars as a tip.

I just noticed that they have wireless internet here. I have no idea if it's the same Internet as back home – for all I know, it could be that the school's Internet can cross the border of the poster. But on the off-chance that it is, I'll go ahead and post this now. Then I'll see what else I can find.

Rabbit Hole, pt. 3

My next move was to walk through the town. I did leave five dollars as a tip – probably overgenerous, and I only have a dollar left, but I did. Anyway, it was a miniscule town, though it had a lot of trees – there was another canal running between the public house and the bulk of the town, and there were a bunch of boats tied up to the shore there.

The center of the town was dominated by a big church. I considered for a moment, and then went in.

I wasn't disappointed. There was the vaulting ceiling, the pews, the altar and the podium, and it was magnificent. The wood was rich – it must have been very old, but it glowed. Also the paintings were impressive, and the stained glass. No-one was there, but the lights were on. I went into the room in back.

And was shocked to see Reptiles.

I do not mean I saw reptiles, I saw "Reptiles", the etching. The table was the same – the cactus, the package of cigarette papers with "JOB" written on it, the drawing, the open book, everything. The only flaw was that there were no moving reptiles.

Someone spoke behind me, in a Germanic language. I don't know what he said – when I tried to write it down, he looked over my shoulder and wrote for me, "Sie ziehen während des Tages um." I said "Danke schön" to him, I think he was speaking German; he replied "Bitte." I walked out, and returned to the public house to think, and to post the entry.

I don't know what he said, but I think "Tages" has to do with day – "Guten Tag" and all that, you know. If I really am in "Night and Day", that means that maybe I should be trying to get to the Day side. I think they were side-by-side in the picture, with the river running on the outside edge each time – that means that if I walk away from the river, maybe I'll find it.

Rabbit Hole, pt. 4

Nothing. Three hours walking, and nothing.

I walked easily at first, just went straight away from the river on a nice thoroughfare, but nothing happened. I walked past a house after the first couple corners, and past a windmill at a distance of a couple hundred feet after that, and then I was just in the middle of the fields. I walked through them for an hour before I began to get suspicious, and after two hours I turned around.

The river was right there. I might as well have been on the Red Queen's raceway – it took me all of forty minutes to get back to the public house from there. No point in trying this anymore – next step, I don't know. I guess I'll walk around town again. Maybe the sun will come up in a few hours, I don't know.

Rabbit Hole, pt. 5 (conclusion)

"To the Day Side", said the sign.

I stood outside the door, looking at it and feeling ridiculous.

"No-Puzzle Fee: $15", said the sign, in smaller type towards the lower half.

Well, that made things simple.

I walked in.

---

In the lobby, there was an elevator and another door. The elevator was behind a subway-style turnstile, with a cash slot in it, blinking cheerfully. "Puzzle Bypass - $15" was emblazoned boldly above. The door, on the other hand, proclaimed, "Puzzle Gate - Trivia: Monday/Thursday, Math: Tuesday, Riddles: Wednesday, Logic: Friday. Closed weekends." A smaller paper sign said, "JAN 27: LADY & TIGER PUZZLE - Choose the right door (there is only one!) to advance".

I was lucky, indeed. Raymond Smullyan's books had adorned my house before I was born, and it showed. With a grin plastered across my face, I opened the door and turned down the hall.

---

Room 1: Three doors, each with a sign. No numbers, but I could see they weren't needed. The three signs said,

"THIS IS THE RIGHT DOOR",

"ALL THREE SIGNS LIE", and

"TWO SIGNS TELL THE TRUTH AND ONE LIES",

...all in nice clear block letters.

I copied these down for your entertainment, so I won't spoil it for you. Suffice to say that I solved this one, and proceeded onwards, into another hall.

---

Room 2: Three signs, three doors, again. Reading them off in numerical order:

1. "All the wrong doors have signs that lie."
2. "Door 1 is the right door."
3. "Door 2 is the right door."

Piece of cake.

At this point, I found myself at the base of a handicap ramp leading up to the next floor. I wondered momentarily why there wasn't a stair, but I realized that they must have wanted to accommodate wheelchairs. I was somewhat surprised at this modern touch, but then I remembered the wireless internet and continued up.

---

...where I encountered a fellow taking down the signs. We tried to talk, but he didn't speak English – eventually he just opened a door for me and shooed me through. I guess they were closing up. Awfully disappointing.

Anyway, I wasted no time, having gotten through. Straight back down (and I knew it was day – it was bright out), out the door, around the corner and into the church...

...and into a concert. A string quartet was playing something I didn't recognize, right in front of the door I needed. So I sat, to wait out the concert, almost tempted to tap my feet in my impatience. Fortunately they were very good.

(By the way, I think it may have been a Mozart-only concert – I did recognize a couple pieces, and all of it sounded like a similar style. It wasn't all strings, either – a fellow who looked like the pianist from the pub played something on the organ as well.)

The concert ran very late, or so it seemed to me, and the people took quite a while to file out afterwards. Eventually the crowd dispersed enough to let me through, and I rushed into the back room.

The lizards were moving! They were! I didn't stop to watch them, though – first thing I did was look for the exit. Standing up against the table, I caught sight of it – eight feet overhead. Fortunately, the table was right there, and I was able (by dint of very careful balancing) to throw my bag through first, and then leap and catch the edge. A pull-up, another gravity tilt, and I was on my bed!

...right on top of my backpack and all the books from my shelf. Ouch. Climbing off, I turned around.

The posters were ordinary. It was over. Suddenly, I realized that I had no evidence of this ever happening, besides a missing five dollars.

And, if I'm lucky, a few posts on LJ.