Primate Neuroethology

In a quest to both present my research and quietly scout for a new job, I signed up for a conference in Erice (Italy). Which, in hindsight, is an absolutely terrible place to hold a conference: a medieval town perched on a hilltop in sunny Sicily. Nobody could escape my talk (the very last one of the entire conference) with a cliff dropping away on three sides, where exactly would they go? Short of base-jumping, the audience was mine!

The conference was organized by the Ettore Majorana Foundation and Centre for Scientific Culture, named after an Italian physicist born in Sicily in 1906. Every year, the Centre hosts a string of workshops spanning wildly different scientific disciplines (think nuclear physics, medicine, chemistry, the life sciences) drawing hundreds of scientists from around the world. It has a long reputation as a meeting place where researchers from completely different fields end up sharing a coffee line, mildly confused about what the other person actually does.

This June, the topic was basically everything I'm obsessed with: the neuroethology of primates. In plain terms, that means wireless neural recordings and asking more naturalistic, ecologically valid questions about some of our closest relatives. It was a perfect mix of clever new methods, serious animal welfare considerations, and (let's be honest) a parade of videos of macaques and marmosets pulling off incredible tasks, while a room full of ‘doctors’ cooed like it was a nature documentary. It's a field with real pull right now! I also got to catch up with old friends and colleagues from KU Leuven and the Parmigiani (the lab at the University of Parma), and made new connections stretching toward Lyon and Marseille.

I turned the trip into a proper Sicilian exploration. Before the conference, I wandered through Palermo's Norman churches and the brilliant white sands of Cefalù (the same beach The White Lotus made famous, minus the murder). Afterward, I crossed the island to see Catania's chaotic, smelly fish market, the Greek and Roman ruins of old Syracusa, and even hiked up Mount Etna, which spent the entire climb spitting warm fumes angrily in my general direction.

All in all: great science, a job lead or two, several near-volcanic incidents, and a sunburn that will last the rest of the year.