another day, another country

The alarm did ring at four thirty this morning heralding my day trip to another city. I was at the airport by five forty five and sitting on the plane before many sane people had managed their first coffee.

I was able to travel light though, so made up time at the other end, finally arriving at my destination by around ten fifteen - having lost an hour in the time zone process.

A rather intense working day, another airport and I'm now about to search out insurance documents ready for a short trip to France tomorrow in the car.

waterwitch

Continuing yesterday's mud theme, this morning we decided to stroll the canal towpath, although there were a surprising number of like-minded others, including the occasional traffic jam of ramblers.

We headed for the Waterwitch and sat in the garden interrupted for a few minutes with someone's 'child stuck in tree' interlude.

The sun shone, and it was enjoyable to roam without driven purpose. That can wait for tomorrow, when I start at 04:30. I have already set the alarm.

no panic in the woods

A lazy morning, followed by a splendid, if rather large, lunch at the Leather Bottle.

Luckily we had a good plan to burn a few calories in the woods in the afternoon, although it became a rather muddy experience.

We managed to scramble over a few fallen trees and past miscellaneous wildlife including the ponies and a rather suspicious looking fuzzy brown sheep.

I may have just glimpsed Pan this time, although I'm sure I'll get a better look when we visit the Barbican

it's breakfast, but not as we know it

Sometimes its best to just ease into the day. The first cupcakes of Spring show early positive signs of a turnaround in fortunes.

concentric exit pattern

When I exit a hotel or similar, I have a sort of concentric circles thing going on. Its about where my stuff is placed. The circles have to originate from near to the door and I gradually move things further in, so that I know I won't leave anything behind.

I guess I pulled out of this foreign city before Easter in a similar way, getting stuff into a wheely bag and some carry-on into a back-pack. Then down to the lobby where I dropped the big bag with the concierge whilst I took the back-pack to a cafe for one last meeting and phone conference. With latte.

Afterwards, I also stashed my backpack at this new point of origin and used the spare time to head for the cobbled streets and down to the harbour. The next boat, was in 12 minutes, so I decided to while some time on the water instead of in an airport lounge.

Just time for a circuit past the Opera House before heading back through busy streets. collecting luggage and declining a taxi to instead do what the locals do and take the train back to the airport.

I'll be back there on Tuesday.

bookshop

A few spare minutes to wander the streets before heading for the airport.

Instead of the gleaming shops, I quite like wandering through some of the less pristine parts of town, which are also quite close to where I'm staying. Kind of turn right and keep going for 300 metres and this area is part of the neighbourhood.

Above is another of the local bookshops, and if you feel like buying a CD or vinyl, then I can recommend the place below.

coffee time at the bookshop

A few moments in cafe society today at the nearby bookshop, where I've bought a latte and sit watching the world go by.

In a short time I'll be back reviewing documents and participating in international phone conferences, but for now its quite pleasant to have a few minutes of 'me time' sipping coffee, smiling back to the pleasant waitress and enjoy observing the mainly holiday minded locals go about their shopping.

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flttr - th nw twttr

nano nano

my temporary city has already gone away for easter vacation

I was one of about 5 people taking breakfast in the normally bustling cafe today. When I grabbed a cab, the driver said he'd been watching a movie for the last 45 minutes and drinking a coffee.

The whole place has already gone on vacation for Easter.

I suspect I am one of a handful still working in this city. Empty streets at what would normally be peak rush-hour. Just bicycles where there would usually be lines of stationary cars.

Something of a contrast from the flurry of people around even the gas-mask stall in London's Portobello Market last Saturday.

breakfast start for a suppertime meeting with a lack of gasoline

I'd arranged to meet two people for supper this evening, but it meant starting the preparations at around breakfast time because of the location. They were both travelling to the rendezvous and all three of us will be in different countries tomorrow.

In my case, I had to leave for the airport at 10am, arrive back at the Temporary Apartment by mid afternoon and then meet in a bar before we headed to the restaurant.

It all went to plan until much later when we needed to refill the Plymouth Voyager with gasoline (its American so you can't fill it with petrol).

First we couldn't find anyone local in the restaurant who knew where the petrol stations were located, but then when we did it was a drive almost out of town, on the remaining 6kms of fuel according to the readout.

The first petrol station was a deserted automat and wouldn't take any of our credit cards.

The second one was also an automat but encouragingly there were others filling their cars. Less luck with us, as we tried three cards (all foreign) and then used my remaining few bills of local currency.

In the process we had to drive the unwieldy vehicle to two different pumps and face a stand-off from a local who tried to jump the queue. And the accompanying sounds of a Winnie the Pooh story booming from the van didn't exactly help.

everything's great down at notting hill gate

Portobello market this afternoon and a movie at the Electric.

It was "The Boat that Rocked" describing the UK 'swinging sixties' Pirate Radio stations.

Something of an ensemble piece, with pop music reminiscences and rather cartoonish portrayals of the disk jockeys as well as the introduction of a surprisingly 2009 emo character for a way of signposting what was happening.

The boat which was supposed to be moored in International Waters just off of the British coastline as a thinly disguised Radio Caroline or Radio London.

I'll describe it as a film with a few smiles rather than any elaborate plot or big message.

Intended as a celebration of the era and with a Notting Hill/Four Weddings type cast, so I suppose I was seeing it in the right cinema.

Of course the Electric is something of an institution itself, with its leather armchairs and footstools so you can really lay down to watch the movie (unless you watch it from one of the leather covered beds, of course).

And I still smile when I watch the reminder about switching off *ahem* electrical gadgets before the film starts and the innovative use of a popcorn holder (don't ask).

man saves world?

It's amazing how the odd Trillion can help change one's fortunes. Take Gordon, once a down at heel politician with an aptitude for making mistakes. His blackened pen had could turn anything from value into something worthless.

But now, by chatting with a few of his big car owning distant acquaintances against a backdrop of highly coloured flags it looks as if he has moved to a lighter side.

Simply adding a Trillion of Wonga to heal the broken global promises of rampant financiers seems to have curbed the speculation of his replacement.

Only a week ago everyone was wondering if Harriett Harmon was about to step forward as a leader in waiting, but now the alleged Anglo-Saxon banking malaise has been cured at a single stroke.

As they scrub the graffitti from the walls of our good Lady of Threadneedle Street and we marvel at the more imaginitive protests, perhaps we are supposed to wonder what all the fuss was about.

...Or maybe I've been away too long?