I wake up at seven, feeling 100% better than I did the morning before, ready for a day at the coalface. Although, in truth, I have not seen the coalface in quite some time!
I look out the window and see everything is white with the most wonderful hoar frost. However, it might look beautiful, driving would be interesting to say the least. So, I get ready, head down for breakfast, then have the task of clearing all the windows and hoping the car would be warm. For the week I have a compact Mitsubishi, which is OK, if a little noisy and thirst. It warms up quick, and off we go into the peak of the rush hour traffic. And it is heavy, taking me 20 minutes to get to the office, but I am kept warm.
The day passes with yet more meetings, updates and the usual office rumours. Your typical day, then. Outside the sun shines, very low in the sky, casting long shadows across the open plan office. Would have been a good day to be outside, walking.
By the time I leave the office at five, it has been dark for an hour, traffic has eased off and so the drive to the hotel is easy, except at intersections where you have to be careful of mad cyclists. Not you Tony. At least at the main junction, they have their own signal, so we don’t have to dodge them as we turn.
I have dinner at six, burger as usual, then back upstairs to fire off some mails before the football starts. Liverpool have to win to qualify for the knockout stages, but then this is a different team from the exciting on with Suarez up front. Lacking bite you might say. They never looked good enough, and go one down mid way through the first half. Stevie Gee scores with a free kick five minutes from time, but it is too little too late, and so they get to play on Thursday nights again.
Wednesday.
A day of meetings.
Or meeting.
I pack and check out of the hotel, drive to the office in light rain this time. Easier than the frost of 24 hours before. I have a meeting room booked, so I set it up, get the projector, coffee, breakfast rolls. And all is set in plenty of time. I really am feeling at home these days.
The meeting goes well, and we wrap up just after three, as my guests have a flight to catch. I have some work to catch up on, fire yet more mails off. Then it is time for me to head to the airport. Not that I am flying tonight, I have a room at the Zleep, and a flight in the morning.
Traffic is nose to tail out of the city, and it takes me half an hour to get to the motorway as we creep along the main road.
It is raining hard, so I stay behind a line of trucks on the motorway, travelling no faster than 80kmh, but then I am in no hurry. I am glad to get to the airport, I check in, dump my luggage, then drop the car off and head to the café for dinner, which is burger yet again. At least I can say there is so little choice here.
I have yet more mails to fire off, but by eight I am all caught up and am ready for some football. Though despite being a game between two great teams, with little at steak, it does not hold my attention. Barca and PSG trade blows, but it is Barca, at home, who run out 3-1 winners, whilst in Mancunia, Citeh beat Roma to progress after all.
I go to bed to the sound of taxiing aircraft outside, but the earplugs deaden the sound, and I am soon asleep.
2 comments:
You did a very good "save" when you "dissed" the crazy or was it mad cyclists a few paragraphs back - well saved indeed! I smiled at your description of them, them smiled even more when I read your next comment ... and, dis away as much as you like, I won't be offended.
Tony, at a four way intersection, when the light is green and you, me, want to turn right, pedestrians and cyclists going straight on have priority over traffic turning right. Quite sensible really, but very different from Britain, and I have to concentrate more when I am driving over there.
This main junction, we turning left have a separate signal, so we don't have to look out for those going straight on. Easy peasy.
For the most part, cyclists are not mad. Certainly not you, Tony!
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