Over There

For the moment this blog has moved to http://spreadingthesewings.wordpress.com This is simply to enable publicising to Facebook. Should Blogger find a way to do this automatically then I may come back here. Otherwise, I'll see you over there.

So Near and Yet ......

With the new job there are going to be a lot of new leanings. Suddenly becoming more travelled is going to be part of this.

Two days after starting, I will be heading for China. Having never been there then this is an interesting experience. I have to think about things I haven't done before. One of those is getting a visa. A bit of planning but I am relatively intelligent, I should be able to cope. And being a proverbial Sherlock when it comes to investigating on the internet I am soon in the right place. I find the online form and fill it in. Where I don't have the right information then I know who to ask for it. Soon I have it completed. I am fascinated when I preview it and find things have been changed into Chinese. This is cool. I make my appointment at the application centre and I am set.

Today down to London to my appointment. I spent last night making sure I had the right forms, the official invitation, the photos, my passport. All there to pick up this morning. Set off early, which is a good idea as the snow has meant a problem with the train. Even so I get to London with plenty of time and am standing in front of the centre with enough leaway that I can get a coffee at Costa AND find a geocache.

Returning to the centre, I enter. I get my ticket. I while away the minutes by listening to a man shouting down te phone at someone in china because the rules for the visa have changed and he needs a letter. I feel smug, confident that I have everything. My r is called, I walk to my window, hand over my documents with a smile and "hope it's all there". The nice friendly woman starts going through it. Ahe marks off the boxes ad she checks them Tick, tick, tick .... Oh I'm doing well. Last document. Tick, tick, tick. Hesitation. Check passport. Check application. Recheck invitation. Red circle. No no no, that's supposed to be a tick. Red circle can't be good can it.

Turns out that the invitation has a slight error on it. I didn't notice one digit missing from my birth date. It's clear to see what's happened, where there should be two digits there is only one. A transcription error. Possibly not a disaster. It might be accepted. But I now have to wait over the weekend to find out. In the meantime I'm going to get a corrected invite just in case and print off all the other documents again.

Smuggling

The previous blog describes the trials and tribulations of getting a flight to Edinburgh. A part of this includes the problem of fluids, neatly solved by the aid of a blond.

Imagine my surprise then when I unpacked last night. And there at the bottom of my case was a small plastic bag just perfect for taking fluids through security. How do I know it was perfect? Because I had obviously used it before. Obviously because a bottle of aftershave was still in it. I'm still trying to work out how they didn't pick it up in the scanner as the bag went through. Just glad I didn't get strip searched.

What Goes Up Must Come Down..

or in the case of Anglian Conservatories, what goes up must start to fall down after a period of 6 years and then we will let the house owners complain for approximately 8 months until they start to get threatening at which we will delay for just long enough until the snow is due and then knock it down and leave them with a big hole in the ground, cats stuck in a cattery, and no easy access to the washing machine!

Hmm.

Not having a good time with this at the moment.  The middle of last year we noticed that the floor was a good inch below where it should be in our conservatory and that there were gaps to the outside world around the door.  This didn't look good.  The conservatory was still under guarantee so we called Anglian.  Who sent someone.  Who said, "oh yes, that's not right, I'll have to get someone else to look".  Who finally came out after a couple of weeks and said, "oh yes, that's not right, I'll have to get someone else to look!".  After trying to blame nearby trees and the flower beds they finally got someone to drill an inspection hole.  Hey presto, the foundations weren't dug properly.  Months of haranguing finally lead to me telling them in no uncertain terms that if my daughter got injured by falling glass then I would unleash the wrath of hell on them.  They agreed they had better rebuild!  I sent them a nice email pointing out that our cats would have to go into a cattery so we needed warning of dates and that I expected them to pay.  No reply to the email, but instead a phone call saying that they were coming the next day!  Luckily a friendly local cattery helped and the cats were dispatched.

Builders turned up and made a comment about this happening a lot around here, clearly a dodgy set of builders a number of years ago.  They proceeded to demolish the conservatory and did a good job.  The foundations are now twice as deep as they were previously.  Problem is that the weather has turned for the bad so work has halted.  And the cats are still at the cattery.  Oh great! 

Shh, It's a Secret

We've been in London for a couple if days for a management team meeting. The question is always what to do in the evening as a team "experience". Last time we were in London we went to Dans La Noir (or something like that, the restaurant in the dark anyway). This time we got tickets for Secret Restaurant, an off-shoot of Secret Cinema. I can't really tell you much about it because then it wouldn't be secret, but the whole concept is wonderful. The company take over a warehouse and do it up to recreate scenes from a film. They then have loads of actors dressed up and acting in character. You have a couple of hours to experience all of this and soak up the atmosphere and then they show the film. It was all absolutely excellent and mesmerising. The actors do a great job and stay in character throughout, even if you're asking directions to the toilet! If you get the chance I recommend it.

Ready or not here we go

We've been loaded onto the plane at Birmingham. We're waiting to depart for Dusseldorf. But the plane isn't moving. Suddenly the pilot comes on the tannoy "our apologies, there seems to be a problem with the planes computers. It might go dark for a moment because we are going to turn the plane off and then restart it, just as you do with your computer at home if it isn't working".

Hmm. Is it just me or does anyone else think this isn't the most reassuring start to a flight!

What's That

I've recently said to a few people that I am not a completer-finisher. One reflection that isn't entirely true. I do finish what I start. I do like to see something to an end. The issue is more that having finished something then I don't enjoy doing it again. Once I have done something then it gets packaged into a little box, neatly wrapped up, and packed away into the storage area of my brain.

It's less to do with not being a completer-finisher and more to do with a constant desire to learn. What I really enjoy is being challenged. I look for something new that will push me a bit further. That at the end means I will have new knowledge or new skills. It reflects in my work and my social life.

In the words of Jed Bartlett "what's next" Or possibly I'm just easily distracted. Oooo, shiny..........

A Morning Stroll

I'm in the Netherlands for an antibiotics conference (I know, such an exciting life). Having had breakfast and registered I found I had a few hours to kill before the conference started. I have my camera, we are by the sea, maybe some photos then. Oh, and two miles along the coast there is a geocache. Two birds, one stone etc.

I leave the hotel and wander down to the coast. Hmm. Can't actually see the sea with this fog still lying everywhere. Never mind. This coastal path heads the right direction so I will just follow that. Or at least follow it for all of 0.3 miles at which point it reaches an end
And barbed wire. OK. Not yet beaten I head down onto the beach itself. I haven't really got the right shoes but never mind. The fog is not great for photography but I have an idea of a
Tryptych I'd like to do and it is still possible. I'm now aware that I am walking along a beach in an area I don't know but I'm not stupid, I ensure the breadcrumb mode is turned on with the GPS (a clever innovation that traces your route as you walk so you can double back at any time).

I walk along, keeping my eye open for photos. Every so often I check the gos to see how far it is to the cache. At half a mile away I start to worry. I thought the cache was on the coast like but it is beginning to look as though it is in the dunes. This could be a problem. Most of the dunes are "FORBODDEN". I now remember reading another cache description around here which comments on the network of paths and how you have to stick with them. I get to within 0.37 miles of the cache but am again faced with barbed wire. Bother. Oh well. Time to head back to the hotel.

Now, you remember a paragraph ago when I said I wasn't stupid? Yes. Well this was the point where the GPS went beep and the screen went blank. The batteries had died and I didn't have replacements.

I will leave it to you to decide if I finally did find my way back to the hotel and am writing this with a cup of coffee in hand or whether I am still out in the dunes somewhere and with my last dying breath before the hypothermia gets me updating my blog for posterity.

Hellfire

I flew into Schipol airport last night and have to say it was an incredibly surreal experience. I fly quite often with work and am used to a lot of sights. For me, looking down in clouds will never lose its thrill, the beauty of the unadulterated peaks and troughs of snow white take my breath away. But last night was something different. As we approached Amsterdam there was a fog lying over the city. It was night time but the fog was thick enough that you couldn't see the buildings below. What you could see however was a patchwork of glowing areas where the buildings below were lighting the fog. Red mists swirled in angry winds. It was as though the land itself was burning, a desolate landscape with fires where an army had marched and razed the cities, scorched the earth. For a moment I was looking on the destruction of mankind.

How To Inspire

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Go For It

Cat Playing I-Spy

Dreamtime

Last night I had a dream (sorry, not about to call all Martin Luther on you). First I was at a meeting in the Netherlands. I had just enough time to check in and then I had to rush to another meeting in Germany. There I met with some friends and we needed to come back. I got confused and couldn't remember the station I needed to go to. Everyone left me.

That is one of the best summaries of my life in a dream that I think I have ever had. Manically rushing around and not able to rely on friends. Great.

Adoption

I sometimes wonder if weirdness follows me around on purpose. A little while ago I blogged about being in London and coming across a woman being "chased" by a man. Well, yesterday I decided to take the daughter to Drayton Manor. She's now over 1.3 metres tall and a new set of fast rides are therefore available. As a speed freak and adrenalin junkie, at eight and a half she wants to go on the fastest rides possible. Problem is that J doesn't want to see junior on the fast rides! So as I was in charge yesterday and J was working, it was an ideal opportunity.

Up until lunch all was normal (if you count an eight and a half year old girl enjoying "G Force" as normal). We had lunch, short walk around the zoo to let the food go down (and I can't go there without seeing the tigers) then decided to go on the Bounty (pirate ship that swings back and forth until you are hanging looking straight down feeling weightless). Standing in the queue Junior gets to taking to this other eight year old girl. That's fine, happy to encourage her to socialise. We are let on to the ride and they rush to the back. There isn't room for me and I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of sitting in the row in front but hey, she's made a friend and the parent is in the back with them so it can't be too bad. Ride over and we walk out. The two girls say they want to go to Stormforce. No problem. But where is the other parent. It is at this point it dawns on me that the "other" parent was completely unrelated to this girl, instead we seem to have adopted an 8 year old who is wandering around the park by herself. Apparently her father is building a new ride and she is just left to herself for the day. So somehow I end up in loco parentis. What could I do? I wasn't comfortable with her being left alone in the park so it seems better that she comes with us. At one point she's supposed to be back with her father but he rings her (a plus is that she has a phone) and tells her she doesn't need to go back. I end up buying her tea (she did have money and was very polite but I couldn't take a twenty pound note off a child). And she stays with us until the park closes. When I still can't just leave her so walk her back to the ride being built and then spend half an hour getting the attention of her father, who appears more irritated at being disturbed than grateful that I have kept his daughter safe all day.

Of course what I now realise is that there is hours of CCTV coverage of me walking around the park with a girl who I only know by her first name. Anyone seeing us would have assumed she was my daughter as she was hugging me and playing just as "A" was.

All very strange.

Hotels and all that

After so many years if travel, hotels in London still manage to surprise me with the ridiculous prices for hovels of rooms and poor service. Brought into even mire sharp relief today because I have just spent two nights in the MacDonald Spa Bath Hotel before coming here, to the Strand Palace.

The MacDonald in Bath is a wonderful hotel. Set in lovely grounds, it has rooms that are a pleasure to stay in, and staff who could not be more friendly. What's that sir, you're going to London for a few days, well of course you can leave your car in our car park, no bother at all sir.

So today is a rush over on the train. The meeting has already started so I join that thinking I'll check in later. 1830hrs arrives and I'm standing in a long queue. Not enough staff to cope. Finally get to the desk, give my name and the company I'm with. No sign of my booking. OK, well the others are booked in because they arrives last night. No they didn't need a booking reference and we don't have one. First man is particularly unhelpful, not least because he can't speak English. I leave the queue. Fire up the computer. Check and no booking reference. Back in the queue which is now even longer. Another man walking along the queue asking people if they have stayed here before. This is the wrong question to ask because my answer is "unfortunately yes, and i swore I never would again and if I'd known we were booking out meeting here I'd have got them to book elsewhere.". This does at least get his attention. I sit down while he goes to find out what is happening. After 10 minutes he comes back and tells me that he needs to speak to the conference manager. Finally returns. Yes they have found my booking but they had thought it was for two nights and booked menin last night. Si now it seems to be my fault that I was only ever coming for one night while the others were booked in for two. But this still doesn't explain how I got checked in when I wasn't here. Oh well it was a group booking. Hang on, yes a group booking but everyone turned up separately and I HADN'T CHECKED IN LAST NIGHT. My argument that surely they knew who was in a room or not didn't seem to make sense to them.

To paraphrase a famous man - never, in the field of accommodation, has so much been charged for so little.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that happiness is a state of mind. Happiness is NOT everything going right for you. It isn't not having to make difficult decisions. Happiness is not passive.

It is an active thing. Taking the world on and keeping your head up. Not regretting decisions. Not being afraid to make mistakes. To know yourself. To recognise the beauty around you. And to just BE.

A Chase

What do you do when you are wandering around London (OK geocaching, I admit it) at nine o'clock in the evening and you see a woman being stalked by a man and in clear distress. On valentines night. It's so easy in today's society to disengage. And for a moment I didn't want to get involved. But she kept stopping and telling him to go away. I couldn't leave her. So I asked if she needed help, and she said this man wouldn't leave her alone. At this point we are down a fairly deserted back street and I can just imagine knives. But I politely address him as sir and ask what he is doing. She walks off rapidly. He explains that it is ok, she is his fiancé. That they have had an argument. And he shows me her ring. What do I do now? I'm still worried about her but it seems reasonable. I ask him what the argument was about. He quite reasonably says it isn't my business. Which is kind of true. But I am now committed into making sure she is ok. Mind you, she's disappeared around the corner by now. So I explain that my primary concern is the lady. He then explains the argument was over his plans tonight. That seems real enough. I ask his name and he quickly gives it to me. So I decide to trust him and tell him I hope he sorts it out.

So was I wrong to get involved. Or wrong not to stop him altogether. Or did I call it right. I will never know for sure. But if there's a murder tonight, I have a name.

To Kindle or Not To Kindle

.....that is the question!

It's technology, it's a gadget, so of course I am attracted. But I am hesitant. Books are great, not just because of the story, but also because of the look, the feel, the smell. That they can sit on a shelf and when you glimpse them out of the corner of your eye they bring back memories. That seems a lot to lose. Mind you, I have run out of shelf space. And being able to take 5 books on holiday without needing an extra bag seems attractive. Then what about choice, 650000 books sounds a lot to chose from but they may not include some of my more eclectic tastes.

I suspect I will ponder. I will deliberate. And then one night after a whisky I will order one anyway!

A Small Bite

I've been lucky enough to go through my 40-years with very little in the way of teeth problems. Other than removal of the occasional wisdom tooth I haven't needed any other treatment - no fillings etc. And last time I saw my dentist at the end of last year he said he didn't foresee any problems in the future.

So imagine my surprise a week or so ago when one of my front teeth became incredibly sensitive. For someone who likes coffee this was a definite problem. I was contemplating a visit to the dentist as I just wondered if that was a crack I could see across the surface of the tooth. Now imagine my even greater surprise when eating a Brie and chutney sandwich on Friday and suddenly it seemed crunchy. And then I realised that a big chunk of a molar (yes, a BACK tooth) was no longer in it's rightful place, instead floating around my mouth.

So I've spent the weekend with my tongue being sliced by my broken molar every time I swallowed and the front of my mouth hurting every time I breathed through my mouth.

All a bit of a shock really.

Sent from my iPhone

Top Gear

So the BBC have apologised for some comments made in Top Gear about Mexicans. Now I haven't heard the comments but I watch enough Top Gear to know what they will be like. Which is kind if the point. Because if the BBC start apologising for comments on Top Gear then someone in their communications department has a full time job ahead if them. I doubt that there is any group that HASN'T been insulted on the programme. In fact, it's probably an insult NOT to have cruel, snide or bitter remarks made about you.

Sent from my iPhone