I didn’t sleep much on the plane. That wasn’t the plane’s fault; it was a silky smooth take off, so smooth I didn’t realise we were airborne. Definitely Boeing did something right when they built the 787. However, I was crammed in next to a small child, one equipped with a horror movie voice. “I love
mumy country” she repeated again and again.
Continue reading “Down and out in Tokyo”
Clearly it wasn’t a very good idea to go out drinking last night, although curiously off a five-gin hangover I performed better than on Saturday morning, when I hadn’t been drinking at all. At one point, unable to sleep I’d got up and, enraged by the amount of junk I’ve accumulated, tidied up the top of the sideboard. Or at least, put away in a cupboard the horrendous trophies I’d won during internal company competitions.
Continue reading “Regrets, I’ve had a few”
I’m flying from Terminal 2 at Singapore, which is a confounding experience. The check-in area is enormous, with high, high ceilings and a real feeling of space. Then you go through the passport check into the usual maze of overpriced duty free. And then, because I’m on an ANA flight to Tokyo, I walk a very long way, past increasingly depressing shops selling stronger and stronger lager that must be consumed before boarding your plane, while the ceilings get lower and lower and the carpets grow more gloomy (and what sense does it make to have carpets in an airport in the tropics, unless you’re trying to boast about how much money you’re spending on air conditioning to atop them getting mouldy?)
Is the fault in our stars, or with the airport? Or is it just that nobody should be flying on a red eye on a Sunday night for business, when all around are backpackers in Thai fisherman’s trousers and bad tans, on their way back from adventure or casual filth, while you’re schlepping around with a two-tonne corporate laptop hewn from purest lead?
What I’m trying to say is, business travel isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
All day I was good for nothing, exhausted and dehydrated. Clearly the best way to get back to normal was to go out drinking in the evening. Well, I promised my wife I would only have two beers, and I was going to watch the Chelsea-Crystal Palace match, when I don’t even like football, so how drunk could I get?
Apparently, Chelsea have spent almost a billion pounds on players in the past ten years. Crystal Palace, meanwhile, upheld the proud tradition of South London clubs, by populating the team with people who look like they might just as easily be selling you loudspeakers out the back of a Ford Transit at a price that’s literally too good to be true. However, the big difference was that the ramshackle looking Palace were capable of kicking the ball into the Chelsea goal, and Chelsea weren’t good at reciprocating.
Sure, there were quite a few kicks in the vague direction of the goal in the first half, but usually well above the crossbar, as though nobody had told Chelsea this was soccer and not rugby.
Continue reading “Palace of delights”
Clearly we’re not over our jet lag. I was so boss wyed I couldn’t read La Serpiente’s bedtime stories to her tonight (but luckily she fell asleep anyway) and after I read to her I passed out on the sofa. At 8:30 in the evening.
So we hope tonight is better than last night’s nightmare. It could hardly be worse than our daughters double-teaming ua with their shock and awe tactics.
Meanwhile, we attended the school orientation meeting today. I now understand more about the importance of labelling nappies. Is that why I’m so tired?
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Today I decided that I’d give up drinking coffee. This is probably going to turn out to be a bad decision, but for the last two days I’ve had a latte at my second- or third- favourite café in Singapore, and I’ve been disgusted by the taste. Same coffee, same barista, nothing seems to have changed apart from me.
Continue reading “No more coffee”
I don’t know what’s come over La Serpiente Aquatica Negra, but all of a sudden she’s decided to dispense with my services.
Continue reading “No no no”