I write to you from the jazz-inflected surroundings of the Foyles café, on my whistlestop tour of London, and following the successful work do out in Berkshire over the past few days.
But first: before I left we had a preemptive birthday party for Gaby on Friday night in our building's "party room" (she then had a family BBQ on the actual day), which was fun and fuelled by caipirinhas and cake, despite a torrential downpour outside. My flight over was interesting - I tried to be clever and choose a seat with extra legroom, but it turned out to be in the place where they put small children, so I had a screaming child basically in my lap the whole night.
I got to Cliveden House on Sunday afternoon and didn't leave my room until the next morning, making full use of the bath and room service facilities, then rushed through two days of herding statesmen, printing statements, overseeing discussion groups and eating three-course meals until it was time to hitch a ride into London with my boss's luggage.
Having dropped off my suitcase at Kika's Bloomsbury office I hung out in a new Swedish smorgsabord place on Tottenham Court Road, before we went for a review courtesy of my erstwhile Fluid London editor, on a boat opposite the London Eye, which was a pleasant blast from the past featuring steak and fine wines. And now I'm laying low in Central London before heading to Shepperton to see Jack and the family, before hitting up Ely/Isleham tomorrow. Then on to Nice!
No compilation this week unfortunately; my expression of the day translates as "from this forest no rabbit will come", and is used to express frustration towards fruitless situations, if you're that way inclined.
See you sooooon,
No comments:
Post a Comment