Cool - me own blog!

Wow - where to start?

I'm in the air over the US somewhere between Austin and Washington having just spent a long weekend in Texas with some great people. I'm short on sleep, looking a bit rough around the edges and I loved every minute of it. So here's what happened:

I was in Paris. A lovely place. We got down to breakfast and sit down. Help yourself type arrangement so... I do! I get the bowl, load up on some cereal and into it. Very very nice. Good for me and proud of doing that instead of the Bacon and Eggs that are OH so appealing. Now... coffee... I put my hand up, get the wait staff's attention, and ask for a cup... she points to the (cereal fouled) bowl. Ahhh... it's actually the cup huh? aaa well... can I ... err ... have another one? All good. I'm a bit buggered so I have a coffee... and another one. Feeling slightly wired we leave and head in for the meetings we have coming up.

We went into the office for the various meetings as we'd arranged and it was hot (coming up Summer) and there is this thing in France which says you need to look good (read "suit and tie") for meetings. So... suit and tie it is. Damn it's hot but that's the price of fame I guess. We rock on in, meet some colleagues of sorts (a sister company we work alongside) and they take us out for coffee. Fair enough... that's my 3rd coffee of the day (although on a dosage basis, it'd be about 7). I've got the "can't sit still" shakes happening but that's ok. Been there before - must find water and give it an hour or two. It'll work itself out.

We have a very productive meeting from 11:00am till 12:00 midday, and when that's done toddle off to find the people I'd arranged an afternoon meeting with. See if they want to join us for lunch, we need to finalise a time for the meeting, and confirm the agenda (there is a 3rd party/customer joining us)... only to find oh, Laurent is on holiday today. SURPRISE! Hmmm... 1/2 my Paris visit thrown to the 4 winds but then... who am I to deprive a man of his downtime?

So... back to the hotel, clean up/dress down and go see the sights. If you were looking for a big red bus... would you do it under a sign "Rouge Car"?. Because that's where it is! Those crafty French decided that a car would be called a voiture, so a bus could be called a ... "car". Oh goody. So after the confusion fades we go find a stop for the big red cars, aka double decker, open topped buses and head off for Friday afternoon's tour of Paris. The earphones don't work so well... or I should say - they don't work at all... so we get off that bus, wander around in the blazing hot sun and see some sights on foot. It's reasonably warm but I'm in t-shirt and shorts. So I'm fine. My offsider however... longs and shoes. He's starting to sweat and keeps going on about needing to buy some shorts. No worries says I... but we don't get around to it.

Back on the bus - see some more sights, and getting on (2/3 of the way?) I notice the weather... quickly heading our way... looking very dark, quite ominous and the clouds are kind of "glowing". I know there is a name for it when clouds fluoresce but I'm not sure what it is. I also know it means there is a TON of electrical activity in there. And after the whole damned sky started to light up I knew I was right, and about to get wet (top deck, open topped bus...!). All except the front two rows of seats that are under a canopy/awning thing - so I head up there. Awesome.

The rain comes down, I'm sitting pretty seeing the sights (well, those I can still see through the water) and then the bus is heading along the side of the Louvre... arriving at the next stop. On with the brakes, the bus comes to a stop and my feet... feel... wet.

Hmmmm - look down and the water (nicely collecting on the open top of the bus till now) had all come to the front when the brakes went on. I love physics. The wind had turned, I was starting to get a wet back and because we were no longer heading forwards the rain (coming from behind) was turning into a bastard of a soaking with every gust.

Time to head downstairs. Run down the (very slippery) steps and grab a seat, right under a leak coming through from the upper deck. bugger... move again. So now - everyone is downstairs we can't see a damned thing out the front of the bus and we're waiting the next 15 mins or so till we get to the stop where we got on... so we can head back to the hotel. If we miss it we're going to get wet... very very wet. So I walk forward a bit and... the bus brakes a little to turn to the right...

*SPLOOOSSSSHHHHH*. Ahhh yes. Physics again. Bus goes right, water goes left. The stairwells are on the left and the ever deepening pool on the top deck was liberated when it found the stairwells en masse (note the French term there - I'm kinda proud of that). Anyway - back to the *SPLOOOSSSSHHHHH*. Water heading down, around the stairwell and launching itself across the bus just behind me (HA - MISSED!). It does it again and again - the driver opens the doors to let the water out and we're all good. Arche de Triumphe ahead (I can see it coming up).. that's our stop so we bail off the bus, train it back to the hotel and dry out that last little bit. No worries.

I pack up, head out to my next hotel near the airport. Finally - I've made it. I'm in THE Paris Hilton. The hotel has a number of parallels to the personality that become immediately obvious. The first is the entrance - a revolving door (appropriate - no?), entering into a well used but apparently maintained entrance way. There were other parallels but I cannot think of them at the mo. I remember they were funny (to me anyway).

My email's not working (at the hotel... not sure if it's working yet at all actually) so I'm forced to have an early night. It's only 10:30 when I call it a day. I need to be up at 4:25 the next morning. It's important so I ring down for a wake up call AND set my phone alarm. Happy, and tired - I sleep... till 3:55. Those crazy French decided the nominal 6 hours I gave myself was far too much, and pared it back by 1/2 hour. It doesn't sound much, but trust me, running low on sleep, with a maximum of 6 hours available... every 1/2 hour is a big deal. Or not if you're in Paris Hilton.

Anyway - I roll over and get back to the land of nod (very easily I might add) and... (5 mins later ANOTHER BLOODY CALL). This is the follow up call to make sure I hadn’t missed the wake up call. I just managed to stay this side of "the sweary line" and let them know I actually asked for 4:25, but just cancel it etc. And went back to sleep... again.... YEESH!

So, I wake with the alarm, dress, pack the 3 things left outstanding (on the floor in my way to the door so I don't/can't forget them) and we're off. Signed out of the hotel and onto the flight to Austin Texas for Memorial Day weekend. Paris to Munich to Chicago to Austin (find the map... backwards to start with... !). Anyway, we're 25 late taking off, and it's was tight connection to start with! 45 mins to go from plane to plane just got reduced to about 10, and by the time we'd landed and taxied it was only 15 minutes - for an international connection in some other part of the biggest airport I think I've seen (yes - bigger than Heathrow, and probably Frankfurt - this is like Ben Hur big!)

So, on the way in I'm getting concerned - I call the Flight Hostess over and let her know and she just smiles... oh that's easy, you'll be fine. I'm not too confident personally and am making plans to spend a long weekend in Munich (oh yay...) rather than in Austin with friends. There's the usual range of garbled announcements on the way to the airport and one of them mentions Chicago... my next stop. We land, we taxi, I'm concerned (realising I actually do only have 15 mins to connect). As we're getting off the plane I asked "What was that about Chicago?". "Oh there's a van waiting for passengers connecting"

I see the man with the van at the bottom of the steps and I indicate to him I'm one such passenger. He tells me to get in, and proceeds to drive off, asking for my baggage tag information (which I actually do keep handy). He radios it ahead and we have an escort leading us across the tarmac from Plane A to Plane B (or so I think)... nope - have to do the clearance through scanning luggage etc again so I get taken to the back door, the man scans my passport (just me), checks my bags (just mine) and I'm lead up the back way to the gates to the plane.

Another baggage guy scans the bags and says something cheerfully to me... in German. So I simply say "English?". He says "No definitely German" and carried it off beautifully. I found the mythical German with a sense of humour! I was stunned - I thought this was someone that existed on in the mind of those seeking the Holy Grail... but NO!.

I laughed and thanked him, then asked - where's gate 53 (5 mins to go...!) he smiles and confirmed "next to gate 52"... again- beautiful delivery. The humour of the situation is completely lost in this writing I'm sure. But the Hostess all the way back then was right I did make it... with one last final hitch... my seat had been given to someone else. It beeped, reported an error at the gate and the guy (another guy - back to the mechanistic Germanic way) said I had been upgraded... to Business ...to cross the Atlantic to Chicago. Happy camper... very happy camper.

Bugger!.

Next instalment. Keeping it Weird in Austin!