Meh!

Since just before Christmas (2008), I’ve had the constant ache and pain in my right-hand shoulder, elbow, forearm and hand caused by a bulging disk between my 6th and 7th vertibrae in my neck.
Millions of people on this planet suffer far worse every single day. So why am I moaning about this?

Well, it does tend to take the edge off general day-to-day activities and limit what I can do to an extent. Therefore, I’m a little worn-down by this constant ache and more recently, pins-and-needles in my right hand.

I’m receiving Physiotherapy, which is having a slightly improving affect on my neck. I’ve had X-Rays and an MRI of the area to confirm the cause of the problem.

How did I get this complaint? Well, the concensus of opinion singles out my laptop PC and my general, poor posture whilst operating said equipment.

The cure? Better posture and avoiding using the laptop whilst it is balanced on my thighs in airports and out of the office. This will take quite a long time, I am told by the consultant treating my condition.

The moral, ‘Take better care of yourself”. This is the one and only body that you have and it has got to get you to the end without totally breaking down. So, eat better, exercise, practice good posture, take regular breaks from working on the PC and generally be aware of the limitations of our bodies. Workaholicism wll screw-up your life!

The Stress of Travel these Days

The taxi arrived slightly early but the journey to York railway station was ‘calm’ itself.
I bought a copy of Esquire to read on the journey and a below-par cup of coffee from the AMT concession in the station concourse.

The Manchester Piccadilly station train was fine to begin with but by Leeds, the peace and quite of First Class was shattered by Standard Class thieves. ‘Thieves’, because they hadn’t paid to be there. The conductor couldn’t be bothered to do his job (as complicated as it was) and so I had to put up with noisy, loutish passengers all the way to Manchester Piccadilly.

Platform 13 is where the Manchester Airport leg of the journey was due to leave, according to the electronic signs. After a long, long walk and some half-whit in a station uniform inspecting my ticket, only to tell me exactly what was printed on the ticket, I arrived at platform 13.

I heard an announcement at 15:15, informing me that my train would now leave from platform 8. Marvellous! Hot, and bothered by British ineptitude (this would NEVER happen in Switzerland or Germany), I trudged all the way back to whence I had arrived 25 minutes earlier. The train, suffice it to say, left late. Well, what do you expect. This is England after all!

At Manchester Airport railway station, I walked to the bus for Terminal 3 and, less than half full, it left as I exited the terminal and walked towards the bus. Thanks a bunch, you idiot of a driver! Why do you think that they employ you? To drive a bus fast, throwing passengers about, as if to impress them? No, to get passengers from the station to T3, now that they have well and truly screwed up Manchester Airport!

There used to be a time when you could walk to Terminal 3, via the Sky Walk bridge and through Terminal 1 and onto your destination. All under cover and inside the building. But the geniuses at Manchester Airport have ‘improved’ the facilities there. Now, you have to undertake the challenge of finding your own way there (whatever you do, don’t be fooled by the signs directing you to T3, you’ll end up in the car park if you do!), via some external route (so you’ll get wind-swept and wet when it rains – something that Manchester is renowned for).

Once there, I checked in with BA (why does BA have the check-in desks the furthest from anywhere?) and then on to the people with a job for life in ‘Security’.
I’m a grey-haired, sad old 52 year-old, white, Anglo-Saxon male. Do I look like a terrorist (oh, dear, we cannot ‘profile’ people, that would be ‘racist’!). So, I go through the bad joke that is security and something sets off the alarm. Meanwhile, the laptop, bag, wallet (with passport, credit cards, boarding passes and cash – that I was told to place in a grey plastic tray) trundles by on the conveyor for all to see and take, should they wish.

I was asked to sit down away from the conveyors and was asked to take off my shoes and belt whilst some jobs-worth, went over me with a finer tooth-comb.

I went for my wallet and was told to put it down and sit on the chair.
I said, ‘No, my cash, cards, passport and boarding passes are in my wallet; I’m holding on to them.’
‘You are not allowed to take anything from the conveyor until I say so!’ came the twerp’s reply.
‘Well, I don’t care what you say, this wallet is staying with me and that’s that!’
He went all quiet, got on with the farce he enacts each day and then let me go.

Suitably steamed-up by the power-crazed members of the public in security uniforms, I walked to the BA Lounge where I was able to relax, have a cooling drink and unwind from Manchester Airport.
When my flight was called, I walked calmly and by now totally relaxed, to my gate to board the flight for Heathrow.

Heading East

I’ll be setting off on my travels again shortly. This is a mixture of anticipation and dread for me. Dread because I think that I’ll forget to pack something (yes, I know, ‘Make a List’) or when I’m gone something will crop up at home and my wife will have to deal with it alone. Or maybe the taxi will arrive late and I’ll miss my train and then miss the flight from Manchester to Heathrow and then miss the flight to Bangkok!

I’m not looking forward to the 34˚C temperatures and high humidity that will greet me in Bangkok, Singapore and Manila.
I’m not a lover of heat. It will be a schvitz! And, you get torrential rain there too!

But I am intrigued by the thought of seeing Bangkok, Singapore and Manila – half a world away. I’m also looking forward to capturing it all on my Sony DSC-W90 camera. I’ll upload some of the better snaps on my flickr account.

So, like most things in life, you have to take the rough with the smooth.

Near miss

 

Female Tree Sparrow in the middle of the raod.

As I drove to the supermarket for a few last-minute supplies, I almost hit this little lady. So, I parked-up the car and walked back to shoo her off the raod. But all she did was hop onto my hand .

So, I walked her to a nearby wall and put her on it, out of harms way. She just flew up into a tree.

What was that all about then?

Good Luck Heikki

After paying the bill and checking out of the Hostelliere de Genève, Georgios and I walked along the lake shore again toward the office. Despite taking it easy, we were still damp with perspiration once we arrived at the office.
We had our meeting with Georgios’ boss, Marc and this was very productive; well worth the visit.

The road leaving Vevey heading for Lausanne.

 

 

Later, before walking to the station to catch my train to the airport, I bought a few things at the staff shop (especially some Thomy products for Laura and her boyfriend Tom).

After checking into my flight I went to the BA lounge. The Geneva lounge is very nice indeed. Quiet, except for the gentle background sound of bird song and lots of space to find a quiet area to relax and await the calling of your flight.
As I went up to the self-service, bar area, I saw a young guy who looked familier. Yes, it was Heikki Kovalainen, the number 2 McLaren driver. He sat with his girlfriend or his McLaren P.A. (I don’t know which), out of the way at the back of the lounge. So, I left him alone.

I picked up a 1 litre bottle of Bombay Sapphire Gin at the duty free and went to my gate. There, I was upgraded again to Club/Business. When I got onto the Airbus, in the seat in front of me was Heikki.

Again, I left him alone to sleep through the flight. Certainly, he didn’t want to eat the kind of food being offered up, even in Club; it wouldn’t match his dietary requirements. It was very nice for airline food.

When we landed, I could help bu reach over, shake his hand and wish him well for the forthcoming practice session at Silverstone for the British Grand Prix. Rather unsportingly, I added that on race day I hoped that his finish second, behind Kimi Räikkönen.  He just smiled (and probably though ‘What an arsehole!’ and who could blame him?) and then collected his bag and walked towards the luggage collection point. He’s a nice lad, very polite and a damned fast driver who will do well in F1.

Security was the usual pain-in-the-arse. This time, just to confuse me (see my last post on this matter) I had to leave my laptop in my rucksack (having removed it in Geneva) and removed my trouser belt and shoes. In just two days, all had changed again!
Talk about a job for ruddy life!

A quick drink in the BA lounge and then off for my delayed BA flight to Manchester. ‘Do you know that you’ve been upgraded to Business?’ said the lady checking in my bags. ‘Yes’, I replied ‘but there is no Business section on the Heathrow to Manchester flight, so it’s meaningless.’

Once I was off the flight and eventually collected my bag, I trundled my circuitous way to Terminal 1 from T3 (thanks to the ‘improvements’ made by Manchester Airport Management!), I walked over the sky-bridge and hopped onto the Trans Pennine Newcastle train, via York.
It was good to be home after the tedium of travelling.

Hot start, Wet finish.

Breakfast at the hotel was meagre for a diabetic like me but fine if you have a fully functining pancreas.

My colleague, Georgios (Yorgos) Solomos and I walked to work along the shore of Lake Geneva. A truly amazing experience and one that I wish that I could experience evey single day. However, the temperature was so warm that by the time I arrived at the office, I was wet with sweat. What a great way to start the day. Yeech! But, Georgios’ office has great views over the Lake to make up for all the woes.

The view from Yorgos' office (camera phone shot)

 

 

The meeting with Andrew went well. Georgios, Andrew and I are all heading in the same direction on this project, it’s just that Georgios and I have a slightly different idea about how we should proceed. No matter, it’s Andrew’s project/responsibility.

Georgios and I spent the afternoon researcjing flights and hotels for our Bangkok, Singapore and Manila trip.

Then, we walked back with the weather looking decidedly grim. Dark, storm clouds blocked out the mountains on the French side of the lake and headed towards ours side. We only just made it back to the hotel before a deluge drenched Vevey.

In-Coming!

 After a quick shower (in the hotel!) I met Georgios and we used out umbrellas to walk to Charlies Café& Bar for a coffee before heading off for dinner nearby.
All-in-all, a hot start and a wet finish.

Working in Vevey

I spent Monday 30th June travelling. First a taxi to York railway station, then the Trans Pennine train to Manchester Airport. Once there, I walked across the sky-bridge to towards Terminals 1 & 3. 
The Manchester Airport management team have well-and-truely screwed up what was a half-decent airport!
Thanks to their ‘improvements‘ you can no longer get to Terminal 3 by walking inside the building. Now, you have to exit Terminal 1 and take a really shitty route around the perimeter of the building, all the time getting wet, wind-swept whilst crossing roads and wearing out the wheels of your luggage on bumpy, unevent pavements.
Before they ‘improved’ the building, you merely walked from the sky bridge, down the escalator, through the entrace to the gates and down a slope into the open area where there were shops, toilets and restaurants and up the escalator to the connecting walk-way to Terminal 3.

Just give me 5 minutes in a locked room with a spoon and the genius who thought up these so-called ‘improvements’ and I’ll feel a little better!

I calmed down in the BA lounge and relaxed a little before my flight to Heathrow. A pleasent and uneventful journey, that BA do so well.

For a change, the backage handlers didn’t loose my bag at Terminal 5. Terminal 5 is looking complete these days. No more loose wiring, half-finished out-of-the-way areas of flooring, and a profusion of ‘Out of Order’ signs on doors and lifts.

Security was the usual pain-in-the-arse. This time, just to confuse me (having taken my laptop out of my rucksack and removed my trouser belt and shoes at Manchester security), I had to keep my laptop in the rucksack, and keep my shoes and trouser belt in place.

Again, the BA lounge was an Oasis of calm in a sea of travel hell. I had a nibble of salad, juice and enjoyed a cold beer whilst surfing the Web on the PCs provided. 
My flight appeared on the board and I walked to gate 4 to board. As I was boarding, my boarding pass was scanned and a red light blinked and a ‘berp’ sound emitted from the scanner. Oh dear I thought; what’s wrong now?
‘Mr Hulme, you’ve been upgraded to Business’ was the answer. Nice. Very nice indeed, I thought to myself, allowing a slight smile animate my craggy old visage.
Afternoon Tea, was very nice. Although being diabetic, I couldn’t avail myself of all the goodies on my tray.

 

Leaving Blighty

 

 

Geneva Airport is a place that ALL UK Airport Mangement should visit. They should vist and LEARN!
I walked off the flight and by the time I arrived at conveyor 5, my bag was being coughed up by the Swiss, super efficient baggage handling system! Watch and learn BAA Management (who run the £4.3 billlion Terminal 5). I bet Geneva airport in its entirety didn’t cost half of that obscene sum of money.

Then, I walked through Customs and onto the ATM to take out CHF50 (£25) for incidental expenditure – for all the rest, there’s VISA.

I bought a drink and waited for my SBB train to Vevey. It was warm. Very warm, when compared to Manchester – the last time that I’d been outide. In fact, it was about 10˚C warmer.
The train pulled out of the airport exactly on time. An hour later, I heard the announcement for Vevey in French, then German and finally in English.

Because Nestlé were running some regional conference on something-or-other, all the hotels were fully booked. I’d managed to book a room at the Hostelliere de Genève. It was a small rom witha double bed, a desk/work area and a separate shower, basin and toilet. Looking out of the windows, I saw the rooftops near the Market Place and down towards the Lake.

 

The Hostelliere de Genève

 

 

It was 30˚C outside but luckily I had an airconditioning unit in my room. I set it to ‘Full’ and had a shower. After changing out of my suit, I walked along the lakeside taking in the view and snapping photographs with my Sony DSC-W90.

 

Finishing off the Perche

Later, I came back for my favourite meal Filets de Perche (and the Hostelliere de Genève serves the very best!), washed down with a cold, local beer. The only way to end a rather tiring day getting to this beautiful Swiss Town.

Chores

29th June, 2008

Another lazy Sunday, well, for me at least.

Debbie asked me to fix the fence panel to the right-hand side of our house. The wooden slats had slipped from their possitions and fallen amongst the climbing plants that used the fence panel for support. So, I sized-up the job: what materials and tools would I need and how would I approach it?

But then Tom (my son) collared me and we drove over to the McArthur Glen Designer Outlet, to the south of York, to have a coffee at Caffé Nerro. We listened to Messhugah’s ‘Nothing’ album as we drove there and back.

Pleasant distraction over, I began work on the fence panel. First, I deconstructed the panel. Then, I had to trim-back the climbing plants to allow me full access from either side. I carefully re-assembeled the panel, carefully wood-gluing and pinning the slats back into position. It was strangely satisfying to see something broken, reform into a neat, repaired state. Even if I say so mysef, it was a job well done.

I was on a ‘roll’. Because later that day, I replaced the damaged Vanetian blind in the bathroom. That was a frustratingly ‘fiddly’ job: cutting the Vanetian Blind’s upper and lower ‘frame’ with a Hack-Saw and then the tedious task of clipping the blind slats to length.

After a fabulous Macarroni Cheese that Debbie made, I went for a walk and got my step count up to 17,100.

Then, Tom and I went out for a drive. We headed north, through Strenshall and on towards Easingwold and back via Crayke. It had been raining quiet hard, earlier in the day but the evening had turned into a magical, summer’s evening. The light was perfect and I snapped a few photographs.

A Summer Evening

 

 

Once home, I began packing for my business trip to Vevey, in Switzerland.

Contingency Plan

26th/27th June, 2008

I’d know about the liklehood of a strike by staff at Kings Cross station in London from 12:00 today (26th) but ‘management’ assurded the public of a normal service.

The presentation and talk that I gave to the assembled business process heads went very well, I thought. Afterwards, I travelled to Islington to visit my daughter, Laura, and her boyfriend, Tom (confusing, becuase my son’s called Tom). It was lovely to see her again and their new appartment.
She cooked for me a wonderful meal of roasted salmon and vegetables. I brought some wine with me, a Sancerre. Delicious! But Tom couldn’t make it as he had to work late for a client.

After our ‘Good byes’, I walked back to Caledonian Road Tube Station and the Kings Cross railway station.

That is when I found out about the power failure near Doncaster and the resulting signal failure in nearby Newark. The result: trains delayed by 45-60 minutes. So, my 21:00 would leave at 22:00 – no problem.
However, within 20 minutes of waiting, all trains were cancelled, except for one bound for Leeds at 23:30 (arriving 02:00).

I picture messgaed Laura with the cancellation board and she invited me to stay the night at her place.

Stranded

I let Debbie (my wife) know and headed back to Islington. Rain greated me as I exited Caledonian Road Tube Station. Fortunately, I carried a compact umbrella in my incase backpack

Tom had arrived home and was enjoying the portion of salmon that Laura had left back for him. We chatted, watched a little television before we all turned in for bed. Laura’s sofa was large and comfortable. I had a great night’s sleep and woke to a quiet, fresh morning. The rain had cleaned and cooled the muggy air from the night before. Laura’s neighbour’s cat, Doris, looked in on me and I ket her in for some stroking and a few cat treats.

 

Let me in!

 

 

 

After Greek yogurt, granola and berries, I thanked Laura and Tom and headed back, yet again, to Kings Cross. I caught the 08:00 to York and the trip was a peaceful, calm journey that bore no resemblance to the chaotic night before.

A 225 National Express

Drizzly-Misery

A fine spray of rain fell throughout most of the day. None-the-less, Tom wanted to drive out into the countryside (Castle Howard) and take some photographs with his Canon 300D.

I held the umbrella to shield Tom from the incessant spray – rather badly though; I’d never get a job as a professional umbrella holder, that’s for sure.

After 7 years without seeing a dentist, I finally signed up to a dentist in Dunnington (a village to the East side of York). I’m dreading the pain and cost but on 3rd July I will have to attend an inspection of my decaying mouth.

I’ve had much, much better days that this one that’s for sure. All-in-all the day was like the weather; not becuase of the people around me but because of the miserable little git inside of me.