The clock was ticking down the last minutes and seconds of 2010, when I looked outside to see fireworks and hear the church bells peel.
Wow! More snow! It had all but disappeared from sight and without warning, it covered everything once again in whiteness.
We toasted in the New Year before turning-in for bed.

Heading North towards Farlington.

Although the snow is melting and generally disappearing, it is doing this very slowly; you almost need time-lapse photography to notice any changes.

However, in parts of the countryside, to the North of York, the snow is a little more stubborn and persists. Some of the smaller, single-track, country roads are still not clear of compacted snow and ice. This makes for challenging driving. Gentleness on the accelerator and minimal use of the brakes is what is needed here. Anticipation of what cold lay ahead and using higher gears and engine-braking are the secret to staying in the groove (literally).

I do like to get out to see the countryside at times like this, despite the ‘danger’. There is a quiet, calm stillness that lies like snow over all that you see; a dangerous beauty. Although I am sure that birds and animals don’t see it in these terms. They  continuously look for food and shelter from the elements.

When the sun shines through the clouds, the whole place looks lovely and very Christmas Card-like.

All-in-all, the year 2009 has been a good one for me. I’m still solvant, have my health and still travel extensively. I also have the love and support of my family (they’re crazy, they should have kicked me out years ago!) and work with some very good people.

I hope that the year 2010 will be as good – it’s a little selfish to ask for any more. And maybe, I’ll be a better person to be around too; if I really try harder.

Why does it take 80 minutes to get the bags off the plane?

My last Business Trip of 2009 started off very well. The taxi was on time, the East Coast Express train was also on time.

At Kings Cross, I was even lucky enough to have a fleeting chat with my daughter, Laura, whilst handing over Christmas presents. Now that’s a rare gift that money cannot buy.

The Underground and the Heathrow Express all worked like clockwork. This was working out well.

I arrived at Terminal 5 and checked in for my flight to Geneva two hours early. I dislike last-minute rushes, you make mistakes and get flustered.
I went through security in a very relaxed manner and all was well. Then, in the British Airways First Lounge, I ordered a meal because I knew that I wouldn’t eat until I arrived at the hotel, in Murten, Switzerland.

The flight to Geneva was trouble-free, if a little crowded, but I was one of the first of the flight to collect my bag and then to catch the train to Yverdon-les-Bains, where I would meet my work colleague Roberto. He was to collect me a drive me to the hotel.

The twerps at Heathrow lost my bag.  They never managed to get my bag on the flight.  I do know that it’s a difficult task, but the Swiss always make it look so efficient and easy. The Heathrow Terminal Five crew have screwed up several times now.  Suddenly, making the last train to Yverdon changed from a ‘walk-in-the-park’ to a miracle. Everyone had taken their bag from the carousel and I was left like a lost child looking forlorn.

By the time I had sorted out the Administration in Geneva Airport fopr my lost bag, I ended up catching a train to Bern so that my colleague, Roberto could collect me at the station and drive me to Murten, and the village where I was staying. This was at midnight. It was freezing cold at -6°C.

So, Monday morning was nice. I showered and dressed in my travel clothes. Having to meet with the factory management team in day-old travel clothes instead of my suit, shirt and tie is not the best way to create a positive impression.

The work throughout the week at the Avenches Nespresso factory went very well; I couldn’t have asked for a better time there. Everyone was so helpful and positive. This all lead to me being in a false state of calm and a positive outlook.

On Friday, the last day at the factory, we finished in good time and set off for Lausanne railway station (Roberto driving me) and to catch the Swiss Railways Train to Geneva Airport.

Again, all seemed well. I checked in quite early because of the weather; I didn’t want last-minute rushes.

However, five hours in the lounge at Geneva (thank goodness for the BA Gold Card), before flying to Heathrow. The flight was very late, the bags took almost 90 minutes to arrive at the carousel. It was now, at 23:00, I’d missed my train back to York (the last one leaves at 22:30), so I had to find a hotel.  No chance at Heathrow; they were full of disrupted travellers. They same was true of Paddington.  So I travelled by train to Croydon. But the Croydon Park, Jurys Inn, Travelodge and Hilton hotels were fully booked.
I found a seedy room at that run-down, dirty and in much need of a complete renovation called ‘The Fairfield Hotel’. Yeech!

Early next morning (Saturday), I travelled back to home, in York arriving 13 hours after I should have the previous day. I hope I don’t experience another return journey like that one!

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 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.

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.

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?

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.