On Friday I flew down to London with my brother for my fourth time at The Great British Beer Festival and his first. With myself being low on finances this summer I had decided back in June that I wouldn’t be going this year, but Cousin Iain was kind enough to buy me a return flight, which left me only having to find spending money.
The flight to Heathrow and ensuing journey into London went without a hitch, and after meeting up with Cousin Iain and walking to Earls Court, we met my mate Charlie and wasted no time in getting in there for our first half pint of the day.
Tonight I’m back in the Park Plaza Riverbank hotel in London for a week or so as the project I’m working on enters the final phase. This time my reservation was recalled without question by the guy at reception, my preference for a quiet room was already taken into account, and, for whatever reason, I’ve gone up in the world – from the 9th to the 10th floor.
Turns out that, in addition to the chocolates provided on the 9th, on the 10th floor you get extra stuff left by your sink in the bathroom. I have a comb, a dental pack, a “vanity” pack (I do fail to see the vanity in q-tips, unless clean ear canals is now ranked up there with botox, collagen injections, and a back, sack & crack wax), a shoe polish pack, a little bottle of mouthwash, and a shaving pack to compliment the shampoo, body lotion, and shower gel trio that are regular fixtures.
I’m just back from another stint in London, staying down for a whole week – from Wednesday to Wednesday. It’s good to be back in (almost equally) familiar surroundings, although I was home so late that I didn’t get to see Elisha properly – she was snoozing away when I got in.
At the office down there, work was pretty hard going, with lots of frustrations that led to working later than planned every night. I’d even planned to make a couple of trips to the office over the weekend just to keep some processes running and keep the momentum going, but that came to nothing when I didn’t have the required support.
Still, the weekend wasn’t a total waste – I got to take in the R.E.M. concert at Twickenham after Mike lost, then found the tickets at the eleventh hour. Quite literally, actually – he only called at 11am on the day to say he’d discovered them wedged between some CD cases. Up until that point I’d shrugged off the fact that he lost them, almost convincing myself I wasn’t that bothered, but I was so delighted when he found them!