4 Days to pain

It is the 3rd of October. That means in 4 days time I am going to run the Cologne Marathon. It seems that from the discussions I have had with others I should be a lot more nervous than I am.

My training has not gone quite as well as I had planned. Partly due to work commitments and partly due to my lack of commitment to the cause. However, I can run 13 miles. I've no idea if I can run any further because I haven't tried. I'm thinking in hindsight that I perhaps should have singed up for a half.

Oh well, It's done now. At 12.00 on Sunday (German time) I will be setting off around Cologne and hope to return by 5pm. We shall see how it goes.....

Yeah man!

Greetings from Jamaica!

I'm here on business promoting a dictionary we have tailor-made for the Caribbean market. It's a tough job but someone's got to do it. No honestly, having just fought off a throat virus then moved house last weekend, I must say that I wasn't relishing the idea of flying off for a week in Kingston, Jamaica, staying over the weekend in order to get a cheap flight with the prospect of spending the weekend locked in my hotel room due to the advice of my boss to "not leave the hotel alone!" I know it sounds middle-aged and ungrateful but I was actually looking forward to spending this weekend in our flat!

The check-in process at Heathrow only served to fuel my frustration. 1 hour of filing round an inept queuing system, extended families checking in en masse, a 50 minute delay...woe is me! But saviour came in the form of a 6ft Jamaican girl named Siobhan. She was flustered at being last on the plane delayed at check-in because she had two 40kg suitcases which needed lightening! After convincing her that she wasn't sweating, didn't smell and probably could do without that ninth pair of shoes she had had to leave behind, she took me under her wing and we were instant friends.

Flying with Air Jamaica is an absolute must if you want to immerse yourself in the Jamaican culture as soon as you've left the tarmac. I have never known anything like it. Apparently it's the only airline in the world to offer unlimited free champagne. In spite of this, most people seemed to have bought a bottle of duty free rum and happily whiled away the hours wandering around chatting to anyone and everyone. I have never known a group of people so at ease with each other and this was my first experience of hearing patois.

At first I thought they were speaking a different language. I could pick out the odd word and phrase but the rest just went totally over my head. Siobhan gave me a crash course in it but I am also the proud owner of Popular Jamaican Phrases so I now feel that with the following phrases I can get by:
•If I overindulge on the rum in the presence of customers, I can ask for 'mannish wata' to sober me up. (Unfortunately this would mean consuming soup made with a goat's head...also reputed to increase a man's virility!?!)
• Should I wish to alert the attention of people whose name I don't know, I can simply cry 'Peel head' if the guy is bald or 'belly a front, belly a back' if the person has a rather substantial paunch and backside.
There are also some colourful phrases in the book which I'm not sure I would need on this trip let alone ever! If all else failed I could just reply 'Yeah man' to everything.

I was well looked after by the bookstores who gave a very thorough tour of Kingston whenever we drove anywhere. I was shown sights such as the Society for the Blind, the Canadian Embassy, Courts the furniture shop...all the famous places you read about in the guide books!

I was taken for some great meals but possibly the most surreal came after having driven down a dark road in the pouring rain for 40 minutes with the financial director of one bookstore only to arrive at the Jamaican equivalent of MacDonalds; Island Grill. We then conducted a semi-serious meeting only for me to realise that I was eating a fallic fritter called a 'festival' whilst talking to him about his dictionary order.

Unfortunately it rained every day I was there and always in the evening when I might have wanted to swim (or more realistically just lounge by the pool.) Instead I sought refuge in the hotel gym which was in fact just a tent by the pool which leaked a lot! There was never anyone else in there so I had total control over the air con and TV and could also sing to my heart's content with my iPod.

Overall it was a fantastic experience. I met some great people, ate shed loads of prawns, saw some amazing sights(!)...oh yeah, and hopefully sold some dictionaries.

New Beginnings

Hooray!! After a lot of hard work by Anna (and none from me) we are now the proud owners and residents of our new 7th floor flat in Southfields with panoramic views of London.

We moved in on Saturday which was pretty easy because we didn't have much stuff as nearly everything we own is in our house in Essex. Never mind. The Tesco range of value kitchen goods has seen us right and the previous owner left the fridge, freezer, sofa (Which has a lot of stains!?!?) and a wardrobe. These along with our sofa bed have turned it quickly in to a minimalist home. We do lack some major items. Namely a washing machine and a cooker but hopefully these will be sorted out next weekend.

We were greatly looking forward to welcoming our first visitor. However, we didn't expect it to be the TV license inspector. He came to check we didn't have a TV and then sold us a licence for when we do have one (hopefully also next weekend). Our first real visitor was Anna's brother Simon.

The new flat means a different commute for both of us. Anna has cut her journey time down from almost and hour and a half to about 30 mins. I'm now flying in and out of Heathrow which means my days with Stansted are done and I also don't have to fly budget airlines. Oh the joy of having an assigned seat. I will however miss all of my Stansted friends....yeah right.

The Office Summer Party

I am writing this at half past eleven at night on the train home a little worse for wears. I have just attended my first office party...in the office. It wasn't like 'The Office' where you are literally partying around your desks and photocopying private parts. It was held in the atrium which when you look up at the surrounding offices reminds me of a cross between a cruise ship and a shopping centre.

The theme was Carry on Camping. Suggestions please for possible costumes as nobody dressed up. We were all slightly confused by that one. I didn't feel that I had been there long enough to don a Barbara Windsor green bikini.

(I am now resuming this blog at 8:30 the morning after the night before.) The atrium was decorated with 2 open tents, some chairs, sun loungers, a few open umbrellas... and bunting! More village fete/queen's jubilee methinks? Still free food and drink was in abundance as the ground floor cafe was transformed for the event. It amused me no end to see the 3 floor to ceiling fridges - usually filled with healthy (ie, rabbit) food such as cucumber sticks wrapped in leaf of lettuce or selection of dried fruit on a bed of dried muesli and other such mouthwatering snacks - replaced with bottles of Carlsberg!

I don't think I embarrassed myself too much and I definitely didn't photocopy anything that shouldn't be photocopied. Perhaps my most cringeable moment was when I revealed to a large group of people my bitter disappointment at not having won the 'Name Jason Donovan's autobiography' competition after having thought about it all weekend and submitting about 20 possible contenders. My boss felt he had to give me a hug as the rest of the group fell about laughing. There's no need for that.

Flat out

It's been a crazy week. I am the most stressed I've been since I was teaching. The reason....our grand plans to be property tycoons.

Rhod and I decided that we would try to buy a second property - a flat in London that we would live in for a couple of years then sell on and make a fortune!? (Hmmm.) Rhod trusted me to view the flat on my own last Monday and going on my description over the phone gave me the go ahead to place the offer the following day. After some skilful bartering (gained from haggling over books with customers all day every day) we had our offer accepted on a flat in Southfields.

That was the fun part. What follows is the stressful part. Since last Wednesday I have spoken to 5 different solicitors, 1 patronising estate agent, 3 different financial advisors and approximately ten different people from the bank. What a delightful group of people to have to speak to everyday.

I think my conversations with various employees from my bank in a Birmingham call centre have been my favourite. On Monday it took phonecalls from 9 til 5 to find out the fax number to which I needed to send letters from our employers stating our salaries and subsequently to get a confirmation that they had been received. I never actually got to speak to the lady dealing with my application but I was told that she would be phoning me first thing yesterday. After refusing to put the phone down until I spoke to her I was on hold for 51 minutes while she was on another call. One of her colleagues then came on the phone and told me that she had just signed off her computer and was going to lunch. I flipped. I demanded her manager's number ("We can't give out that information madam") and that if she hadn't phoned me by 2 o'clock I would create merry hell. At 2:20 I gave in and phoned and miracle of miracles actually got straight through to her. "Oh hi Miss Finn, how are you?" F#*@ing livid is what I was but I resorted to a pathetic "Why didn't you call?" and continued in a frosty sarcastic tone throughout. I could have throttled her. She then had the audacity to say that she was posting me forms today but they might have missed today's post. I ended with "Well considering this phonecall should have taken place at 9am I expect to see it on my doormat tomorrow morning!" AAAHHHHHH!

Solicitors are just vile full stop (apart from my godfather who seems to have escaped the smarmy deceitful mercenary circle that most of them fall into.) It's the 2 hour lunch break that really gets to me though - enough time for a quick 9 holes and a good lunch. Never speak to them in the afternoons as they are either in a foul mood at having had a poor round or are even more smug at having won. It sickens me to see the breakdown of fees - as if they aren't charging us enough already they also want 35 quid plus VAT for a bank telegraphic transfer fee! What's wrong with a cheque I ask you? Sickening.

I am actually going to have to stop writing now as I am on the train on the way to work and I can already feel my blood pressure rising and am experiencing mild palpatations!

Let the countdown begin

Yesterday - June 21st- marked a year to the day until Rhod and I get married. So effectively it was our minus one year anniversary. I mused at the prospect of how one should celebrate such a day. Maybe someone should take away a paper item you own. Who knows?

I decided to celebrate it by pausing at several points throughout the afternoon and wondering what might be occuring that same time next year. Eg. At 1:10, will I have tripped over my dress in an unceremonious style whilst walking down the aisle towards my future intended? At 2:30, will I have spilt champagne all over me whilst the wedding car pulls away? At 5:00, will we have started eating yet as I'll no doubt be starving as always and in need of something to soak up the drink? At 8:20 will a child have started crying yet because it's been a "long day" and they're now tired and showing off? At 10:40 will my Dad be doing any 'dad dancing'? On that thought I fell asleep.

Who knows how the day will turn out? I've got a year to wait and see. Now where's that piece of paper gone?

Thank you for flying German wings

I don't have as many facebook friends as Anna. I've given this some thought and have come to the conclusion that this is probably a fair reflection of reality. But I do have aeroplane and airport friends and you can't really put a price on that friendship.

I fly Germanwings. It's a low cost German carrier so think Ryan Air or Easy jet but with Airbus planes as the Germans like to keep it local.

I am aware of the importance of advertising in the world. I am also aware that it is important to target your customers. I fly on a Monday morning wearing a suit. So do the majority, lets say 80% to use a completely made up statistic, of the other travellers. We, me and my friends who aren't on facebook, fly from London (yeah right) Stansted to Cologne. When I arrive in Cologne I am "looking forward" to work. I spring out of my seat desperate to get to work (desperate to get through passport control and to baggage claim first). Unfortunately before I am released from the plane I have to take my piece of Germanwings advertising.

The first time I was intrigued. Handed a pink latex thing in a clear plastic bag some strange thoughts ran through my head. On the bus to the terminal the suspense was too great so I ripped it open.

A beach ball! What the @#&* am I going to do in with a beach ball? Cologne, to my knowledge is not even near a beach and is certainly not famous for it's holiday resorts.

So my current collection of Beach balls is as follows. I gave one to my colleague who was going on holiday with his kids. There is one in my bedroom that I occasionally kick around. There is also one in my parents garden. Finally I keep 2 (still packed, obviously) in my laptop bag so that I am prepared for a rainy day/special occasion/emergency (delete as appropriate).

I think 5 is as many as I'm going to get. I can't wait to see the next form of advertising media.