Well at least almost the correct day, one day early. We went to the Plough and Anchor for a meal. Very good meal. Lashed out on a bottle of Champagne, which I ordered while Rosemary was otherwise engaged.
Rosemary thought the restaurant owner was very rude opening the bottle of Veuve ClicQuot for another table at the spare setting on our table. That was until he poured the glasses and handed Rosemary her glass.
As I thought, I did not get upgraded to business class. The two big wigs did, but we three oily rags were consigned to cattle class. At least we had 5 seats between the 3 of us. Missed eating the supper, was rather too full from ostrich.
Arrived at Heathrow on time at 6.35 AM. Had a reasonable amount of sleep on the plane, I do love night flights, no wasted time in your life. Heathrow immigration area was mobbed with all the early morning flights coming in. It even took us European Union entrants 30 minutes to get through passport control. Then the wait for the luggage and then the bus.
In all it took 80 minutes from the plane landing to me getting to my car. Not really a good travel experience.
Back home to dump the luggage and then into work.
Another set of meetings today. Seemed to go well, but does require us to do lots of work when we get home.
Had supper at the hotel, it was an all you can eat meat place. Ate 10 different meats in all, beef, lamp, chicken, ostrich, quail. The only missing meat was the pork.
Chaos on the roads getting to the terminal, we did set out early in the hope of securing upgrades and also to make sure we were not bumped of the flight. Don’t think we have the upgrades though. The security is very painstakinging. Ended up having to take my belt off. Then my hand luggage was searched, had to power on my PC and sign on. Getting worried they might want me to open up my emails or something.
Still a wait before take off, flight leaves at 1.55 am. No airport restictions here.
Talking about security, very noticeable how concrete blocks are in the road around sensitive areas and hotels.
Had an ordinary flight to Jeddah, arriving at 4.00 am in the morning. Booked into the hotel for a couple of hours sleep. Already nice and warm outside.
Hotel right on the beach, don’t though expect to be getting much swimming this time.
Travelled down to Brighton on Thursday for the PSD all hands day where we were staying in The Old Ship on the sea front. Rosemary came with me and was sneaked into the hotel. No sea view from our room!
In the evening, while Rosemary went out for a curry (the hotel refused to serve her supper), the rest of us were wined, dined and entertained. Actually the hotel food was not really very good, but the wine and beer flowed.
Driving down to Reading for the next 3 days attending an Oracle Application Server and Oracle 10g database course. First course Cedar has sent me on.
Getting down here early to miss the traffic.
We joined the Berkshire branch Cambridge Society for its 7th and our 5th annual weekend, held this year in Derbyshire. The event is always a good chance to catch up with people, an inspiration to flagging grey matter and a challenge to stamina. It was, as usual, brilliantly organized by the dedicated few (Catherine, Peter, Rob and Ann amongst others) and they had laid on the sunshine, too.
We started on Friday in a leisurely manner at Bolsover Castle with our own private “journey to heaven” through the Little Castle. It culminated in two staggering painted ceilings depicting disparate views of heaven. Other highlights some 17th century wall paintings which continued the vaulted ceilings of one room, totally defying the idea of how such people did not understand, nor could paint, perspective. Outside, there was a highly unexpected 17th century indoor riding school and a sadly recently vandalized, slightly risqué fountain. Spent the afternoon at Cresswell Crags, a limestone gorge full of caves. We looked behind the scenes in its museum and enjoyed a tour of one cave and a viewing of pre-historic cave paintings in another. One painting was a very obvious deer, but others needed more imagination/better eye-sight than we had.
Friday evening saw us wined, beered (Catherine, a bioscience consultant, had persuaded the hotel to lay in a barrel of Old Speckled Hen) and dined in our Matlock Bath hotel. Afterwards we were all suitably briefed on the next day’s activities by Catherine and the local geology by Peter.
Saturday, we were at Ilam Hall where we chose to go on a 12-mile walk following the Manifold river, across the top and back down to Ilam via the lovely Dovedale, where we could admire Early Purple orchids. We stopped at a cave and at a pub in Wetton en route and also admired a gorgeous Charolait (or was he a Limousine?) bull at a farm. Surprisingly, both of us could still move the next day and it was good to be walking in such lovely countryside with so few people about.
An inspiring evening talk by landscape archaeologist Mark Edmonds, while we supped on our Old Speckled Hen or G&Ts, made us realize there was masses more to see in the dales and the peak district.
Sunday we had a walking tour, led by the local jailer, of nearby Cromford village, including the jail, and the Arkwright Mill. Cromford, a lovely village, was very much built to support the mill and the first Mr Arkwright had used various cunning ploys to entice his workers.
A brisk walk back to Matlock Bath for a huge buffet lunch and a tour of a lead mine, which was much smaller and less deep than we expected. Quick pan for fools gold and then a retreat to car for the drive back home.
On-line pictures to follow soon.
Visited Newcastle on Tuesday for three days, working on the Farsi project. I managed to get to Gateshead by 9.10 am. without breaking many speed limits.
Took the opportunity to catch a train to Edinburgh on Wednesday evening and met up with Ed and Mary. The excuse was Mary’s leaving drink. She has finished working with Walker/Elevon/Arelon/Cedar. We met for a drink at 7.00pm in the Cafe Royal, went on for a Mexican meal at the Blue Parrot Cantina, then a bottle of Veuve Clicquot at the bar of Jon Marshals best friends, sisters brother in law’s wife’s husbands best friend or some such nonsense.
Finished there for a beer at the mobbed Igloo and finished off in Whistle Binkies at 3.00am Thursday morning.
Able to catch the early morning train back to Newcastle for a full days work, and then drive back home.
Panic set in when I left for Newcastle for Edinburgh, realised I did not have my car keys, so phoned the office to organise a search for them. After organising the Gateshead office to search my desk, coffee room, reception, and calling the taxi company, the keys were found in the door lock of the car.
Today we had a Cambridge Society talk on the Artist Eric Gill, by Nick Wheeler-Robinson. Nick is the owner of the Piggotts house and workshop which Eric Gill last lived and worked in before he died. Eric Gill was an artist, engraver and sculptor and the inventor of several type faces. I see Word on my PC has Gill Sans which is one of his type faces.
Gill’s work reflects his strong belief in both Roman Catholicism and promiscuity. At Piggotts, his ménage included a wife, at least two pupil/model/mistress/muses, and a priest, probably a much needed confessor. Gill seems to have lived life to the full.
Piggotts was bought by Nicks father from Eric Gills family in 1963. The place has been used since to live in, and provide a place where musicians are invited to come and play. From Easter through to November there are people camping in the fields, rehearsing music and then playing it on Sunday. They are a mixture of professional and amateur musicians. This Sunday they were playing Utopia Ltd’ by Gilbert & Sullivan. Next weekend it is the Planets.
After the talk and guided tour of the buildings, we took a walk through the bluebell woods and then had a BBQ in the woods.
I’m afraid we did not listen to the music, leaving just as it started.
The buildings in which Gill worked were old farmyard barns, some converted to strengthen the flooring to take the weight of the stones. The were all very cold and draughty in winter. He had many apprentices who brought in money by engraving grave stones.
We heard a lovely story about a grass roller, made from stone, which had been thought to have been carved by Gill. It had been sold for £50,000 to Leeds University. One of the apprentices (Kindersley) when visiting Nick, after the roller had been sold, said he had carved it as a training exercise. The money was used to purchase 30 acres of woodland adjoining the house.