Journey's End

In the last couple of months I have had an extraordinary number of business trips to do; Manchester, Frankfurt, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Phoenix. By the end of this list, I was beginning to feel pretty grumpy about just being away from home. Thankfully, I think that this high density travel is over for a while. Hardcore travellers would sneer at my mention of Manchester and Frankfurt, which involved flights but were just day trips. All three of the others were, each in their own way, tremendous fun. Even so, a little less airborne life for a while will be welcome.

Vegas

I am embarrassed to say that I liked Las Vegas and look forward to going there again. There is something so extreme about the degree of tackiness that it is somehow endearing. The MGM Grand, where I stayed, was so enormous that it took me fifteen minutes solid walk to get from my room to the conference in another part of the Hotel.

My introduction to the Red Square Vodka Bar in Las Vegas was interesting. When we asked the way there, one person said "that's a very cool place" and looked at me and the other two brits I was with as though he thought we were too square to enter. Since trying pepper Vodka at least twenty years ago and hating it, I don't think I have had vodka at all until walking into that bar, and so it was a pleasant surprise to find that one of the two I tried was really very nice. By the way - the guy who told us the way was right - a very cool place. For example, they have an ice bar and yes, that means that the bar is made out of ice.

On the way out of Las Vegas on my flight back to Heathrow, I got some lovely shots of the desert;

Phoenix

Another desert destination, where I stayed in the most lovely hotel - the Arizona Biltmore - designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.

There was time for a little fun and relaxation this time, plus a walk in the desert, which was chiefly interesting for the moment when one of our party backed into a cactus, which speared him with several needles - each of which has a tiny barb on the end of it. Our guide spent some moments tugging them out, first with tweezers, and when he got fed up with doing that, he started using a comb, which was rather more effective.

My New Bike

Ooh. Lovely. I have just been out for a little spin on the new machine. Very nice.

Seagull at Bristol Docks

We had a day trip to Bristol over the Easter weekend, braving forecasts of snow. As a teenager living in Taunton, Bristol was the big city where everything must be happening, and I always loved visiting it. Even earlier, when I was little, I got taken to visit the Bristol Museum, and remembered pleasurably tired feet at the end of. So, we set off on the train from Romsey to Bristol - standing room only - for the wallet-stinging sum of £85, surrounded by an amiable crowd of rugby fans off to watch the game in Bath. Bristol didn't disappoint; it has a nice slightly off-beat feel about it, and Tess reliably told me it has lots of cool shops. We even went to the Bristol Museum, which sparked some old memories. For me, the museum itself is as interesting as the things inside it - even the display cases are antiques in their own right. We stopped to eat at a little cafe on the docks, and there was this cloud of seagulls flying into the wind, keeping station right outside of the window while someone threw bread to them.

A fine day for a tandem ride

I woke up, drank too much coffee, and ran around prepping the tandem, then Janice and I set off on a lovely ride through Broughton to Nether Wallop, then back past Danebury ring - not forgetting a stop for a Danish in Stockbridge. Along the way, we saw a white bird a bit like a heron standing in some water - but heron's aren't white. Hmm. I had forgotten that this part of the Test Valley must be millionaire country; lots of very nicely done up cottages, and joggers who greet you by saying 'helleau'... Anyhow; here's the route we took.

A fine stinker

For days, I had been wandering around the house muttering 'I can smell something'. It had become an obsession. I first suspected the drains, then Sam's trainers, then my own BO. I finally noticed that the smell seemed strongest in our utility room, so I went to investigate. At last the light dawned: there, inside the fridge, in its box, wrapped in grease-proof paper, wrapped in a plastic bag and then placed inside another box, was a fine slab of Pont L'Eveque, the first strike weapon of the French cheese armaments division. The insidious pong had penetrated its five containment barriers. Without further ado, we did the only sensible thing, and had it for lunch. What a fine cheese! One funny thing though. I am a lover of the stinky, runny french cheese, but I have never found anything that they go with (apart from bread and crackers). I am left with the conclusion that they are a thoroughbred: meant to be savoured in solitary splendour.

Vienna Market

We found this exceptional market in Vienna - live fish, and enough wasabi nuts to satisfy even the keenest green horseradish fanatic.

Too much of a good thing

This sight of petrified feminine bounty greeted me each morning as I looked out of the window from the Vienna Marriott. All very nice, but there's something about the endless repetition that is somewhat disquieting...