No time:
Happiness is buying the latest marketing book.
Happiness is also having a successful meeting with the bank manager, a successful meeting with a client and actually achieving quite a bit today.
Happiness also comes in the form of wasting time on silly games and actually seeing the transit of Venus (with the aid of a welding visor).
Time for one of those overseas blogging monologues. I know how much you all love them (go on! tell me how much you love them!).
I’ve just boarded a train from Angers St Laud to Paris Montparnasse, my first experience of the TGV. The train is reasonably busy, perhaps 75% full, but there is only one stop between here and Paris, at Le Mans. It’s reasonably spacious, and the lack of bulky headrests means that it is easy to peoplewatch – the girl to my right who is trying to sleep whilst wedging her enormous black handbag against the back of the seat in front of her, the bloke to my left who is sitting in the window seat that I reserved (I’m not sufficiently confident in my French to remonstrate with him, and besides, it’s easier to get up for the loo or the buffet from here – and I can still see the world zipping by), the young infant in his carrychair a few seats towards the back of the train who is cuddling his toy rabbit and quietly absorbing the constant stream of information that is the world around him, whilst his twin sleeps soundly in the next seat.
Thankfully I’ve come equipped with my bag of Maynards’ Wine Pastilles and a bottle of Waitrose Still Scottish Natural Mineral Water, as this train is about half a mile long (no exaggeration), and it would probably take me fifteen minutes to walk as far as the buffet/bar. All very English of me.
The train takes corners at very high speed, with the consequence that my laptop slips dangerously from one side of the little table to the other, so excuse any pauses in the narrative as I clutch hold of it to prevent it falling to the floor.
Why am I in France? Well, I’ve been here for two reasons – firstly to visit a famous and very old nursery company near Nantes, and also to attend and lend consultancy and support at a European Union Plant Variety Rights appeal hearing at the Community Plant Varieties Office in Angers. Yes, that last bit does sound exciting, doesn’t it? But, believe me, it was in fact very interesting and useful, even though we lost the appeal (we had only rated our chances of success at around 1-2% prior to the meeting, but reckon that we increased that to 20% by making a very well-argued, substantiated and convincing case during the hearing – we believe we were defeated only by a majority decision of the members of the panel rather than a unanimous one).
The "we" in this journey has been myself and David, who is a septagenarian plant breeder and fervent supporter of PFE (and the appelant), along with his wife Rosemary. As they are now travelling on for a short holiday in the upper Loire valley, I’m travelling back by train, plane and automobile (in the form of a coach) to dear old Blighty and the arms of Hels, who I have been missing like mad.
They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but we have been finding these separations (this trip, Hels’s recent trip to Vienna and her forthcoming week at a conference in Florida) to be quite painful, punctuated only by long (and expensive) phone calls telling each other how much we love each other and how much we miss one another. I’ve received the odd complaint of being a bit too soft and soppy in my writings on this site recently, so I won’t go on about it too much. It may just be because our love is still very new and extremely intense and not a little fraught with the worries of trying to sell our homes, find a home together, arrange a wedding and deal with the stresses of everyday life, but it certainly makes us value our time together more than ever. The time when "home" means our home together can not come soon enough.
I’m not sure how fraught this journey will be. According to Le Figaro this morning, Paris promises to be a hellish place today as umpteen gazillion police, soldiers and special forces secure the city for George Dubya’s state visit to mark the sixtieth anniversary of D-Day. I have to get from Montparnasse to Charles de Gaulle airport (assuming it hasn’t fallen down entirely). There is a coach service from Montparnasse, but I wonder if it might be delayed. I had planned to spend a little time exploring the Montparnasse area, having never visited Paris before, but if it appears fraught, I may abandon that idea.
We’re just coming into Le Mans. Interestingly, the conductor, in his announcements, puts the emphasis on the "Le", not the "Mans". Since it appears that nobody wants this seat, I may rummage around and find my headphones for a little audio entertainment between here and Paris. I bought a very cheap (three euro) CD from a second hand store in Nantes which is very good aside from a scratch that makes the first track unplayable (hence the low price, I guess), and I still haven’t had a chance to listen to it all the way through.
Anyway, a few non-work highlights of this trip:
As David and Rosemary were very much in holiday mode on this trip, it allowed me more time than I would normally have for exploring my environs. Normally when I travel abroad for conferences and exhibitions, usually with David’s son Mike (also a plant breeder), there is little time for R&R, as we generally try to pack in as much work value into our time as we possibly can. Whilst I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this trip (in spite of losing the appeal hearing), a little voice at the back of my head says that I really need to get more work done (hey! I could be doing it now instead of writing this monologue, but then I do have to keep you entertained somehow).
Hmm. Time for another wine pastille.
How strange. The guards have just come through the carriage, and they seem to be inspecting all the vents for the air conditioning system, peering into them as if they expect some sort of rat or mouse to poke his head out and say "salut!" at any moment. They’ve left the carriage now, so obviously didn’t find what they were looking for, although the activity has woken up the sleeping twin into a wide-eyed coughing session.
Idle thought: do nationalists in Northern Ireland refuse to use the Orange telephone network on principle?
Idle thought 2: what is it with young oriental men and really bad facial hair?
Idle thought 3: I wonder if there’ll be a powerpoint at CDG where I can recharge my laptop, or is that a uniquely American phenomenon? Even the wonderfully well thought out Copenhagen airport doesn’t have powerpoints.
<long pause whilst transferring from TGV to CDG>
Idle thought 4: if, when in France, you dial 15 for an ambulance, 17 for the police and 18 for the fire service, what happens if you dial 16?
Well, so much for having a stroll around Montparnasse. On arrival at the station, the first thing I noticed was the large number of police and armed troops present. A quick amble about the station revealed that the left luggage lockers were closed and sealed due to the security precautions, so I decided not to bother with trying to go for an amble whilst dragging my wheelie case and carrying my laptop. Instead, I elected to board the bus for the airport directly. As the bus hurtled through the streets, we passed a long row of buses laden with police, plus vans loaded with equipment, and then had to pull over to allow a fleet of water cannon trucks to roar past, sirens on and lights flashing. So I reckon that not going for a stroll was a smart move.
It has to be said that CDG (or terminal 1 at least) is the most dismal airport I have ever been in, even more badly designed than Dallas-Fort Worth. The duty-free area is cramped an ugly. The check-in desks are cramped and ugly. The &satellites" are cramped and ugly. There is a chronic lack of seating, refreshment points, signage, colour, light and air conditioning. Infuriatingly, there is a power point next to the seat I’ve found, but I stupidly left my French/UK adaptor in the bag that I’ve checked-in, so I’ll run out of power in about 20 minutes – with at least two and a half hours to kill before the flight. Worryingly, the bmi flight before mine, to East Midlands, has been delayed until around the time that mine is due to depart due to a fault with the aircraft, and I have a sneaky feeling that they might use the plane I’m due to fly on to take those passengers, thereby delaying my flight. I’ve even run out of battery life on my camera, so I can’t play at taking silly pictures. And I have no book with me. I think I’m going to be very bored. Sigh.
Idle thought 5: at what point is the boredom level sufficiently high that your brain dissolves and seeps out of your ear?
Anyhow, time to conserve battery life by shutting down the monitor. I’ll post this on my return (though, if you’ve read this far, you know that already).
UPDATE: my flight wasn’t delayed.
I’m still trying to enrol online with the Inland Revenue so that I can file paperwork digitally. The trouble is that the enrolment process is shit. As I’ve said before, for "security" reasons, passwords are sent by post and not over a secure connection. Since the unregistered post is as secure as your average teabag, I’m not won over by this argument.
Now I’ve discovered that, if there is a problem with your login, you must "de-enrol" (I wasn’t aware that I’d completed enrolment yet, but bear with me), re-enrol and wait for a new user ID and password to be sent by post. This process can take up to ten days.
This whole system is the biggest load of crap that I have ever seen. It is the most user-unfriendly system that anyone could possibly conceive. Pass me the paper – at least I don’t need a password for that.
Sometimes I wonder what life will be like when Hels and I can finally stop stressing about selling flats, buying a home and organising a wedding, not to mention work, family and all the rest. We’ve yet to experience anything that approaches what most people would consider to be "normal life" together. We frequently talk about the prospect of blissful times together, when we don’t have to do anything to a particular deadline, don’t have to worry where we will be living, not have to plan a major event and concern ourselves with the needs and desires of other people – and, most importantly, don’t have to hold those discussions over the telephone because we live 65 miles apart. We can’t wait for those days to come – at the moment, the prospect of those days is all that is keeping me going. Positive mental attitude. Positive mental attitude. Positive mental attitude. If I repeat it enough times, it may sink in and actually work.
[EDIT: actually, that’s not entirely true. What’s keeping me going is a very beautiful, amazing and wonderful woman who I love very much and who I know loves me too. But I didn’t want to say that too loudly in case you all threw up.]
In other news, happy 40th birthday today to Lord Percy. I spent a few hours this afternoon with Lord Percy and Lady Bren, helping to tidy and pack at Percy Towers, as they are moving to the new and more imposing Percy Towers, complete with columns, tomorrow. To say that they are mildly stressed would be an understatement – I hope I provided a little light relief.
And talking of light relief, Elaine over at Little Blue Fox has submitted an excellent new image to the Little Otik photo competition. Go see.
The Inland Revenue has been actively promoting their online filing services for employers’ PAYE. Let me list my complaints:
I’d like to point out that, overall, I find the Inland Revenue’s online filing system to be total and utter crap.
I organise plant fairs as part of my work.
There is one this Sunday at Pashley Manor Gardens in East Sussex. The weather forecast is good, the publicity is definitely working and I’m feeling very positive about it. Come along if you like – it’s only a fiver to get in, including the fabulous gardens.
I sent the application forms to potential participant organisations in late February. They had until 31st March to return them. Plenty of time, you would think.
Why then do some businesses expect to be admitted if they phone up on the Friday before? And, for that matter, try to make me feel bad by saying that they’ve been coming for years (which is true – but then they’ve also expected to come at the last minute before too).
This plant fair is very heavily subscribed with participants – more than would be good if the weather was bad. I’ve already turned away three potential participants because the event is over-subscribed.
I just find it so annoying.
For those who have been following the exciting saga of my faulty broadband connection at work, I now have received a replacement Intel AnyPoint modem and installed it – and I still have the same problem. I’m convinced that there is a driver conflict somewhere, but nothing is reported in control panel, nothing is reported on any online help resource, and I have given up on the BT Broadband helpdesk as a bad job, as it clearly falls outside of their experience and they can’t think outside of the little menu-driven questions and answers that appear on their PC screens in front of them.
</rant>
So I’m just going to carry my dear old Alcatel SpeedTouch "Stringray" back and forth between home and work – it may not be cool, but it works.
<begging>Anyone got a spare Stingray that they would give to a good home?</begging>
BT have finally figured out that they can not solve my work broadband problem by sending pings down the wire to the modem. The modem will send back reports saying that it’s fine. Then, when my connection drops, the modem doesn’t receive the pings. SHOCK!
So, after nearly a week of trying to resolve the problem remotely, they are finally sending an engineer out to test the equipment and attempt to resolve the problem in situ. Far more sensible. He won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon though.
I’ve just called BT support, and the problem does indeed seem to be a fault with my phone line. So an engineer will be coming out to see me at some indeterminate point in the future.
And, in other encouraging news, my account reckons I’m running a tight ship with PFE – to have such a small loss at the end of the first year of trading is, he reckons, extremely good indeed. Of course, we won’t go using phrases like "technically insolvent" around Hels, as she doesn’t like that sort of thing! But since the principal creditor is me, I don’t think I’ll be calling in my debt any time soon.