Traveller’s Tales

I type this post, not slumped on my couch in Sawston but sitting up straight on a couch provided by the Radisson Blu hotel in Espoo in Finland.  Beyond my screen I can see the early evening sunlight dancing on the calm waters of the Gulf of Finland – yes, this is the first GofaDM post from abroad (i.e. overseas, I have not been tempted by gender re-assignment).

It’s a long old trek from Sawston to Helsinki – though to be honest most of that is getting to Heathrow, which was pretty trouble free today (and I even saw some rain at Paddington – who’d have thought that would have novelty value for a Brit?).  Terminal 3 is definitely not one of the highlights of LHR (though the ceilings are not quite as oppressively low as I remember), as whilst very efficient at getting me through security, the seating, flooring, shopping and dining options on the other side were less than thrilling.

Whilst trudging off to my gate, I passed several ads proudly claiming some bottled source of (mostly) H2O as the official water of the 2012 Olympics.  I thought to myself that it would be rather nice if “tap” could be the official water of the 2012 Olympics – the water, even in East London, is quite potable and involves the generation of far less plastic waste.

On the plane, I found myself seated two rows behind a man who was the very image of Simon Russell Beale.  If it were not the fine actor himself, the chap could surely have obtained a rather modest income as a look-a-like – though I fear a doppelgänger for a fine Shakespearean actor probably commands a rather smaller fee than one with a passing resemblance to a minor soap star or reality show contestant.

Finland – or at least the road from airport to hotel – seems lovely.  Lots of trees and lakes and, despite the Cassandra-like forebodings of the MetOffice, warm and sunny.  The locals seem a very friendly bunch (and given my total absence of Finnish – not even in my dishwasher – they fortunately speak very good English).  On the cab ride over I learned more than I could ever have imagined about the business of installing posters at bus stops in the greater Helsinki area.  This business seems to hold out the offer of a job for life – if I could handle the Sunday working (outdoors in all seasons) and the rather long commute.

As I’m writing this from the future (2 hours ahead of old Blighty), I ought to hit the hay so that I can attack my work-based duties tomorrow morning with renewed vigour (as opposed to a similar sounding unclothed prelate) – or, to put it more succinctly (and appropriately) I need to fin(n)ish this post.

If you like, you can think of this as post 99A (rather than 100) – but it seemed a pity to turn down the chance to blog from across the Baltic.  Fear not, my brain is fizzing with bad ideas for a video post – it will come…

2 thoughts on “Traveller’s Tales

  1. Stuart Ffoulkes says:

    No, I have no fear of the integer between 99 and 101 – or indeed of 13 or (as previously established) mentioning Macbeth. In fact, I have arranged an appointment for the 13th hour of Friday the thirteenth of this very month – an appointment which I am trying to hold indoors, under a ladder, with an open umbrella whilst breaking a mirror. I would involve a black cat as well – but I’m not sure which interactions with a sable feline (yay, heraldry is back!) are considered to be lucky and which unlucky.

Feel free to continue the lunacy...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s