That morning I went straight into the office to work until lunchtime and planned on working from home that afternoon. It seems like I spent the entire flight writing this blog and I didn't get any sleep, consequently I was very tired and when lunchtime arrived I was more than happy to leave.
As I arrived home I noticed a completely intact roof tile on the ground next to my neighbours fence, about 3 feet to the left of my car and a significant distance from the house. I couldn't figure out how it got there and in my extremely tired state I assumed that someone must have left it there and thought no more about it. It was too far away from the house to have fallen from it but who would leave a roof tile in my garden? I was really tired and was obviously not firing on all cylinders.
Walking towards the house I passed the tile again and I had to solve this riddle. I put my bags down and walked over to it. It was a fully intact, very large and heavy roof tile. I took a minute and came to the obvious conclusion that it had fallen from a roof. I took a few steps back and looked up at the roof where, as expected, there was a gap roughly the size of that tile. OK, mystery solved, well almost. How did it come to land several feet from the house? Pointing towards the hole in the roof I traced the path that a falling roof tile might take if it slid down the roof, then slipped off the edge and... bugger... my car was directly underneath that part of the roof. Only then did I notice the damage to the car; a smashed windscreen and badly dented roof. The tile had managed to drop from a 20 foot height, bounce off the car, inflict what turned out terminal damage to the car and land, completely intact, several feet away from the car.
I'd like to meet the guy who produced that tile, it was certainly build to last. Equally, I'd like to meet the guy that installed it to give it back to him and ask him why he choose not to use the traditional method of nailing tiles in place, although after our little talk it may take a team of skilled surgeons a little while to retrieve it.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
VA to Dublin
I was surprised by the lack of traffic chaos around Washington, it felt like a normal weekday afternoon. I dropped the car off in good time and caught the courtesy bus to the Dulles airport departures terminal. I was the only passenger, and as such I had no-one to follow... should I tip the driver? Tipping in the US is something I have a lot of trouble understanding... There seems to be an infinite number of categories, levels and options... some optional, some not, all expected, none negotiable, wouldn't it be easier if the server told you what the tip should be? Is it just me?
I arrived in departures on time, having three bags to check in, one over the check in allowance, could have meant an expensive departure from departures but the check in staff suggested that I carry on two bags. I asked for a seat change suggesting the emergency door seat but they were all taken, she gave me a window seat and told me that the plane was only half full. I took that as I'd have an empty seat next to me, next time I'll remember to ask.
After check in I joined a very, very long queue to get through security. After a few minutes I was asked, along with about twenty other "adult" passengers to follow a security officer. This could be either very good or very, very bad. As a well known UK TV news presenter was among the group I felt we were going to be spared the dreaded rubber glove and were in fact led to a fast track security area. Within minutes we were through and with a smile and friendly word not normally associated with Dulles airport security I was way ahead of schedule. That usually means an extra beer or a little more shopping, but I found myself so far ahead that I had one of each!
Boarding was fast, helped by the fact that I was polishing my second beer as the final call announcement was been made. Fortunately for that beer, airline announcements were not broadcast in the bar and I wandered up to the gate as the last passengers were boarding. Walking down the isle I saw few bobbing heads on my side of the plane, just the way I like it. There's nothing quite like an empty seat beside yours when flying, it's like having extra living room: you can't really use them at the same time but it's great to have somewhere to put extra stuff.
As I was getting my bags organized a I notice a large guy making his way down the isle, he looked like he was carrying a small country in a variety of boxes and bags as he lumbered down the isle muttering on his cell phone so I stepped in to let him pass. To my horror he stopped beside me... we were neighbours, next chair neighbours.
Still muttering into his cell phone he poured himself into his chair. I'm not racist but this guy is no marathon runner. My first thought was how to get out of there? I immediately began formulating plan for escape. I popped my head up and had a good look around with view to switching seats soon after takeoff. To my horror, yet another horror, the flight look full. Did the check in girl lie to me? She was gorgeous so that wasn't an option. Perhaps the next compartment was near empty, there was only one way to find out... as soon as we've taken off I'll somehow get past this beached whale and check it out.
In preparation I tucked my iPod into the book I was reading in case I found a seat so that I needn't return. The fasten seat belts sign remained on for a lot longer than expected, in fact so long that the in flight service started and had arrived at my seat at precisely the same time that the seat belt sign was switched off, what are the chances of that?
The flight attendant handed me a bag of pretzels, more stuff to carry during my escape! He offered me a drink which I had to refuse. I have only two hands and an amazing inability to multitask... I was stretching things by carrying a book, iPod, pretzels and my dignity, adding a drink would have undoubtedly lead to a comedy moment, a moment I couldn't afford.
The mobile bar had both isles covered and they were moving towards the rear, my route was cut off. Patiently I waited for a clear run before making a run for it. As minutes ticked by I couldn't help thinking that any free seats at the back must surely be gone by now. My thoughts were interrupted by quite snoring, my neighbour had fallen asleep. Now I had to wake up this guy to get past him, could it get any worse.
Then I noticed the smell, a musty, damp smell. It seemed to be coming from my neighbour, it was as if he was wearing a suit that had been hanging in a damp wardrobe for years. I just couldn't get past this smell, it started to really annoy me and hardened my resolve to the out of there.
About five minutes later the cabin crew has passed my row and the way way clear. I made my apologies, said I'd be right back and with my book, iPod and pretzels I made to the isle, I was out! I made my way to the rear section of the plane and to my relief, joy and excitement there were lots of free seats. It was like winning the lottery, I had hit the jackpot! This was the best possible outcome, how often does this happen? After checking with flight crew at the back of the plane I settled into my new detached window seat.
After about ten minutes I started to feel guilty. That guy was expecting me back, after all I said I'd be right back. I had to do the decent thing. I made my way back towards my old seat to deliver the good news... "I'm going to sit with some friends and wouldn't be back for the rest of the flight, you've got a free seat next to you" I told him. He grunted which I interpreted as "OK" and I made my way back to my new home. Yes, it was a little white lie but it's hard to tell a 250 pound giant that he smells, that I don't like him and would rather sit in the toilet than sit beside him. He could have turned nasty, and it's a long way down from 33,000 feet!
Thanks to a strong tail wind we landed in Dublin about an hour early. Thanks to Dublin Airport we were stuck on the tarmac for 30 minutes before a stand could be freed up for us. Thanks to baggage handlers we had a 20 minute wait for out luggage. Having arrived an hour early we managed to get out of the airport much later than our scheduled time... welcome home!
I arrived in departures on time, having three bags to check in, one over the check in allowance, could have meant an expensive departure from departures but the check in staff suggested that I carry on two bags. I asked for a seat change suggesting the emergency door seat but they were all taken, she gave me a window seat and told me that the plane was only half full. I took that as I'd have an empty seat next to me, next time I'll remember to ask.
After check in I joined a very, very long queue to get through security. After a few minutes I was asked, along with about twenty other "adult" passengers to follow a security officer. This could be either very good or very, very bad. As a well known UK TV news presenter was among the group I felt we were going to be spared the dreaded rubber glove and were in fact led to a fast track security area. Within minutes we were through and with a smile and friendly word not normally associated with Dulles airport security I was way ahead of schedule. That usually means an extra beer or a little more shopping, but I found myself so far ahead that I had one of each!
Boarding was fast, helped by the fact that I was polishing my second beer as the final call announcement was been made. Fortunately for that beer, airline announcements were not broadcast in the bar and I wandered up to the gate as the last passengers were boarding. Walking down the isle I saw few bobbing heads on my side of the plane, just the way I like it. There's nothing quite like an empty seat beside yours when flying, it's like having extra living room: you can't really use them at the same time but it's great to have somewhere to put extra stuff.
As I was getting my bags organized a I notice a large guy making his way down the isle, he looked like he was carrying a small country in a variety of boxes and bags as he lumbered down the isle muttering on his cell phone so I stepped in to let him pass. To my horror he stopped beside me... we were neighbours, next chair neighbours.
Still muttering into his cell phone he poured himself into his chair. I'm not racist but this guy is no marathon runner. My first thought was how to get out of there? I immediately began formulating plan for escape. I popped my head up and had a good look around with view to switching seats soon after takeoff. To my horror, yet another horror, the flight look full. Did the check in girl lie to me? She was gorgeous so that wasn't an option. Perhaps the next compartment was near empty, there was only one way to find out... as soon as we've taken off I'll somehow get past this beached whale and check it out.
In preparation I tucked my iPod into the book I was reading in case I found a seat so that I needn't return. The fasten seat belts sign remained on for a lot longer than expected, in fact so long that the in flight service started and had arrived at my seat at precisely the same time that the seat belt sign was switched off, what are the chances of that?
The flight attendant handed me a bag of pretzels, more stuff to carry during my escape! He offered me a drink which I had to refuse. I have only two hands and an amazing inability to multitask... I was stretching things by carrying a book, iPod, pretzels and my dignity, adding a drink would have undoubtedly lead to a comedy moment, a moment I couldn't afford.
The mobile bar had both isles covered and they were moving towards the rear, my route was cut off. Patiently I waited for a clear run before making a run for it. As minutes ticked by I couldn't help thinking that any free seats at the back must surely be gone by now. My thoughts were interrupted by quite snoring, my neighbour had fallen asleep. Now I had to wake up this guy to get past him, could it get any worse.
Then I noticed the smell, a musty, damp smell. It seemed to be coming from my neighbour, it was as if he was wearing a suit that had been hanging in a damp wardrobe for years. I just couldn't get past this smell, it started to really annoy me and hardened my resolve to the out of there.
About five minutes later the cabin crew has passed my row and the way way clear. I made my apologies, said I'd be right back and with my book, iPod and pretzels I made to the isle, I was out! I made my way to the rear section of the plane and to my relief, joy and excitement there were lots of free seats. It was like winning the lottery, I had hit the jackpot! This was the best possible outcome, how often does this happen? After checking with flight crew at the back of the plane I settled into my new detached window seat.
After about ten minutes I started to feel guilty. That guy was expecting me back, after all I said I'd be right back. I had to do the decent thing. I made my way back towards my old seat to deliver the good news... "I'm going to sit with some friends and wouldn't be back for the rest of the flight, you've got a free seat next to you" I told him. He grunted which I interpreted as "OK" and I made my way back to my new home. Yes, it was a little white lie but it's hard to tell a 250 pound giant that he smells, that I don't like him and would rather sit in the toilet than sit beside him. He could have turned nasty, and it's a long way down from 33,000 feet!
Thanks to a strong tail wind we landed in Dublin about an hour early. Thanks to Dublin Airport we were stuck on the tarmac for 30 minutes before a stand could be freed up for us. Thanks to baggage handlers we had a 20 minute wait for out luggage. Having arrived an hour early we managed to get out of the airport much later than our scheduled time... welcome home!
PA to VA
I had a fantastic time in Pennsylvania, quality time. Most of it was spent with friends in Harrisburg with a two day trip to Philadelphia to visit family. It wasn't long before it was time to go, head south to Washington and home. It was also the day of Obama's inauguration so to avoid the traffic I decided to take the less travelled US15.
The drive from Harrisburg to Washington evolved from a trivial A to B affair to a complex series of "gotta have a look at that" as I hurtled past an unending string of signs each advertising the must see thing for the next blink of my trip. I gave in far too many times, and more often than not the journey to the promised "must see" turned out to be the best part... rural Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia are stunning and it was a real treat to stumble upon them. Unlike Ireland this countryside has a man made order to it's natural chaos, it feels managed without losing too much of its stunning beauty and to a traveller, in particular one driving on the wrong side of the road, that is very comforting... Ireland, on the other hand is utterly chaotic in it's beauty, natural and man made... one of the many reasons I love to call it home.
I had an invitation to an inauguration party in a DC suburb that I really wanted keep but my frequent excursions off the beaten track and an important shopping list kept me occupied right up to stepping on the plane.
The drive from Harrisburg to Washington evolved from a trivial A to B affair to a complex series of "gotta have a look at that" as I hurtled past an unending string of signs each advertising the must see thing for the next blink of my trip. I gave in far too many times, and more often than not the journey to the promised "must see" turned out to be the best part... rural Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia are stunning and it was a real treat to stumble upon them. Unlike Ireland this countryside has a man made order to it's natural chaos, it feels managed without losing too much of its stunning beauty and to a traveller, in particular one driving on the wrong side of the road, that is very comforting... Ireland, on the other hand is utterly chaotic in it's beauty, natural and man made... one of the many reasons I love to call it home.
I had an invitation to an inauguration party in a DC suburb that I really wanted keep but my frequent excursions off the beaten track and an important shopping list kept me occupied right up to stepping on the plane.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Washington Week
I managed to avoid the treadmill during my stay in Dunn Loring and before I got my act together it was time to change. On Tuesday I moved to the Tysons corner district, a little closer to Washington DC. It was working week and had been very busy. I promised myself to be in the gym a 6am every morning. The next morning I was up on time and made it to the door of the gym by 6.30am but to my horror it was full, there were queues for treadmills and other fitness contraptions. A little disappointed and a little relieved I wandered back to my room to get ready for the day.
That was the one and only visit I made to the gym that week. I had considered running outside but it would have been like playing with traffic, there were few pavements to be seen. Besides the outside temperature was well below zero...
I had taken Friday off and planned on driving up to Pennsylvania to visit friends and relations. A friend had warned me that the term "relations" can have a very different meaning on this side of the Atlantic. When I explained they were family she took a step back and said "where do you think you are? West Virginia?". I didn't get it. I've been to West Virginia and everyone I met there was really friendly. There's a real family feel to the place, and I didn't have to worry about remembering who's who... everyone seemed to have the same last name. Am I missing something?
That was the one and only visit I made to the gym that week. I had considered running outside but it would have been like playing with traffic, there were few pavements to be seen. Besides the outside temperature was well below zero...
I had taken Friday off and planned on driving up to Pennsylvania to visit friends and relations. A friend had warned me that the term "relations" can have a very different meaning on this side of the Atlantic. When I explained they were family she took a step back and said "where do you think you are? West Virginia?". I didn't get it. I've been to West Virginia and everyone I met there was really friendly. There's a real family feel to the place, and I didn't have to worry about remembering who's who... everyone seemed to have the same last name. Am I missing something?
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Washington Weekend
I arrived in Washington DC yesterday afternoon. The flight was good. I worked most of it until my laptop battery died when I knocked out several chapters of Jupiter's Travels. The taxi ride to my hotel was entertaining, my driver worked as a salesman for a telecommunications company and drives part-time. He gave me a guided tour of the route and picked out places to avoid, the only place he said was OK happened to be the location of my hotel.... I wonder.My hotel was in Dunn Loring, about 17KM west of DC. When checking-in my first question was the location of the gym, I fully intended to carry on the good work started on Christmas day. The hotel receptionist offered me a high floor. I like been high up, I feel that I'm getting a little more for my money.... a little more view, a little more elevator. Critically I was right beside a metro station that brought into the heart of Washington DC. I met a colleague and some of her friends that night for dinner and drinks in Falls Church, one of the older towns in that area dating back to 1734. After dinner we rambled across the road to an Irish pub for what I could only describe as a pint of syrupy Guinness. It had a odd taste, kind of sweet as if a sugar laced syrup had been added. I wasn't sure of the first one so I had another to make sure... yep, syrupy!
The next day I metroed into DC. I had to check out a hotel that my brother, who will be visiting the city himself next summer, plans on staying in. As I emerged from the metro station I heard the unmistakable roar of a Harley Davidson motorcycle and to my surprise it was a Police officer. The surprise was that he had a sidecar attached to his machine, it just didn't look right. He had a gun so I didn't make fun of him. I thought it might have been a one off (maybe he was learning how to ride) but it became apparent that it was standard practice there as I spotted half a dozen police bikes with sidecars throughout the day.
The temperature had plummeted over night and the thin jacket I had brought with me was not up to the task of keeping me warm but I carried on regardless. I spend most of the day in Georgetown, I believe it to be the oldest part of the city. It's not big but it is beautiful and you can spend a lot of time pottering around shops and walking the streets. It reminded my of San Francisco on ice. I got my hair cut in a small barber shop owned by an ex Vietnamese Navy seaman. He felt we had a lot in common, I was impressed with his knowledge of Irish history as he occasionally referred to it and drew parallels when explaining what happened to his own country.
That night I ate in a restaurant that looked good from the outside. Sitting down I noticed about a dozen police officers finishing their meals on the other side of the room. I thought it can't be bad then and I wasn't disappointed. It took them a long time to finish, I must have been there an hour and they were still there when I left... some things are truly global!
Thursday, January 01, 2009
New Year
It's new years day and I have no new years resolutions! I should...
- Run 100 miles every month
- Get my weight down to less than 80KG
- Get on top of my taxes, expenses, etc.
- Drink less coffee
... but I'm making NO promises!
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