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Has Greece collapsed into anarchy yet? It's a bit hard to care when you're just living an utterly spoilt life in a rather nice hotel in Bermuda.
The only bad thing about the stay is that we have all been so busy writing that we haven't had time to get out of Hamilton -- which is probably the least attractive part of Bermuda.
The flight out on Sunday was uneventful and relatively empty. For the first time in my life I checked in online and printed out my boarding pass at home (something that was rather problematic given the age of my printer - the printer is fine, but Vista often can't manage to talk to it). I thought that I had left home a bit late (11.25am for a 3pm flight), but I was still there in plenty of time. I really must start cultivating the Harrington 'cut it fine' technique a bit more. We aren't leaving for the airport this evening until two hours before take-off. If the flight back is as empty as the flight out, I might actually have three seats to myself and be able to get some proper sleep.
We went to the Barracuda for dinner on the first night and I had two types of beef. After that it was off to "The Pickled Onion" where the soul sensation was iving his all to an empty dance floor. The walk back showed how quiet Hamilton was on a Sunday night:
I was still producing the newsletter this week, and this has necessitated getting up at between 3am and 4am and sending it out by 7am. Monday wasn't so hard; my body clock was still on UK time and I'd prepared a lot.
I also woke up to rain. Bermuda hadn't had any rain for ages, but we were to get quite a lot of it for three days. The temperature still moved barely a fraction (min of about 23C, max of about 26C), so it was always shorts and shirtsleeves weather.
The pool view from my room, part of the main building in the Rosedon.
Monday was also a relatively free day. I had lunch with the Treasurer of one of the reinsurance companies out here and afterwards went up to the office to talk to some of the underwriters. I had thought that Bermuda shorts were mainly formal dress, worn by the police, by staff in hotels, etc. But a number of executives in the insurance industry were also wearing them. It's an odd combination. Formal lace up shoes, long socks, and then shorts of a sensational bright colour (salmon pink and canary yellow were two in evidence) topped by a formal jacket and tie.
Then in the afternoon I did a bit of prep for the following day (the toughest of the trip), had a nap, and then out we went again -- this time to The Flying Fish, quite near our hotel. The food here was very good indeed, but they were rather keen to get rid of us near the end of the night, turning up with the bill rather before we were ready to receive it.
Verity's Nigerian tiger prawn
Graeme's rather overwhelming sushi combination
Also during the meal we had the light entertainment of a waiter trying to catch a live lobster. One of the lobsters wasn't having any of it, and for a few minutes it was a battle of wills that, eventually, the lobster won. Another lobster became the victim.
Tuesday was the only "full" conference day. So, after three hours of producing the newsletter, I had a quick nap before heading over the road to the Fairmont Princess to alternate with Greg our coverage of sessions. In our 'off' bit we would write up the previous session and send the story off to London. After the buffet lunch the pressure was less because the deadline for London had passed. But the stuff had to get written eventually, so we tended to follow the same routine.
The Fairmont Princess from our hotel
The Fairmont lobby
The Fairmont Princess verandah near where our conference was
Birks in conference attending mode
On Tuesday evening we went to Porto Fino, and once again experienced five-star food with service that, er, was not to the same high standard of training. Friendly and enthusiastic would perhaps be the best way to describe it. There would always be one mishap, and this time it was a waiter (different from the waiter who took our order) being totally incapable of giving the right starter to the right person. He wouldn't shout out "Who's is this?" so just put a starter down in front of one person after another until he got it right. I had Red Snapper for a main course and white and black chocolate mousse for dessert. Absolutely delicious.
This was followed by another quick trip to the Pickled Onion, only to see a drunk Liam Gallagher lookalike attempting some karaoke. The two entertainers did a few sixties hits, including 'Satisfaction', and that got a few drinkers onto the dance floor. We stayed too late. I was now getting to bed at the same time as I should be getting up if I was in London. I was getting into synch with local time. The newsletter was getting tough.
The ship had come into port. I'm surprised that such large cruise ships can get right to the quayside in Hamilton.
On the verandah of the Pickled Onion
Returning to the hotel on Tuesday night, we saw the oddest sight. Near the bus stop were about two dozen people sitting on the kerbs with laptops, macbooks, net books, or whatever. It was 2am.
Graeme enlightened us. It was the Filipino cruise-ship crew, and they were taking advantage of the nearest free wifi spot, presumably to skype a phone call home.
Wednesday, and it was beginning to get very tiring, but we had probably got the worst out of the way (as it happened, writing up the Wednesday stuff was surprisingly difficult, and I've only just finished!). I went for a swim Wednesday evening, because the weather was improving.
That evening we went to Little Venice, and I treated myself to pasta for the first time in about six months. A very eccentric restaurant with a wine bar next door that was part of the same operation. The host from the restaurant was a nutter, and his mate from the wine bar was even madder. He would come out with a little toy dog that sang O Sole Mio. Most of the clientele also seemed to be Italian.
The front of the Rosedon
The verandah
Wednesday evening before most of the Informa crew flew back. At last, some downtime.
And so, today it was more writing, with just a break for lunch at Harry's Bar. And now I'm going to spend an hour by the pool before getting the cab to thee airport. Bon nuit.
The only bad thing about the stay is that we have all been so busy writing that we haven't had time to get out of Hamilton -- which is probably the least attractive part of Bermuda.
The flight out on Sunday was uneventful and relatively empty. For the first time in my life I checked in online and printed out my boarding pass at home (something that was rather problematic given the age of my printer - the printer is fine, but Vista often can't manage to talk to it). I thought that I had left home a bit late (11.25am for a 3pm flight), but I was still there in plenty of time. I really must start cultivating the Harrington 'cut it fine' technique a bit more. We aren't leaving for the airport this evening until two hours before take-off. If the flight back is as empty as the flight out, I might actually have three seats to myself and be able to get some proper sleep.
We went to the Barracuda for dinner on the first night and I had two types of beef. After that it was off to "The Pickled Onion" where the soul sensation was iving his all to an empty dance floor. The walk back showed how quiet Hamilton was on a Sunday night:
I was still producing the newsletter this week, and this has necessitated getting up at between 3am and 4am and sending it out by 7am. Monday wasn't so hard; my body clock was still on UK time and I'd prepared a lot.
I also woke up to rain. Bermuda hadn't had any rain for ages, but we were to get quite a lot of it for three days. The temperature still moved barely a fraction (min of about 23C, max of about 26C), so it was always shorts and shirtsleeves weather.
The pool view from my room, part of the main building in the Rosedon.
Monday was also a relatively free day. I had lunch with the Treasurer of one of the reinsurance companies out here and afterwards went up to the office to talk to some of the underwriters. I had thought that Bermuda shorts were mainly formal dress, worn by the police, by staff in hotels, etc. But a number of executives in the insurance industry were also wearing them. It's an odd combination. Formal lace up shoes, long socks, and then shorts of a sensational bright colour (salmon pink and canary yellow were two in evidence) topped by a formal jacket and tie.
Then in the afternoon I did a bit of prep for the following day (the toughest of the trip), had a nap, and then out we went again -- this time to The Flying Fish, quite near our hotel. The food here was very good indeed, but they were rather keen to get rid of us near the end of the night, turning up with the bill rather before we were ready to receive it.
Verity's Nigerian tiger prawn
Graeme's rather overwhelming sushi combination
Also during the meal we had the light entertainment of a waiter trying to catch a live lobster. One of the lobsters wasn't having any of it, and for a few minutes it was a battle of wills that, eventually, the lobster won. Another lobster became the victim.
Tuesday was the only "full" conference day. So, after three hours of producing the newsletter, I had a quick nap before heading over the road to the Fairmont Princess to alternate with Greg our coverage of sessions. In our 'off' bit we would write up the previous session and send the story off to London. After the buffet lunch the pressure was less because the deadline for London had passed. But the stuff had to get written eventually, so we tended to follow the same routine.
The Fairmont Princess from our hotel
The Fairmont lobby
The Fairmont Princess verandah near where our conference was
Birks in conference attending mode
On Tuesday evening we went to Porto Fino, and once again experienced five-star food with service that, er, was not to the same high standard of training. Friendly and enthusiastic would perhaps be the best way to describe it. There would always be one mishap, and this time it was a waiter (different from the waiter who took our order) being totally incapable of giving the right starter to the right person. He wouldn't shout out "Who's is this?" so just put a starter down in front of one person after another until he got it right. I had Red Snapper for a main course and white and black chocolate mousse for dessert. Absolutely delicious.
This was followed by another quick trip to the Pickled Onion, only to see a drunk Liam Gallagher lookalike attempting some karaoke. The two entertainers did a few sixties hits, including 'Satisfaction', and that got a few drinkers onto the dance floor. We stayed too late. I was now getting to bed at the same time as I should be getting up if I was in London. I was getting into synch with local time. The newsletter was getting tough.
The ship had come into port. I'm surprised that such large cruise ships can get right to the quayside in Hamilton.
On the verandah of the Pickled Onion
Returning to the hotel on Tuesday night, we saw the oddest sight. Near the bus stop were about two dozen people sitting on the kerbs with laptops, macbooks, net books, or whatever. It was 2am.
Graeme enlightened us. It was the Filipino cruise-ship crew, and they were taking advantage of the nearest free wifi spot, presumably to skype a phone call home.
Wednesday, and it was beginning to get very tiring, but we had probably got the worst out of the way (as it happened, writing up the Wednesday stuff was surprisingly difficult, and I've only just finished!). I went for a swim Wednesday evening, because the weather was improving.
That evening we went to Little Venice, and I treated myself to pasta for the first time in about six months. A very eccentric restaurant with a wine bar next door that was part of the same operation. The host from the restaurant was a nutter, and his mate from the wine bar was even madder. He would come out with a little toy dog that sang O Sole Mio. Most of the clientele also seemed to be Italian.
The front of the Rosedon
The verandah
Wednesday evening before most of the Informa crew flew back. At last, some downtime.
And so, today it was more writing, with just a break for lunch at Harry's Bar. And now I'm going to spend an hour by the pool before getting the cab to thee airport. Bon nuit.
