“Wind in the Willows” not “Toad in the hole”
Work has slowed right down in the past week or two.
As someone that works on the road, I rely on a busy diary to keep me going. When it’s dead, then I get some time to myself, but I also drastically start reducing my earning power. (It’s also allowed me some time to get my CV up-to-date too, but that’s another story.)
This week, even though it’s only halfway gone, is a write-off. As a result, I’ve managed to sneak up North for a few days with my other half. Although she’s at work most days normally, it just so happens that this week she only had two days at work, meaning we could drive up together on Monday and spend some time together today.
The reason for her absence at work is that she was going to an open-air theatre performance of Wind In The Willows (and not “Toad In The Hole” as I keep referring to it). It was a pre-planned visit with her two kids, her parents and her sister and nephew, and as tickets were bought in advance, it has meant that while they have gone to enjoy the show, I’ve been left to my own devices in wandering around Chester.
Her dad wondered aloud if I’d be alright keeping myself entertained for a couple of hours by myself. He’s obviously not aware that I can spend double that time in a Costa without putting much thought into it.
The visit to Chester and the Wirral comes hot on the heels of a four-day stay in London with Mrs DannyUK. Once again we had a great time and I think that we have found our preferred balance between wanting stuff to do and wanting time to lounge about the capital doing nothing.
This year we squeezed in a Jack The Ripper-based bus and walking tour and a visit to see Book of Mormon (both of which I would highly recommend) as pre-planned visits. We spent the remainder of our time seemingly drinking cocktails or coffee (or with an espresso martini, both!) and wandering through the city. A trip to the British Museum and the Bank of England Museum were off-the-cuff, but both were equally appealing.
Unfortunately, though, our hotel had given us a lower floor room, which meant that the windows couldn’t be opened for security reasons. As a result, the room was stifling at times, and the air-con was used for most of the time we were in the room. The knock-on effect seems to have been that it’s made me unwell. Not massively so, but enough that unless I’m knocking back some Beechams every few hours, I start feeling absolutely shattered and sore.
There’s little doubt in my mind that it’s no more than a bit of a bug. I’m equally sure that I will pass it on to all and sundry too. Yuk.
I’m not sure what the rest of the week holds.
The girlfriend is back at work tomorrow, I think, and I will attempt to entertain myself throughout the day. I’d normally take this time to write up some blog posts, but in all honesty it’s a struggle doing so right now, which is annoying.
Hopefully, that will change when I take another load of Beechams.