While we don't have any significant offices in England these days, a meeting with Google London brought me from Cincinnati and my West Europe colleagues from Geneva. The plan was fly in Sunday/Monday. Meetings Tu - Th, then Friday as a free day to explore.

I had never been to England before. So this was a trip I was looking forward to. I have seen the history of places like Rome and Paris. But this felt somehow closer to me personally, and so I had been excited at the prospect.

The flight over was one of the easiest I can remember. The flight left on time and arrived on time. In between everything went according to plan. Mostly. About the only deviation was dinner. I ordered the steak. When it finally came out I assaulted it with the plastic cutlery I had been given. I made no progress. The meat was hideous. A rubbery texture that actually made me feel a little sick in my stomach. I succeeded in lancing off one bite, and ate it with difficulty. The prospect of 15 more of those caused my stomach to turn again. So I hit the call button and waited for my attendant.

Now, per company policy on overseas flights, recall that I am sitting in business class. We pay an extra $4000 or so for the flight, and one of the benefits is supposed to be decent food. They make quite a show of it. Real bottles of wine and all that. So I felt quite comfortable in pointing out that the meal was not up to business class standards.

When the attendant finally arrived I could immediately tell she didn't feel the same way. I told her the meat was hideous, and asked if they had any of the chicken left. Her expression was a blank. I guess I was the only one to complain. Not my issue the rest are sheep. For a $5500 ticket I expect something edible. And I wasn't prepared to go the next 8+ hours with nothing in my belly. So she went off to get me some chicken.

Did I get an apology? Sorry the food sucked? Uh, uh. Nothing. In any restaurant above McDonalds I'd expect some kind of remorse at the delivery of substandard food. Not here. I wonder if I ended up eating one of the crew meals? If I did I saved them from a dry tasteless chicken. They should have thanked me!

After the meal (in spite of the meal?) I actually slept after. This is a breakthrough for me. I can't normally get any decent sleep on the flight over. This is why I go the day before. I always need time to recover. But on this one I closed my eyes after dinner was cleared. And while I wouldn't say I slept soundly, I slept in decent fits until I smelled breakfast cooking. Things were looking up!

As we landed, since I was in no particular hurry, and since I always like to mix with the locals on trips like this, I headed off to the trains instead of getting a cab. I had looked this up online and saw that there is a train direct from the airport to a train station not far from my hotel. So I got onto the Gatwick express and began my adventure.

I was actually a little disappointed to find it wasn't much of an adventure! The trains were depressingly simple. The express left me at Victoria station, and from there it was 5 stops on the Circle Line to my stop. Total time was less than an hour. Total cost about $40. I found out later than one of my less adventurous colleagues took a cab. That took him 2 hours and cost nearly $200. Wasn't I feeling clever!

It was a short lived emotion. I got to my hotel and attempted to check in. Note that this is the part of my note where normally I'd say I checked in. Notice the extra word in the sentence above? Yeah. I made an attempt. It was about 11:00 when I got to the hotel. Now I know that rooms aren't guaranteed to be ready until 3, but I've never actually had to wait before. For this one I went to the nice lady at the desk and she gave me the strict party line. I replied that I had just gotten off a flight from the US, that I was tired, and that I'd really appreciate getting one of the early rooms. OK, she said, and I thought things were looking up. Maybe I'd have a 15 minute wait? But then she continued "Why don't you come back in a couple hours and I'll see what I can do for you?" A couple hours? Oh hell.

And that was it. No offer to take my luggage. No free drink tickets for the hotel bar. No free wireless internet code (yes, this is an expensive hotel, which of course means they charge $30/day for the access you get for free at a $30 room in the US. Go figure). No nothing. "Next!"

So I went off to the Café to grab a coffee and pay to get some work done. At this point I reflected on how lucky I was that I was able to get some sleep on the plane. On previous trips I would have been totally beat, and this time would have been torturous. In this case it was simply annoying. I worked for a good 2.5 hours (now 1:30) and thought certainly my room would be ready now. Right?

Actually no. Try back in another hour. So off to the café again. More coffee, more work, and it's 2:45. I was pleased to see I was able to score my room 15 minutes early. What great guys! That's British customer service at its finest. And in fact over the course of my week I would come to realize that in fact that was as fine as it was going to get! I didn't care. I had my room.
I did my normal time zone routine. I hit the gym, lifted for an hour. Ran for a bit, then came back to the room for a shower. After that I felt much better, and went out for a walk. I found a couple local grocery stores, and stocked up on supplies. Water, Coke, snacks, and breakfast bars. I could now survive a nuclear explosion or a week in London!

After my walk I went back to the room and watched a DVD. Anything to stay awake a few more hours! Gross Pointe Blank (one of my all-time favorites now) did the trick. When it finished it was 7pm, which was fine time for me to sack out.

Following the theme of easy travel, my sleep was perfect. I set my alarm for 8am, and if it hadn't gone off I would have slept another couple hours with no problem. Maybe I've just been sleepy lately? Don't know. Generally I have a rough first night of sleep. I'll wake up at 3 totally awake and take 45 minutes to get relaxed again. Not this time. I was out!

Work during the day was OK. I met with my new West Europe partner, Mourad. After we split I went back to my room to do a little more work. I had my Coke, but it was warm. You see, since the hotel was a nice one they didn't have a fridge. They had one of those minibars where if you even look at an item it's charged to your bill. So I couldn't make room for my 2litre bottle. No bother, right? I'll just go to the ice machine that it located on every floor of every hotel in the world. Yeah? Of course not. They don't have them! I don't know if this is a new feature of expensive hotels or what, but they had no ice for me. I decided to go native and drink it warm. It actually wasn't that bad.

That night Bogdan joined us, and we had a forgetful dinner at the hotel sports bar. A burger that was so lousy that we ordered more food after picking at it. The British have a well deserved reputation for the world's worst food. And it seems their talents aren't limited to their own cuisine. They can destroy American food as well.

Day two of work went well. Good meetings, and a nice lunch at the Japanese place on the top of the hotel. Dinner that night was a curious choice. We got a local recommendation for a very nice place. As you all know, I'm not a seafood fan, so I'm always curious to see the place we're heading into. Well, as we walk into this one there is an oyster bar. Not a good sign. And a decidedly nautical motif. Again, not good. They do have meat on the menu, but only 2 or 3 choices. I am somewhat bummed, as across the row is a Chop House that I'm sure does meat very well. But I don't want to kill the party. However when we order it turns out that all 5 of us select from the 3 meat entrees! I make the suggestion to go next door, but we're settled, so we don't. After a second night of poor food (this time at $200/person) I decide that the only food to eat in London is ethnic. Although I'm sure the Chop House would have been better. Still, the company was nice, and the views impressive (at the base of the tower bridge) so it wasn't a total loss.

I think the thing I liked best about the trip was the fact that I didn't have to get up for early meetings any of the days I was here. Each morning began with me waking up at 9:15 or so. A leisurely shower and breakfast, then work at 10. I could get used to this! Maybe I was meant to work in Europe?

Thursday was another decent day of work, and it ended nice and early at 5. I got back to the hotel and John and I - being the only two left - decided to try our luck at an adventure. Several months (years?) ago I got a Anthropological study of English Pub Life. I loved it. I read it cover to cover (do you say that with a pdf?) the day it arrived in my inbox. And since I was actually in England, I desperately wanted to try it for myself. In the bar the previous evening I had gotten two recommendations. Towns that were not far away, both of which were sure to have good local pubs.

So we went to the concierge and asked. Hendley and Maindenhead? Never heard of them! So what does he do to help us? Searches on Google! Hell; I could have done that myself. Probably more successfully. In fact I am sure of it as he came up with absolutely nothing. This was very disappointing. But not to worry. He knew a place we'd love. "Interesting," he called it. Camden Town. For a long while I was convinced it sounded familiar. But then I realized there's a baseball park called Camden Yard, so I guess it was not familiar after all.

As he's giving us directions to the town, he tells us take the first train to station A, then train 2 to station B, then train 3 to station C. Three trains doesn't impress me, but as I looked over his shoulder at the map it sure looked like B and C were very close to one another. "Or we could just walk from B to C" I offered. I was touristing, after all. Seeing more sights is always a good thing. He didn't get it. "Oh, no" he replied. "You see they are on different lines. You have to switch trains." OK. I knew that part. They just looked close. I tried one more time "But they sure seem close, like you could walk between them." No dice. "You see, sir. You switch at station B to the 3rd train." Alright. Sold. I'll switch to train 3. Don't know why, but it's clearly very important to him. 3 trains it was.

Camden town was interesting. A little like the street in Seattle where the freaks all hang out. Only slightly less freaky. We walked a bit, then found a pub that looked interesting. They were advertising 5 bands for 4 pounds. I tried the American approach of shooting past the doorman so fast they think you belong. Lo and behold - It worked! We were in and drinking bitters in no time. Gotta like the assertive approach. The rest of my time there was spent watching others get accosted and pay up with a smug smile on my lips.

The bands were distinguished mostly by being loud. Really loud. I was impressed by this. But was more impressed by the fact that a women at the next table seemed very relaxed while having a conversation on her cell phone. I couldn't communicate with John on the other side of a 4 foot table and she's on the phone. Say what you will, but kids these days have some skills!
We didn't make too much of a night of it since John had to get up early to catch a flight the next morning. I went up and worked a bit more when we got back to the hotel, and spent some time plotting my plan for my day of real tourism. I have to believe I'll be back to London at some point in my life, so I didn't feel that I had to do and see everything. But there were a few must-sees. The Tower of London was one. Big Ben and Parliament another. And anything else a bonus.

I got another good night's sleep and went downstairs to check my route with the concierge. I don't know why I bothered. They were less than useless. I guess they did confirm that my route was a good one, but offered nothing of use beyond that. No matter. I was ready!

First stop was the Tower of London. Trivia question. How do you know that the tourist attraction is not in the US? Answer: when it has been a tourist attraction for 300 years. Not that it's been around for 300 years (this would be enough in the US), but that it's been a tourist attraction for 300 years! That's impressive! And it had been around for 700 years before the tourists started flocking. In fact, it was still being used housing and harming prisoners even as it was attracting tourists. It was an impressive sight. Honestly, anything 1000 years old that's still standing must be. But on top of that the stories were impressive. 300 prisoners had been condemned to death there. But when the dug up those killed to give them a decent burial they found 1500 skeletons. Oops! Where the other 1200 come from? These guys were not shy.

The other interesting part of the tour was they spent a significant portion of the space on a multiple room explanation of the gunpowder rebellion. It seems a few hundred years back a group of religious extremists plotted an act of terrorism against the government. Sounds like today, eh? They were to kill the King and Queen and most of the Lords. The most interesting thing was the terrorists themselves. Those religious terrorists who would kill in the name of their heinous god? Yup - Catholics. Gotta love that.

I spent several hours here. Much more than I had planned. But eventually I realized that I couldn't spend the entire day in one place, so I moved on. I hopped another train and got to Big Ben/ The London Eye / Parliament / Westminster Abbey / 10 Downing street. Quite a few sites in a very packed area. It called forth a reference about the English Royalty from the recesses of my mind. Can't even remember when I read it. It said the main purpose of the monarchy was as a tourist attraction. It really hit home there. It was really like I was in the world's oldest theme park. A very odd feeling. But it reinforced the feeling I had at the Tower. At the end of the tour the Beefeater (the Gin-free variety, unfortunately) who was our guide was thanking us for accompanying him. And as people walked out they were offering him tips. I expected him to refuse them. He is, after all, still on active service. He was chosen for his post after 25+ years of active service in the armed forces. But instead of refusing it was "Oh and thank YOU very much sir!" It's just tourism. Oh well. It was still impressive.

I got back to the hotel and still had my last evening. But I was alone. My initial impulse was to pop in a DVD and get room service. But I fought that back. I was going to be adventurous. So I relaxed for a bit, then headed down to the concierge. Why bother? Good question. Here's exactly what I told them: "I'm looking for a pub with decent food and good beer. It doesn't matter where in the city it is. I've got an all-day rail pass and plenty of time to kill." So - where do you suppose they sent me? No, no, after they suggested the hotel bar. Where? To the pub at the end of the block! ADVENTURE indeed. Ah well. I didn't want to wander aimlessly (well, any more), so I gave it a shot. After about 10 minutes there I remembered why I don't do this. Excepting my brief conversations with the wait staff "Another beer please." I said not a word to anyone there. Not a howdy to the couple to my right. Not a 'sup to the boys on my left. Nothing. I drank 3 beers and at my pasta in complete silence. I'm pathetic. I should have just watched a movie!

When I got back to my room I started to pack. My flight was at 10, and it took an hour to get to the airport. So I'd have to leave the hotel at 7 to be there the prescribed 2 hours early. I didn't want to have to do anything in the morning but wake up, shower, and go. I got packed, and set 2 alarms plus a wake-up call. This is my total panic scenario. I have been known to oversleep. And I am always terrified that I'll do it the night of a return flight, and that I'll be stuck in the country for another day. So I set up multiple wake points to relax myself so I can sleep.
I should have saved my effort. I work up in a panic at 1:30 (yes - after 90 minutes sleep). I looked at the clock, saw it was 1:30, added 5 hours since I was in Europe, and realized it was 6:30. DAMNIT! None of my alarms had gone off. I was luck to be awake. I needed to get going immediately!!!! I sprinted to the bathroom.

Once I got there it slowly dawned on me. The clock said 1:30?? But the clock is on the TV. It's part of the hotel. It's on local time. It really is 1:30. Oh hell. My heart is going 120 and I'm supposed to be sleeping still. Oh this is going to be a long night. I woke up again at 2:15. Then at 4. At this point it was light outside, which is always good for inducing panic. But no, still nowhere near time to get up. Finally after 2 or 3 more starts my blackberry alarm goes off. OK. Honestly at this point I'm happy to be awake. It wasn't like I was getting much out of lying in bed and bursting up every 20 minutes or so.

Funny thing was my panic was well earned. Of my 2 alarms only one went off. And the wakeup call never came. Love that British service!

The morning went exactly to plan. I got up. Showered. Did the last minute packing, and headed off for the station. Even at this hour the train was the fastest way to the airport. And 1/4 the cost of a cab. I got to the station, bought my ticket, and went to the platform. There are two lines that come to that platform. Circle (my line) and Wimbledon. The first train was a W. And the one after as well. When the third W train pulled up I started to get a little worried. I happened upon a worker and asked about the circle. "Oh, it's not running today" she replied very nonchalantly. Um, OK. But then how do I get to Victoria station? Easy enough! Train 1 to station A, 2 to station b, then 3 takes you to Victoria. Hoo boy. Good thing I practiced this routine previously in my trip.

I knew I'd get there fine. But the extra trains were costing me time. I was starting to get worried that I'd be tight on my flight. I had no worries about missing the flight, but I didn't want to be hassled when I arrived - "Yes, sir. I know your flight doesn't leave for 90 minutes, but you're supposed to be here 2 hours early and we've given your Business class seat away." That sort of thing. I made the best time I could, and got to Victoria just in time to miss the 7:45. No biggie, I caught the 8:00 and was on my way.

Since I had time to kill, I checked into my blackberry. I did stare at the countryside for a bit, but it gets repetitive. So I connected I checked in. And what's the first message a see? From Delta Airlines. And what do you suppose the odds are that it was good news? Slim? None? Yup. My flight has been delayed 2 hours! And the message hadn't been sent until I was already on the train. So all the panic of the previous evening? The early rising? The rush? All for nothing. I was not happy. But - what can you do? You can't even really yell at anyone, as whatever caused your delay is not the poor soul facing your wrath. So I slipped further into my iPod and waited to get to the airport.

When I arrived I went to check in. I knew I'd be waiting a while, but wanted to get security over with. At check in the guy asks if I'm checking any bags. No; I reply. I never check bags. Even for a week in Europe. If I can't fit in in my carry on I don't need it. "Well then, how many bags are you bringing on board?" Just the one I say, pointing to my carry-on. "What about your backpack?" he asks. Well, that doesn't count as a bag, does it? Like a ladies purse doesn't count? It's always one bag plus a small tote. And it is. Just not at Gatwick. But don't worry. Just cram your backpack into your carry on, get it through security, and you can take them apart after. Well gee, normally I'd be too rushed to do that. But since you guys have been kind enough to delay my flight 2 hours I guess I can spend 15 minutes re-packing everything.
It takes a while, but I get it crammed in. Off to security I go. And what's the first thing I see when I get there? One of those 'size-wise' bag grids. You know - the things that determine if your bag is too big. And naturally, since I had crammed my entire backpack inside, it now was. So back to check in I go. I can't believe what this would have been like traveling coach. Their check in line was 45 minutes long! And I would have had to have come through it a second time. Not good. That thought was the only thing that kept me from yelling at the idiot with the clever suggestion my last time through. I repacked everything *again*, checked my carry-on (guess I need a new name for it now), and headed off to security.

Security wasn't bad. Everyone got patted down, but nothing crazy. And since I'm in business class I can use the crown room. But you want to know how shitty the Gatwick Delta Crown Room is? They don't have wireless internet. But you know what's even worse? They know the code to the wireless in the Emirates lounge (the signal is strong enough to reach them) and they happily hand it out to their customers!! I make a mental note to check the chips on board to see if they stole them from Emirates. Wouldn't put it past the cheap bastards!

We got called at 11:30, and went off to board. No problems with luggage any more. They took care of that but not letting anyone bring any on board!! But after I got into my seat the dreaded announcement comes on. Yup, delayed again. No pilot. Curse them! We finally get into the air about 1:00. Fully 4 hours after schedule. But you know what the funny thing is? With media reports of travel nightmares I actually am relieved. They have successfully lowered the bar on us.

Maybe Mom is right. Does Greyhound go to Europe?