first trip to the Continent
Wednesday was a day of firsts, and among the most noteworthy were my first time through Terminal 5 at Heathrow and my first trip to the Continent. Terminal 5 was more interesting than the Continent, but Terminal 3 still has a better collection of Dunhill ties than Terminal 5. At the end of the day I'm not sure where that gets us. I didn't buy anything in Terminal 5 (apart from three bags of jelly beans, which were a pound a bag cheaper than at John Lewis), and I certainly didn't buy anything on the Continent.
It was Terminal 5 to Schiphol, and then an hour and a half drive to Deventer, in the heart of eastern Holland. We stayed in a reasonable hotel with bad lighting and a bathroom that smelled like cabbage. I ate the jellybeans in bed while thinking about getting up at five the next morning. We toured a can factory. The goal of the trip, we learned later in the day, was to begin to understand the difference between two-piece cans and three-piece cans. Two-piece cans are better than three-piece cans. They are cheaper to make and do not have a side weld.
The thing that struck me (in fact kind of appalled me) about Holland was that I did not encounter a single situation or interaction in which my interlocutors did not default to English to engage me. Even signage was in English, to the absence of signs in Dutch. The radio station in the car to Deventer played all English songs, apart from an unfortunate U2 cover in Dutch. Holland from the freeway was Michigan, only with more swans and fallow deer rather than white tail deer. Been there, done that. England is prettier and it is my back yard. Best to keep exploring here before I venture further into the land of cabbage.
That said, I was in Holland for all of 18 hours and did not even get to see Amsterdam. Certainly it would be worth a trip again, but not before France, I don't think, and heaven knows when I'll get over there. The trip has potentially piqued my interest in visiting Norway, but probably in the context of a deal rather than as a holiday, as money is tight, and trying on the gold GMT-Master II at Terminal 5 helped to persuade me that if I have an extra sixty-five hundred pounds kicking around I should probably spend it on an outrageous watch. It would tell time in London and Saginaw, at the same time, without the need for me to do any math at all.
I still have a slight desire to visit Jersey, in part to visit the only NatWest bank branch where I can withdraw money without the need for authorisation from the home office and the only branch where I can deposit money, period, but also just to see what it is like. I've had a fair bit of interaction with BAA's Jersey counsel at Mourant, and they all seem very pleasant. I have to believe that they get to leave work by six most days. It still gets dark at 3:30 in Jersey, though, just like England, and so what's the point, really.
Meg came back to town to give a talk at the V&A and at a conference over the weekend. She was here for Thanksgiving, and we went out with Tom and Charity and her husband and mother. Charity's mom took a photo of Meg and me, and it turns out I have a really big head. I suppose one benefit of going bald would be having a potentially smaller head. I still have a strong fear of baldness.
Stay ever vigilant--
/B/
It was Terminal 5 to Schiphol, and then an hour and a half drive to Deventer, in the heart of eastern Holland. We stayed in a reasonable hotel with bad lighting and a bathroom that smelled like cabbage. I ate the jellybeans in bed while thinking about getting up at five the next morning. We toured a can factory. The goal of the trip, we learned later in the day, was to begin to understand the difference between two-piece cans and three-piece cans. Two-piece cans are better than three-piece cans. They are cheaper to make and do not have a side weld.
The thing that struck me (in fact kind of appalled me) about Holland was that I did not encounter a single situation or interaction in which my interlocutors did not default to English to engage me. Even signage was in English, to the absence of signs in Dutch. The radio station in the car to Deventer played all English songs, apart from an unfortunate U2 cover in Dutch. Holland from the freeway was Michigan, only with more swans and fallow deer rather than white tail deer. Been there, done that. England is prettier and it is my back yard. Best to keep exploring here before I venture further into the land of cabbage.
That said, I was in Holland for all of 18 hours and did not even get to see Amsterdam. Certainly it would be worth a trip again, but not before France, I don't think, and heaven knows when I'll get over there. The trip has potentially piqued my interest in visiting Norway, but probably in the context of a deal rather than as a holiday, as money is tight, and trying on the gold GMT-Master II at Terminal 5 helped to persuade me that if I have an extra sixty-five hundred pounds kicking around I should probably spend it on an outrageous watch. It would tell time in London and Saginaw, at the same time, without the need for me to do any math at all.
I still have a slight desire to visit Jersey, in part to visit the only NatWest bank branch where I can withdraw money without the need for authorisation from the home office and the only branch where I can deposit money, period, but also just to see what it is like. I've had a fair bit of interaction with BAA's Jersey counsel at Mourant, and they all seem very pleasant. I have to believe that they get to leave work by six most days. It still gets dark at 3:30 in Jersey, though, just like England, and so what's the point, really.
Meg came back to town to give a talk at the V&A and at a conference over the weekend. She was here for Thanksgiving, and we went out with Tom and Charity and her husband and mother. Charity's mom took a photo of Meg and me, and it turns out I have a really big head. I suppose one benefit of going bald would be having a potentially smaller head. I still have a strong fear of baldness.
Stay ever vigilant--
/B/