I sit here writing this blog from a hotel room on the sixth floor located in one of my most favoured cities - Glasgow.
I had been angling for this position for some weeks and when the manager of the project rang my number to inform me I was required for four day's work in the centre of Glasgow - I couldn't help but feel the glow of success and that nice feeling that is called pride. Paid to work in Glasgow!!! It doesn't get much better than that.
On the Monday morning I took the train to Southhampton airport. This is a small airport and these are the best. Flying out of Heathrow you will need to be at the airport two hours before departure. This airport required only half an hour's processing time.
The plane boarded was a Bombardier Dash 8 aircraft - a plane with short take off and landing capabilities.
I was seated next to a little old lady and I noticed straight away her bright sparkling eyes. The flight lasted just over an hour and the little old lady and myself seemed to click. She was fascinated by my odd life in a caravan and she told me of her story, moving to Swanage to be with her husband but never really enjoying the area. She was to visit her daughter in Glasgow. As is usual with these encounters with strangers in transit - you speak and share and then say goodbye never to meet again.
I caught a taxi to the hotel. The cab driver was a very chatty fellow with a deep Glaswegian accent. I found myself asking him to repeat himself on a number of occasions - my ear struggling to tune into the cadences of the accent.
The hotel is decent enough with a television and kettle. I thought the bathroom was rather odd - it is a module plugged into the corner of the room. So it is really a budget hotel room and these are fine so long as they are clean and the bed is comfortable. I opened the window as far as I could - but these hotel windows always have a bracing mechanism permitting only a few centimetres flow of fresh air.
The next day I got myself ready and took another taxi to the office on the High Street to meet the project manager. We went to a cafe and formulated some email responses and then he informed me that the project was not yet ready for me to complete my tasks. I was to be on standby. So I returned to the hotel room. It is a strange life - to be paid to sit in a hotel room in Glasgow without anything to do. This is very unusual and normally I have to work hard for my invoice. Something else is rather unusual also - it has yet to rain here in Glasgow since I arrived.
Peace to All
I had been angling for this position for some weeks and when the manager of the project rang my number to inform me I was required for four day's work in the centre of Glasgow - I couldn't help but feel the glow of success and that nice feeling that is called pride. Paid to work in Glasgow!!! It doesn't get much better than that.
On the Monday morning I took the train to Southhampton airport. This is a small airport and these are the best. Flying out of Heathrow you will need to be at the airport two hours before departure. This airport required only half an hour's processing time.
The plane boarded was a Bombardier Dash 8 aircraft - a plane with short take off and landing capabilities.
I was seated next to a little old lady and I noticed straight away her bright sparkling eyes. The flight lasted just over an hour and the little old lady and myself seemed to click. She was fascinated by my odd life in a caravan and she told me of her story, moving to Swanage to be with her husband but never really enjoying the area. She was to visit her daughter in Glasgow. As is usual with these encounters with strangers in transit - you speak and share and then say goodbye never to meet again.
I caught a taxi to the hotel. The cab driver was a very chatty fellow with a deep Glaswegian accent. I found myself asking him to repeat himself on a number of occasions - my ear struggling to tune into the cadences of the accent.
The hotel is decent enough with a television and kettle. I thought the bathroom was rather odd - it is a module plugged into the corner of the room. So it is really a budget hotel room and these are fine so long as they are clean and the bed is comfortable. I opened the window as far as I could - but these hotel windows always have a bracing mechanism permitting only a few centimetres flow of fresh air.
The next day I got myself ready and took another taxi to the office on the High Street to meet the project manager. We went to a cafe and formulated some email responses and then he informed me that the project was not yet ready for me to complete my tasks. I was to be on standby. So I returned to the hotel room. It is a strange life - to be paid to sit in a hotel room in Glasgow without anything to do. This is very unusual and normally I have to work hard for my invoice. Something else is rather unusual also - it has yet to rain here in Glasgow since I arrived.
Peace to All
I always wondered why hotel rooms refrain us from opening the windows... makes me feel claustrophobic! Thanks for the post, you DO have an interesting life!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comment Samuel. I suspect the window bracing is for insurance purposes - to stop folks falling out. Or maybe to make it harder for people to smoke cigarettes out of the window.
ReplyDelete