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Bleurgh; a sore throat. That put paid to swimming this morning, which was particularly annoying as I’ve managed the last four days out of five in a row. Total distance, just under four miles. Not a lot, I know, but we’re getting there.

So, I woke up an hour and a half after the alarm went off, then pootled into the office, somehow still managing to arrive early, which is just as well, as lunch, which I’d been expecting to be a dido do (dip-in dip out do), turned out to be a three hour break in the day.

Very nice nonetheless, as it was at L’Escargot, a war-era eaterie on Greek Street I’ve not been to in ages. The top floor is set out for private dining. The walls are covered in old prints, the roof is a long glass arch. The food is fantastic. I ate truffles for the first time, but can’t see what anyone sees in them.

It was three hours of bizarre conversations, starting out with the guy who said he saves on hiring freelancers by copying content from MacUser (knowing full well who he was talking to), swiftly followed by London’s dullest man, the highlight of whose conversational skills extended to asking if I’d managed to catch much coverage of the Chelsea Flower Show so far.

Apparently the commentary this year is ‘marvellous’.

Hmmm.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 28th, 2004 at 11:22 pm and is filed under Journal, Work. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.