write.as/jonbeckett

I commented recently that I had fallen off the blogging horse. The months of daily posts came to a crashing end, replaced with television, books, video games – anything but writing. If this “not writing” thing is a hole in the ground, it still feels like I’m in it. I’m not so much struggling to get up – more gazing at the wall as you might when you wake on a morning – knowing you need to get up eventually, but not quite summoning the will to do so for the moment.

Of course it doesn’t help that it’s been so hot here recently. It rained pretty consistently for the first several months of the year, and then switched to “second sun of Krypton” mode. This appears to have created perfect conditions for the insect world to have something of a baby-boom year. I’m sitting in the junk room writing this, and have just lit an incense stick to hopefully dissuade mosquitoes from adding me to their menu for the evening.

I feel like I’m in limbo at the moment. I was in Germany last week with work, I’m home this week, and I will be back in Germany next week – staying at the same hotel as usual, going through the same routine as usual. I will fly out mid-morning on Monday, get up ridiculously early each day while on-site, and then fly home on Friday.

One of the curious benefits of traveling recently is I’ve finally started finding time to read again. I used to read all the time – we have bookshelves dotted around the house filled with evidence (because who on earth gives books away?) – everything from Douglas Adams, to Charles Dickens, Tolstoy, J K Rowling, Robert Heinlein, and countless more. I still prefer reading paper books, but also appreciate how easy the Kindle is to carry with me while traveling. The Kindle is dangerous too though – within moments you can buy any book you like – and another – and another.

With books, hot summer evenings, and burning incense sticks in mind, you’ll excuse me if one of the reasons for not posting quite so often is because I have my nose in a book.

Yes, I know I haven’t posted anything for several days. Since returning from Germany, everything has been ever so slightly mad. I got home late on Friday afternoon, threw my clothes in the washing machine, and then sat down with the children to watch a movie and down most of a bottle of wine – which rather unsurprisingly wiped me out after a week drinking water and fruit juice in Germany.

Early on Saturday morning I dragged Miss 17 out of bed, and headed into London. I had promised her a day out after the horrendous few weeks she has been through. While I’m not going to write about anything specific, I think it’s fair to say she’s learning a lot about friendship, and relationships. Unfortunately she’s learning everything the hard way, because (through no fault of her own) she found herself surrounded by quite the most poisonous, manipulative, jealous, and untrustworthy circle you might ever imagine. Yes, I’m biased, but when you see your daughter falling apart yet again – all because she placed trust in people – every instinct tells you to step up to bat for her.

We visited a comic book store called “Forbidden Planet” – perhaps the biggest in the country – on the promise that I would buy some Manga books for her. You know that thing about giving teenagers an inch, and they take ten miles? Yeah – that. It was an expensive day. Probably worth it though, because throughout the day she smiled and laughed more than I remember in quite some time. It was like having my daughter back.

Sunday (today) has been more of the same. I gave my other half a morning off, and took the younger children clothes shopping in a nearby town. I was supposed to be taking all three children, but Miss 17 didn’t get up – I’m guessing our London adventure used up several days worth of energy in one go.

We went to a famous low-cost clothing store that most of the nation’s teenagers buy their wardrobe from. I gave my daughters money and a bag each, and let them loose. Miss 14 vanished into the store like a rat up a drainpipe, and Miss 13 stayed with me – I ended up suggesting several items of clothes – or rather, steering her towards practical, pretty clothes that would actually suit her.

I don’t mind admitting that by the time we got home again early in the afternoon, I was running on empty. I still am now. I ordered Dominos for dinner – for the first time in months, and the kids magically appeared from every corner of the house. It’s funny how that happens.

I guess the main aim for the evening will be not stress too much about returning to work in the morning. Deep breaths.

Another week in Germany comes to and end. Another three day development sprint, working like a lunatic while the project owners test, make changes, and call various people in to discuss ideas. I guess this has been my first real experience of “Agile development” – where you release early, and release often. In the “real world” you might draw parallels with building a house before the architect has put pen to paper. It’s interesting, scary, and requires an awful lot of trust in the developer.

I’m sitting in the hotel room again tonight – I grabbed a ready-made salad from the supermarket after work, and ate it in my room. I’m sure the house staff at the hotel will be pleased with the collection of empty plastic bottles in my room in the morning – you can claim a refund for recycling bottles in Germany.

I will admit to being distracted this evening – while away, the wheel fell off the wagon at home last night – resulting in a lengthy email from my other half requesting that something change – either my continual travel with work, or my job. It is getting a bit ridiculous – I’m missing so many moments in my children’s lives – awards, performances, parents evenings. Of course I try to make it up to them, but there’s no substitute for being there. It’s also not fair on my other half when the kids kick-off, and she has to deal with it all. I imagine many families face the same struggles – it’s not fun.

While here I have been getting up at 6am each day, and making it down for breakfast by 6:30 – slightly insane, I know. You can imagine how shocked I was this morning when I arrived in the hotel breakfast area to discover perhaps a hundred people fighting over anything and everything available to eat and drink. The eggs had all gone, the orange juice had gone, the bread rolls had gone, the yoghurt had gone… it was ridiculous. I grabbed a handful of small pastries, a glass of apple juice, and what was left of the bacon – of course bacon makes everything better.

On the television behind me in the hotel room, the World Cup is on. I might turn it off in a moment – England just went behind against Belgium, which isn’t unexpected. We talked about both the German and England football teams in the office today, and agreed – they are fit, strong, and fast, but lack the talent players so many of the great teams have. While tonight’s result doesn’t really matter, I can’t see England getting any further than the last 16. Is that unpatriotic? Perhaps. Is it being a cynical realist? Absolutely. There was already talk in the British press this week about England winning the World Cup – this happens every time. I imagine tonight’s result will cause the back pages of the tabloid newspapers bought by legions of idiots to castigate the England manager (of course, after writing this, it’s inevitable that England will equalise, and this entire paragraph will become a footnote in the idiocy of the World Cup).

Anyway… it’s hotter than balls here. I’ve had the hotel room window wide open all week, because there is a lovely atrium outside with trees, and birds flying around. I may give in tonight, close the window, and switch the air conditioning on.

Maybe I’ll finally get around to reading a book tonight too – last night I made it about three pages in before falling asleep, and woke in the early hours with the Kindle stuck to my face.

Very few words this evening, because it feels like I’m running out at the moment (of words, I mean). Perhaps an early night, a good book, and a long sleep will change my mood somewhat.

One more day in the office, then I fly home on Friday morning. After talking to my other half, the weekend is almost certainly going to be about putting Miss 17 back together again.

We’ve been here before, haven’t we.

I spoke to her on the phone earlier, and talked about a trip to the comic book store in London with some unexpected pocket money. Covent Garden, Manga and Sushi may be just the distraction she needs from life continually dumping on her.

It’s funny really, isn’t it – no matter how much our children might disappoint us with poor decisions, if anything at all happens to them, we walk straight into the batting cage for them, every damn time.

Today was a long day. I woke a little after 6am, scraped myself out of bed, had a shower, got dressed, and wandered down to the breakfast area in the hotel. I got downstairs a few minutes before 6:30, feeling rather proud that I would be one of the first hotel guests down there, and would have relative peace and quiet for the next half hour at least. I obviously didn’t figure on the twenty or so Chinese people fighting over cutlery, bread rolls, bacon, scrambled eggs, yoghurt, coffee, and whatever else they could fit on their plates.

I’m still not drinking tea and coffee, but at 6:30am this morning I was sorely tempted. I made do with orange juice, and cleared email on my phone while picking at a rather badly constructed bacon roll. I think hotel breakfasts might possibly be the most expensive subsances in the known universe – at least unless you take the “all you can eat” offer as a challenge. At some point over the years I stopped eating breakfast, so it’s something of a novelty when I stay away with work.

By 7am I caught myself scrolling through instagram at the breakfast table, and decided to go on a bit of a walk. The hotel is about a mile from the “Romerberg” – the historic (read: reconstructed, and very fake) part of the city, so I set off along the river with no particular plan in mind. Along the way I dodged the early morning cyclists and runners – fascinated at the different way people run. On the way back an old man came flying past, only to walk for a minute, and then charge off again – I think that’s called “fartlek training” (Swedish for “Speed Play” according to Google). I was mightily impressed with his turn of speed.

Here’s the thing – I thought I wasn’t due in the office until 9am. It turns out that was a miscommunication. When I finally rolled in, even the receptionist remarked that the staff had been looking for me half an hour earlier.

Nine hours later, after a mammoth coding stretch at a conference room table while wired up to a giant screen, I left the office, got changed into something more fitting for the ridiculous evening temperatures, and set out in search of something to eat.

Before this visit to Frankfurt I had been promising to explore on the other side of the river – where many of the more popular cafes and restaurants line the road. I didn’t make it that far, on account of being hungry, tired, and suffering from “can’t be bothered” syndrome. I ended up at the Japanese restaurant I’ve visited several times before – mostly because it’s nearby, fast, and not too expensive.

I’m wondering if tomorrow night might be a write-off too. Germany play in the World Cup tomorrow afternoon, so not only will all work grind to a halt, I imagine the cafes and bars will be full of drunk idiots by the time I emerge from the office. Maybe a salad from the supermarket might be a good idea.

After leaving the restaurant, I wandered along the riverbank to a riverside bar, joined the quite lengthy queue, and found a table to sit at with a rather large glass of german beer. I had planned to read a book while sitting there, but ended up just watching the world go by. Looking around, it struck me that I really was the only person there on my own – everybody else was either with friends, or loved ones. It’s surprising how quickly you can feel alone in the busiest of places. I read the news on my phone, finished my drink and wandered quietly back to the hotel.

So here I am. It’s midnight now. I should really try and sleep if I’m going to keep up the 6am start nonsense. Perhaps if I do explore tomorrow, I might have a little more to share. Oh – while I think of it – I’m busy posting photos to Instagram as and when I get a chance to do so – feel free to check them out.

I’m sitting in the heart of Terminal 2 at London Heathrow airport once again. I have an hour until the gate is announced for my flight. I’m sitting here in cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals, watching the world go by around me.

It’s a curious experience, watching people in an airport – particularly one as big as Heathrow. This particular terminal is one of five, with seating for several thousand people and as many shops as a major shopping mall in most cities. Terminal 2 serves people travelling around Europe – so the people you see wandering this way and that tend to be European. Sometimes you can tell a person’s nationality just by looking at them, and sometimes not. Middle aged and older people are the easiest to tell – teens and twenty-somethings are almost impossible.

Somebody just walked past in flip-flops and socks. That’s almost as bad as sandals and socks, isn’t it ?

A few minutes ago I bought a sandwich and a drink, and almost coughed at the prices. It would appear there’s nothing like having a captive market to validate doubling the cost of everything. One of the high street chain stores that has shops in hospitals over here was shamed in the press recently for charging eight times the going rate for toothpaste and toothbrushes – preying on people at their most vulnerable.

It’s kind of lovely, sitting here, watching the various nationalities mingling with each other – quietly going about their journey. Everybody is coming from somewhere, and going to somewhere else – or at least I think so – I can’t imagine there’s a Viktor Noborski hiding out in the terminal somewhere. Nobody is arguing. Nobody is fighting. The terminal is filled with normal folk, going about their day. Business people, families, couples – every demographic you might think of. In the distane I can hear the clink of cutlery, cups, and saucers. Across the way, the designer handbag shops stand empty, with catwalk model staff trying to find things to do.

In three quarters of an hour, the gate for my flight will be anounced, and I’ll set off in search of the snaking line of passengers that will have already formed. It’s an uncanny thing – how people get to airport departure gates so quickly. I can never quite figure out why – because everybody has an assigned seat – it’s not like you’re going to get a better seat by arriving early. I’m also continually surprised at the amount of junk people carry onto the plane with them.

There appears to be a group of school children forming in the middle of the terminal now. Perhaps fifty of them. They are split into groups of ten or so, with an adult accompanying each group. It’s wonderful to see their excitement. One of the adults just shepherded her group ahead of her, and did the parent thing – “I’ll go last, and make sure we don’t lose anybody on the way to the gate”.

Anyway. Enough of this inane commentary. The gate for my flight will be anounced in a little while. I’m going to finish my orange juice, and then go for a wander before my departure gate is announced. I imagine the next post will be from a hotel room in Frankfurt. Later!

Here we are again – packing bags ahead of an early morning taxi ride to the airport. It’s all becoming a bit routine. I thought it might be interesting (to me at least) to go through the contents of my clothes bag, and backpack. I suppose it’s worth noting that I’m travelling out on Monday, and back on Friday – so you have some idea how long the various things I’m carrying have to last.

In the suitcase:

• One pair of black shoes (for work)
• One pair of dark khaki trousers (for work)
• Three long sleeve white shirts (one for each day in the office)
• Four sets of underwear and socks – fresh for each day
• Raincoat (probably not needed)
• Four short sleeve casual shirts (for evenings, and the journey home)
• Spare pair of cargo shorts I will be wearing a shirt and cargo shorts on the way, and sandals on my feet – so the idea will be to use the sandals during the evenings throughout the week. I’ll also use the same belt both for cargo shorts, and for work trousers.

The work backpack has all the electronics stuff in it, and will stay with me on the flights – the clothes will get checked in at the airport. The backpack has the following in it:

• Work laptop, charger, and external hard drive
• Two UK to European plug adapters
• Bullet Journal, and two pens (used to write notes in meetings)
• Amazon Fire tablet (filled with movies to watch)
• Amazon Kindle (easier to carry than a paper book)
• USB to Micro USB cable and charger That’s pretty much it – other than a washbag, that I’ll pack in the morning. The washbag usually just has a hairbrush, some deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a couple of razors, and some shaving gel in it. I’m pretty low maintenance. I’ll of course have the usual things in my pockets too – passport, wallet, and keys.

I nearly forgot – I’m also packing some paracetamol in the wash bag. During a recent visit I had to find an Apotheker to buy headache tablets from – you can’t just buy them from the supermarket as you can in the UK. I doubt I’ll have any issues this time though, because I’ve stopped drinking tea and coffee, which I imagine gave rise to the headache in the first place.

This morning I was supposed to be tagging along with my other half to visit a nearby town to buy some clothes. Somehow the trip never happened. This kind of thing happens to me a lot – where I plan around something happening, and then the thing doesn’t happen. This is usually a cascading thing too – where the rescheduled thing doesn’t happen either – several times in a row.

Anyway. This afternoon we headed off to a picnic at our youngest daughter’s school. We attended last year – her first year at the school – and had the best time playing games with the kids, and making friends with other parents. Her school is out-of-town, so the chances to make friends is far less likely than with our other daughters. I was kind of disappointed that only one or two of the families from our daughter’s school year turned up this time – she didn’t say as much, but I think she was quite disappointed.

What else has been happening ?

I have spent the evening monkeying with an old laptop, turning it into a Commodore Amiga. There is of course no practical purpose for doing so – it just fascinates me. I thought about taking it to Germany with me next week, to give me something to tinker with on the evenings, but then thought better of it.

I want next week to be all about the work in the daytime, and about having a rest in the evenings. I’m going to take the Kindle with me, and read. I’ve already checked the weather forecast for Frankfurt – it’s going to be hot during the evenings, so I’ll take shorts and shirts this time. I’m sure nobody will mind me sitting in cafes and bars quietly reading my book, or writing about the world unfolding around me.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I may carry myself off to bed. It turns out that being in the fresh air all afternoon causes all manner of yawns and tiredness. Sleep may not be far away.

It feels like I’m juggling too many balls at the moment – somehow managing to keep them all in the air, but expecting to drop them all.

I travel to Germany again on Monday morning. Another early morning taxi ride to the airport, ahead of another week holed up in a hotel. It’s all becoming strangely routine. I need to get clothes washed and dried over the weekend, and shirts ironed before folding them back into the travel bag they came out of two weeks ago.

During this visit I’m going to try and find some new places to eat – places that serve basic food – meat, potatoes, vegatables – that kind of thing. You might not think finding something to eat would be a problem in a huge international city such as Frankfurt, but strangely it is – the most obvious restaurants in the heart of the city cater for just about every cuisine in the world – but if you just want a basic home cooked meal you have to explore. I think Google Maps may become my friend. I have yet to explore the south side of the river, so that may be the most obvious destination. It will mean a pretty lengthy walk, but that’s probably a good thing after sitting at a desk all day long.

During my last visit to Frankfurt I got up early each morning, and went for walks along the river. There’s something magical about watching a city come to life early in the morning – seeing the beer, newspapers, and milk getting delivered. I still remember visiting Paris years ago, and being fascinated by water running through the gutters early each morning, and a small army of city workers sweeping and cleaning the pavements and roads.

At some point over the weekend I need to start putting things in my backpack too. I try not to take too many things, and yet almost always reach the end of a week away thinking “I really didn’t need that, or that”. Perhaps the first thing to find it’s way into the bag will be the book I have (not) been reading – the one I mentioned in the blog during my last visit to Germany. It seems I only really make time to read when I’m away from home – when I have nothing else to do.

Living in a hotel while travelling with work is a strange experience. I’ve written at length in the past about it – the loneliness – but never really about how disconnected your life becomes. It’s almost like splitting yourself in half – the family guy that washes up, plays video games with the kids, and cuts the grass stays at home, and the career guy that works relentlessly gets on the train, or plane to the destination. Switching from one to the other is jarring. My other half often complains that everything is calm while I’m away, and then when I return it’s like there’s this maniac in the house, smashing through chores one after another without stopping.

Maybe I just need to learn how to relax into life a bit more.

I seem to have fallen off the “post every day” horse quite spectacularly in recent weeks. I’m thinking this is a good thing. I know one or two people look out for my posts, and that’s all sorts of wonderful, but if I have little to report, it always seems a bit forced.

I was going to write a long rambling post about struggling with life in general at the moment, but then caught myself before entering into a couple of thousand words about the selfishness of children, the woes of parenting, and the nightmare of carrying an enormous project single handed at work.

Nobody wants to read a ranty monologue.

It’s so easy to let things get on top of you, isn’t it. To lose perspective. To start looking around you at the lives of others, and wishing you had a little of what they appear to have. That’s just it though, isn’t it – it’s what they appear to have. Everybody has an untold story on the internet – it’s usually directly related to the reason their posts arrive in the early hours of the morning.

At the 2012 Olympic opening ceremony in London, Sir Tim Berners Lee sat at a NeXT terminal in the middle of the Olympic stadium, and typed out the message “This is for everybody” – re-affirming the reasons the World Wide Web was brought into being. I can’t help drawing parallels between that sentiment, and the unlikely group of friends I have forged around the world. The internet is many things to many people, but I think perhaps the connections it helps forge in the dead of night when we’re busy sitting in the dark, overthinking everything, is one of it’s better attributes.

Now if only I could find more time to invest in those unlikely friendships.