I am in
London. I flew overnight on British Airways. The elderly and somewhat washed
out stewardesses were very helpful - unless you wanted anything. When I asked
one of the ladies if I could plug my Mac Computer into the power socket to
charge it she informed me that I could. When I pointed out that the power
socket had strange two point pins in it she looked sullen. I informed her that
my charger was Singaporean but it was the same as a British plug and she nodded
an affirmation. When I asked if this was a British plane she confirmed that it
was. I then enquired why did a British plane not have British power sockets?
She replied that a two pin socket was international.
I told her
that it was not.
Then I asked
her if there was an adaptor that I could use but she again looked morose and
said they did not have any.
She spilled
coffee on me this morning when serving me breakfast. I think it was
intentional.
I landed at
5.00am this morning. Somewhere in the thirteen hour flight I have lost seven
hours. More lost time. I will not get these seven hours back until I return to
Singapore on the weekend. It is a whirlwind trip and I am already exhausted.
When I
shuffled my way to the immigration desk a very unhappy looking official in a
turban asked me, "For what is being the purpose of your visit to the
United Kingdom?"
"I am
here for the birth of the Royal baby" I rather recklessly replied.
Kate Middleton
- the Duchess of Cambridge and the wife of Prince William is pregnant. Her baby
is one week overdue and all of England is on edge. The latest news is that she
has gone into labour. She will be birthing at the St Mary's hospital in
Paddington. Press from all around the world are camped out there.
The
be-turbanned Immigration officer made some furious notes on my card and then he
picked up his phone and he had a hushed conversation with someone. I became a
little alarmed.
"I am
actually here for work" I said.
More notes
were made and another bloke with a turban came over to the desk. They both
looked at me strangely. There was another call made and I was asked for whom I
worked. I told them that I worked for the English and I showed them my business
card. They then enquired when I would be returning to Singapore and I informed
them that I would be going back on the weekend. I was eventually allowed entry
but I suspect that I am being shadowed by MI5 agents.
I can feel
their presence.
As I trudged
through the Arrival Hall I looked for a man holding a sign with my name on it
and there was of course none. The last two times that I have been to London
there has always been a debacle with the car service that my company uses.
Earlier this year when I arrived there were three guys waiting and holding
signs with my name on it. They were all standing next to each other. The time
before that there was none. Like this morning.
I was prepared
for something like this so I had the number of the car service in my phone. I
rang the office number and got a voicemail message informing me that the office
was not open until 8.30am and it was only 6.00am. After a half an hour wait a
very disheveled man arrived carrying a sign with my name on it. He asked me if
I was me and I confirmed that I was. He then said, "Yoright?"
"Yoright" is an English greeting.
It sort of means 'Hello" but it's literal translation is "Are
you alright?"
I have been "yorighted"
all day.
My reply to
the "Yoright" given to me by the
Driver-who-was-half-an-hour-late in picking me up was, "No I am not
fucking alright. I have been waiting here for you for half an hour".
I told him
that I was battered and was tired and grumpy. He apologized and told me that he
had only been given the job an hour earlier and he had to come to Heathrow from
West London.
I apologized
back and I told him that I was weary after a long flight. I also asked him to
keep an eye out in his rear vision mirror to see if we were being followed. He
assured me that he would and then he asked me if I wanted him to shake off a
tail if there was one. I told him not to bother and that I just wanted to get
to my hotel and get some rest.
I am staying
at Canary Wharf at the Marriott Hotel. I have stayed here a couple of times
before. It is convenient as it is only a few minutes walk to my office.
Marriott
hotels are everywhere and they are an American company. The full name is
actually JW Marriott Hotels. JW is John Willard. He was an entrepreneur who
started his business life selling root beer. This is a drink otherwise known as
sarsaparilla. It is a carbonated soft drink originally made from a blend of
birch oil and sassafras. It is called root beer because of the sassafras
connection. It is made from the root of the sassafras plant.
I don't like
it.
John Willard's
Root Beer shop in Washington was very popular. He opened his first one in in
1927 and later called it the "Hot Shoppe". He started serving Mexican
food in his shop and then he progressively opened more and more of them across
the United States. His business really took off in 1939 when he was awarded some
very big contracts to feed the tens of thousands of government workers employed
in the Department of Defense at the start of World War Two.
Marriott
opened his first hotel in Arlington Virginia in 1957 and he didn't stop
building and opening them until he died in 1985. He died a very wealthy man and
his hotel empire lives on.
The Marriott
hotel in Islamabad in Pakistan was bombed by Islamic extremists in September
2008 and heaps of people were killed. All were innocents. The Marriott was
targeted simply because it was American. You bomb and you get bombed back. That
was the message being sent.
The history of
Canary wharf where I am staying is interesting. It is located in an area known
as the West India Docks which is on the Isle of Dogs in the borough of Towers
Hamlets. This is in East London. The West India docks used to be one of the
busiest docks in the world. They closed in the 1980's and the British
government offered stimulus packages for businesses to move there and now it is
the main Banking district of London.
The Isle of
Dogs - I like that. The name was first recorded in 1568 but why it is named
thus is a bit of a mystery. Some believe that it is actually a corruption of
the name "Isle of ducks" because a lot of wild fowl used to inhabit
the area. There is another theory that it's name was derived as a term of some
contempt because it was a 'dog's life' for those people who lived there. A
further theory is that the because the original docks of the sixteenth century
were used mainly to import firewood – and the phrase is linked to the term
'fire dogs'. These were the cross beams that were laid beneath a hearth fire
used to make charcoal.
It is all
quite abstruse.
At the time I
am writing this there is still no Royal baby. Bookmakers here in England are in
a frenzy and all sorts of bets are being taken on whether it will be a boy or a
girl. There are also odds being offered on what the child will be named.
Victoria is currently the favorite and you can get good odds of six to one on
this. Charlotte is a close second favorite at eight to one. Strangely a boy is
more favored to be born than a girl so naming him Victoria or Charlotte will be
irregular. The baby will apparently be third in line for the throne of
England.
It is all very
exciting.
I am getting a
bit delirious now as jet lag is kicking in.
I will say 'yoright'
now and go to bed.
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