The tyranny of distance

Well folks here I am in sunny Geneva.  And it is in fact sunny, albeit a modest 7 degrees.  To be strictly correct it WAS sunny until about 15 minutes ago, but is now (5.05PM) almost dark.  Never mind.  This was taken a couple of hours ago from my hotel room window.

 

 

It doesn't do it justice, although I think you can just see snow capped alps (oh, alright, big hills) in the distance.  Just try and ignore the nondescript buildings and part of the airport in the foreground,  With any luck, I'll do better with the camera in coming days.

 

My title, unsurprisingly, stems from the feeling I always get when I go to meetings in the northern hemisphere,  I've no doubt at all that these European types think nothing about the time and effort involved in getting here from the far reaches when they organise international meetings.  Particularly when they can finish a normal day, hop on a convenient flight from London, Berlin or wherever and be here in Geneva in a couple of hours max, ready to get underway bright and early tomorrow.

 

In my case, the trek took 30 hours from door to door.  On the subject of: there's always someone worse off than you, there was a Fijian colleague on the same flight into Geneva, and I don't even want to think about how long it took him.

 

Random observations along the way, in no particular order.  On departing our shores, I'd observe that our Border Force colleagues are taking their newly tailored livery as a signal to menace the hoi polloi far more effectively than their predecessors in customs and immigration, who never had the great fortune to strut around looking like extras in a movie about the life and times of Benito Mussolini.  You are now assailed at departure by signs warning that visits to any number of regions in Iraq and Syria without good reason are likely to expose you to criminal liability.  I didn't catch all the areas in question, although I think Al Raqqah in Syria might have been one.  I guess the message is, if you're in any doubt, just don't go anywhere that more than one Q in its name.

 

I've yet again confirmed that if you want to catch up on movies or TV shows that you missed when first released, don't try to do so on a plane, at least if you have any ambition at all of trying to follow what's going on.  The sound quality is invariably abysmal and the video not much better.  And that's not to mention the endless interruptions from the cabin crew on the PA, warning you to return to your seats immediately, on pain of ejection, when unexpected turbulence is encountered, or better still (and my personal favourite), breathlessly announcing that duty free shopping is about to close.  Last chance to get that bargain basement offer on French perfume or Russian vodka or 40 kilo block of Toblerone.

 

Anyway, enough of my misanthropic ravings ... so far, Geneva is great.  I say this not just because of the excellent weather, but more to the point, on account of a successful visit to a local purveyor of fine biers et vins, which are being enjoyed even as this is being composed.  (By the way, it's now close to 6, and pitch black outside.  The 5.50 to Heidelberg has just left from runway 73 north, and I suspect that there'll be many more movements at nearby Geneva International before the night is out.)  On the subject of fine biers et vins (not that I'm obsessed about it, mind), I solemnly promise I will try my best not to slip into my schoolboy French at every available opportunity, although I'm not sure how successful I'll be in carrying out my promise.

 

A number of pre-conference meetings in prospect tomorrow.  I won't be posting every day (surely that's not a sigh of relief I hear?), as the conference itself won't necessarily lend itself to daily reporting once it starts.  So I'll be back (perhaps more of a threat than a promise) some time soonish. Bye for now.  Oh, and I haven't run into any Dittmars yet, although I guess I should have tried to see if the bloke behind the counter in the grog shop answered to it.  Still, plenty of time yet.