48 Hours

A lot can happen in 48 hours. A blog can be removed from existence, and fifteen years worth of posts – four and half thousand of them – can vanish into the ether. Of course this is the internet, and nothing ever vanishes without a trace. In this case that “trace” is the four and a half thousands posts resurfacing somewhere elsewhere entirely, right under everybody’s noses.

I stopped writing a personal blog 48 hours ago. And yet here I am, writing again – emptying my head into the keyboard. This isn’t so much slipping under the radar, as moving in around the corner – complete with a badly fitting fedora, sunglasses, and stick-on mustache. You haven’t seen me, right ?

What else has happened in the past 48 hours?

I flew to Germany. There’s that. I’m sitting at the table of my hotel room in deepest, darkest Frankfurt while writing this. I’m one day into a three day development sprint – busy trying not to stress myself out over the mountain still to climb, or to look over my shoulder at the yawning chasm behind me. I’ve been on this project since February, and there doesn’t appear to be an end in sight. There are already sketchy plans for flights in September, and funding for further projects next year.

I went to a Japanese restaurant for dinner – the one I have frequented often during these flying visits. The food is wonderful, the service is fast, and it’s not expensive. It’s also nearby. The lady serving me presumed I was German to begin with, and apologised profusely when she discovered I was English. We both laughed, and suddenly there was a warmth about her that hadn’t been there before. I still find it amazing that even international staff in restaurants throughout the city appear to be tri-lingual.

After returning to the hotel, I haven’t achieved anything really. I avoided the World Cup on the television, and contenting myself with one internet rabbit hole after another. While it is tempting to stay up until the early hours catching up with friends, another part of me wants to continue reading the book I’ve had my nose in. I think tonight the book might win.

One Reply to “48 Hours”

  1. I recently returned from a trip to Croatia/Slovenia/Italy and I am very jealous of how most of the people (at least in Croatia and Slovenia) seemed to know at least three languages. I've been studying French – admittedly on my own and as an adult, two points against me – for about three years and would say that I can kind of read it at best.

    Like

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