Well - the project that I’ve been working on for the last 15 months or so is over.  They are officially ‘live’ - and I have officially left.  The key word in that is ‘officially’.  In practice - there are still plenty of issues, plenty of those related to people, not technology.  And - the company has paid for an extra 5 days of my time - to be used on an ad-hoc manner… so I’m expecting a phone call of “HELP!!!” fairly soon.  But - in order that I had some small time of recovery before this - I cleverly misplaced my phone on the night of my leaving drinks.  So - I was complete uncontactable over the weekend.  I had completely forgotten how awesome it is to actually have a weekend off.

But - the weekend wasn’t nearly enough.  Especially considering that the night before my leaving drinks, was Ben’s leaving drinks.  So, as can be expected, there was some dinner and drinks.  To the point where the owner/manager of the restaurant approached our table.  Unfortunately, I was closest to him - so he started chatting to me.  I thought he was a homeless guy asking for change or something.  It took quite some time to realise that he was actually the manager, and he was offering to give us a bottle of something for free.  He asked what I wanted, and I said something like “well… we’ve been drinking quite a range so far…” - in order to lead up to pointing out that we would love another bottle of champagne.  Unfortunately, he broke in with “Yes - my daughter told me that, and I can see that.  This is why I think you would appreciate something special, that you can’t get anywhere else.”  And from there, it all went downhill as he brought us a bottle of sparkling vodka.  I managed to refrain from having too much, as I had figured I’d had a little too much approximately 30 minutes previously.  Luckily, as I and a few others went downstairs for a spot of air, Ben & Chook started racing each other - and the bottle was gone by the timewe returned.

Cue - very very drunk Ben & Chook very very soon.  Luckily - being around people that are drunker than me somehow sobers me up.  So - when Chook & Ben started annoying me with quick jabs to the guts while on an escalator - my trick of sunddenly jumping onto the aluminium centre piece and sliding down worked remarkably well.  The delightful Transport For London people try to prevent people from doing this kind of thing - by having large bumps at regular intervals.  Well - I somehow managed to jump the one I needed to, and then fairly gracefully hurdled back onto the ground at the bottom.  Leaving Ben & Chook speechless.  To be honest - I was rather speechless myself, as it really shouldn’t have worked as well as it did.  It sets a dangerous precedent - as I know that one day I’ll try to replicate the feat, and this time hurt and/or embarass myself terribly.

But - it is now back to work.  But work in the head office, which is usually incredibly boring.  I don’t have to wear a suit, which is a bonus.  But - very very little of my time is actually working for clients in a ‘billable’ sense - which means no more monthly bonus, which is terrible.  Slightly easier to get to each morning, which is good.  No fixed desk, so have to carry laptop and everything else to/from work - and can’t have breakfast supplies sitting at work, which isn’t good.  Food around here is horribly expensive also.  £1.25 for a cuppa tea at the closest breakfast/cafe joint.  It was 50p at my local one during the project.  £1.25!!!  Converted to NZ$ - I remember when I used to pay that for a pint of beer.

But - soon I’ll be saving money, when I move in with Chook & Chris.  Might even start cooking my own meals again.  My local is going to be gutted.  The new manager is already complaining about his weekly takings.  I haven’t pointed out to him what fraction of that I have calculated is going to disappear fairly soon.

Oh - and no more trips to India!  That is really quite good - but is probably another part of the project that I will kind of miss in a perverse way.  I calculated it yesterday - I spent just over 2 months in total in that hotel in India.  That is a decent portion of the year.  I probably should have arranged one last trip over there - at the end of which I could have taken a month or two off, and gone travelling in the country properly.  But - instead I’ll wait until next year, when I’ve got quite a plan in my mind for some travel.  To be done in Jan/Feb/Mar, isn’t it Ben?  When you’ll be busy working.  Sucker.

So - the end of an era.  No more project sucking up all of my time and energy.  And, although everybody kept telling me during the last few months (both work people and real people) that it had been doing that, and that nobody could understand how I was doing it - I didn’t really think anything of it until after it actually ended.  And - moving house, probably this weekend.  Which should be resulting in quite a few lifestyle changes also.  Cooking at home, instead of eating at the pub.  Going straight home off the tube, instead of straight to the pub.  (I really hope there isn’t a pub between new tube and new flat.)  Having people in the flat to chat with, instead of the pub.  Playing sport, instead of the jukebox at the pub.  Etcetera.  Etcetera.

I have come to realise that I have a problem.  Champagne.  It is a real problem - and something needs to be done.  Over the last month I have probably spent more on champagne than most people’s monthly living costs.  This can not go on forever - as on one occasion I spent more than I earn in a week - on one night of drinking champagne.  Yes - I suppose that you could consider me a hero, sacrificing myself bravely to end the global recession.  But - I think I’ve done enough now, and the news reports certainly seem to support this.  I think it’s time for a rest from being so selfless.  My one last fling was on Wednesday night.  A free bar - as it was a function celebrating my project being finished.  But - even with an open bar, I somehow managed to purchase two magnums of champagne.

Anyway - all that is in the past now.  Let us look to the future.  I seem to have somehow been talked into moving house.  When all is certain - I’ll let some of you know my new address.  However - it seems that my new place will NOT have a jacuzzi.  It will NOT be within 30 minutes commute of work.  It will NOT be 5 minutes walk from my local pub.  It will NOT have a carpeted bathroom.   It will NOT have a bidet.  Somehow I’m trading all of this for a Chook.  This is yet another recent instance which can only be explained by rohypnol.

Apologies to the few of you who still logon once in a while to see if I’ve been doing anything interesting.  Firstly - for not writing anything for a while, and secondly - for not doing anything terrible exciting recently.

Yep - since the last time I blathered on about stuff - I worked a couple of weeks in India, and drank at night.  I believe I made a few phone calls from the hotel one night - taking advantage of the fact that I was still awake at what should be a reasonable hour in New Zealand.  Forgetting that despite being awake, I probably wasn’t in any state to make sensible conversation.

Then - back to England (for good - I don’t think I have to go to India again.  Figured I’ve spent about 20% of this year living in the Crowne Plaza Today Gurgaon).  Anyway - back to Ingerlund, where the pattern continued.  Ben is still in the area - so there has been a fair bit of the old binge-drink.  Mine old nemesis.  So - the last few weeks has been a rollercoaster of excessive drinking, excessive working, repeated ad nauseum.

Highlights include:

• Setal & Mark’s wedding.  Congratulations to them.  Good wedding, and good craic afterwards.
• The day after Setal’s wedding.  To the best of my knowledge, I bought 18 bottles of champagne that day - although one of them was only a mini-bottle.
• Last Friday.  Drinks with workmates.  Well - bosses.  A very overpriced bottle of champagne which I couldn’t finish, so took back to my local.
• Saturday.  John’n'Mel’s leaving drinks.  Drinks in a park, followed by being far far too noisy at Caro’n'Dom’s place.
• Sunday.  Woke up with bodies strewn throughout my bedroom.  Accidentally left very long message on my boss’ voicemail.  He reckons he couldn’t hear much except bad guitar, and me yelling at somebody about my horse.  Then - went to the local - and treated Caitlin, Chook & Slab to that particular experience.  Slab stuck with me to the end. I spent most of the time working, getting progressively ’slurrier’ on my conference calls with management-types.
• Last night - drinks with workmates.  Supposed to be my boss’ leaving drinks - but he’s been coerced into staying a while longer too.  (I was supposed to finish last week - no such luck.)
• Tonight - supposed to be attending some black-tie function.  It’s kind of like the Oscars, but for computer nerds.  And I’ve been invited!  (Yes - the self-disgust is nearly unbearable.)  Methinks it’s time to get boozed up and try to snatch an award off of somebody, and make a drunken speech.

Well - after nearly two weeks in India, it was time for a long weekend.  And where better for a quick relaxing getaway from Gurgaon, India - then Champagne, France?  So - I flew to gay Paree.  Ben picked me up - and we headed to Champagne.

Checked into a cheap dodgy hotel in Epernay, and then started drinking champagne.  Well - not strictly in that order, but close enough.  I had a bottle at the airport waiting for him.  We had a bottle at lunch in Rheims.  And then I think we checked in.  And went exploring.  Bought some supplies.  Cheese, foie gras, bread, a couple of electric champagne coolers, champagne.  And then decided that the ledge outside our hotel window could quite conceivably function as a balcony.  And that pretty much set-up the template for the weekend.  Cheese, foie gras, pate, champange & music on the balcony.

But then - we decided to fly in extra company.  Caitlin Osborne celebrated her birthday recently - so Ben & I decided to buy her a gift.  Flights for her & her friend from London.  And then - suddenly there were four of us in a small dodgy hotel room.  We did actually try to reserve the room next door - but when we picked up the key, and Ben opened the door to check whether we should steal that room if it was better - it turns out some poor girl had also checked into that room.  So - we were stuck with small room, and balcony.  (I did try sleeping on the balcony one night, but really rather cold.)

But - no matter.  We had everything we needed.  We were worried that two champagne coolers wouldn’t cope with the extra consumers - but good ol’ Rudy at the hotel bar kept us supplied with an ice bucket and a supply of ice.  Put to very good use.

Sunday, we actually ventured out of town - and headed to a nearby lake.  A little swim, and little sun, and a little Flunch.  I don’t like Flunch.  But - it seemed to be the only place open in the entire province on a Sunday.  Except the A&P show - which was weird.

There was a lot of champagne drunk at restaurants.  Our method was to go through the list alphabetically.  I got two email addresses from an aussie girl and a french girl on the first night.  The aussie girl was an air stewardess with Qantas - was with her co-pilot boyfriend - and held both my & Ben’s hands (and eye contact) for far too long during the goodbye handshake.  Far, far too long.  I bought a stop-bouchon.  The best in the world.  Don’t bother trying to look up what that is, because I think mine is the best in the world, because it’s the only one in the world.  And did I mention we drank champagne?  Our balcony had quite an impressive collection of bottles on it when we left.  The huge bag of uneaten food delicacies had been moved into an airtight bag in the bathroom - but the staff refused to take it away.

• Favourite champagne: Kristal
• Least favourite food: Flunch
• Favourite person: Rudy
• Least favourite person: Little irishman who bragged about buying his girlfriend an expensive watch.  While staying at the Ibis. Notable mentions: Ben, myself.
• Favourite purchase: stop-bouchon.  Notable mentions: champagne cooler.

And now I’m back in India.  With a couple of good solid 16 hour days to help me recover from the weekend.

Here I am, back in the subcontinent.  And - writing that, I realised for the first time how amusing it is that they call it that.  Because - when you visit here, you’re not necessary incontinent - but usually somewhere close.

Anyway - I realised when I visited family, that when people asked me about India - I didn’t have much to say.  I’d got so used to some of the weirdness, that I couldn’t think of anything interesting.  So - this time, I’m going to try and describe some of the weird and wacky things that go on around here - while I’m still getting reaccustomed to it.  Before seeing a family of 5 travelling on a motorbike becomes ho-hum.

So - the trip here was as usual.  Get to the airport, eat some horrible airport food (I’m sure airport food is worse than airplane food - and you have to pay for it), buy some duty-free - and get on a plane.  Well - in mighty Terminal 5, one of the most modern terminals in the world - get onto a bus, drive across the tarmac, and get onto a plane.  Watched some terrible movies, drank some average wine - and only managed to fall asleep during take-off and landing.   7 hours later, or so - get toNew Delhi, and start to remember the oppressive heat, the pseudo-english on all signs and official paperwork, and filing cabinets packed full of paper, falling apart, in the middle of the luggage pick-up hall.  People wandering around in uniform - presumably doing their job.  Which seems to be wandering around wearing a uniform.  All with a kind of “Oh - what was I going to do?  Hmmm… maybe wipe down some 10-foot high invisible surface for dust.  Now… where did I leave my cloth?”

Got to the hotel, and immediately remembered how mixed one’s feelings are when hotel staff - who haven’t seen you for months, welcome you back with a “Welcome back sir”.  It’s nice to be recognised - but then you think about the reason they actually recognise you.  You’ve 10% of the year staying in a hotel in an industrial city in India.  And about to double that percentage.  And that was before I even got to the bar.  Before I’d come, my workmates had joked that the bar staff would have a ‘Kruse-beer’ waiting for me when I arrived.  I walked in - the barman had just poured what did indeed look to be a ‘Kruse-beer’.  It was obvious he’d poured it for somebody else - but when he saw me he really did exclaim out rather loudly “Mr Kruse!  Would you like a Mr-Kruse-beer Mr Kruse?”.  And handed me the beer.  And thence ensued much shaking of hands with all the bar-staff on that night - welcoming me back and asking how long I was here for this time, etc.  Its depressingly nice to be appreciated.  And - of course, this pattern has continued since I’ve been here, as I continue to see staff for the first time - at the bar, restaurant, exec lounge, drivers, etc.  I think I’ve nearly convinced myself I’m some kind of travelling businessman.

And then - then, I came to work.  Not quite the same reception here.  Well - a  pretence of it, but fairly easily seen through.  Much like my own statements that it was good to be back, I guess.  But - my first day was cheered up a lot when the following happened.  I’d spent most of the morning doing absolutely nothing - waiting for the guy to arrive who was bringing me my laptop.  Turns out he doesn’t start until noon - so I could have had the sleep-in that I desperately needed.  He eventually arrived - and I set myself up in a meeting room which had been turned into a cramped little office with about 8 desktops.  A small group of people turn up at the door - and ask me if we’re using the projector.  Yep - that one, attached to the ceiling.  “No” - I say, because I wasn’t.  They look at each other, and nod that it would suffice.  I didn’t think too much about it - but assumed they’d come in soon and ask if they could borrow the room.  But no - two chaps walk in 10 minutes later - climb on the desk, and start unplugging the cords that go into it.  At which point - my interest is definitely piqued.  This projector is mounted onto the roof.  With a steel bracket.  It also has one of those steel cords used to secure laptops, and projectors.  And - all the cords are wired into the ceiling.  But - they set about their work.  They unplug all the cords - assuming, I guess, that they can find replacement cords somewhere else where they want to plug it in.  They succeed at unplugging the cords - but then, suddenly, look at the next bridge to cross.  Hmmm…. screwed onto a steel bracket which looks to extend well into the ceiling.  And a security cable which is designed to stop this very thing happening.  But - at least that has a key to open it.  So - they do some thinking, and then disappear.  One guy returns 20 minutes later with a pair of pliers, and a loose hacksaw blade.  And sets about it.  At this point, I really was a happy chap again.  I sat there working, stifling laughter, watching this guy attack a top-brand laptop security cable with a hacksaw blade.  No hacksaw - just the blade.  And - full credit to the guy - he stayed there until he did it.  I’ve just had to look the product up - and he sawed through a “Super-strong, steel composite cable with carbon tempered steel core” with a hacksaw blade.  After that - it was a simple matter to unscrew the project from it’s mounting - and off they go.

But, of course, there is also the irritating stuff to go with the comedy.  Walk outside at anytime there are a lot of people leaving work (which seems to be every half-hour) - and the little dirt-road outside is packed full of cars and people-movers - all waiting for people, or full of people and trying to leave - honking their horns at each other.  Absolute chaos.  But - I’m not sure if making this loud obnoxious noise is actually trying to let one of the 12 cars in front of them know that they’re trying to get through.  Because - nearly every truck you see is painted in bright colours - with “Horn Please” painted on the back.  Maybe truck-drivers here are just all gay?

Other things are just different.  I was here at 3am last night - and discovered that one guy’s job is to walk around the building at 3am - giving out snacks to everybody working at that hour, and getting them to write their name in the accompanying book.  I guess this is fair - because the daystaff get free lunch and/or dinner at the cafeteria (which seems to have completely stopped serving food I recognise.  I used to be able to at least hope I could recognise some chicken or lamb… not thus far this time).  And I don’t know how many security guards the office building employs - but it would easily be enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder around the external perimeter.  And the one time I saw one seem to actually try to secure something - was my first morning.  There is a little card reader which you’re supposed to swipe your card past when you enter.  And - another one when you leave, for some reason.  All this reader seems to do is beep - and flash green if you’re a good guy.  It still beeps if you swipe an expired card, or a cellphone, or anything.  But - it doesn’t flash green.  The guys sitting at this desk can’t actually see the light.  But - my first morning - one of the guards was standing up in the passageway.  And - he seemed to actually lean around to see what colour the light went for my card.  Probably new on the job.  In any case - my card was expired, the light didn’t go green, and I walked on in.  He’d already gone beyond the call of duty, I guess.  Oh - to be fair - there is another of these machines which is treated much more seriously.  In the cafeteria - you have to swipe your card before getting your food.  And if you don’t have a card - you have to sign the book, and then get your food.  There are two stations - with one security guard each - and these guys take their job seriously.  Governments of the world - take note… unemployment could be a thing of the past.

And… the hotel.  I have a King room this time.  Which has an extra metre of space than the Superior.  Exactly the same in all other respects.  Including as to ‘which way around’ it is.  ie: some rooms are mirror images of others.  I have had the same orientation every time now.  I wonder if it’s in their records - they don’t want to confuse me.  And I haev discovered the wonders of a long-handled shoehorn.  I never respected shoehorns until last year - when I decided to buy one, with the intention of it being the first of a collection.  But it was a short-handled one.  Never again.  Not after tasting the delights of the long-handle.

There have been a few changes around the hotel since I’ve been away - not sure I agree with them all.  I now need to insert my keycard in the lift to get to my floor.  They’ve removed the tables and chairs from the grassy plaza - which means no place to sit, but now there is actually healthy grass across the entire thing.  The cigar case has been replaced with a champagne case.  Mixed feelings about that one.  The security guards have been expanding their borders - and now stop cars 50 metres further away from the hotel - to check for bombs and what-not in the boot or engine compartment.  And apparently there’s some awful musician who plays in the bar on Fridays&Saturdays.

Unfortunately - neither the movies nor menu have changed.

But - all-in-all, I’m back in India.  It’s pretty hot.  There’s only one other work guy here at the moment, and I haven’t seen him since my first night.  At least I’ve got my work to keep me company - otherwise I’d be one of those sad guys who drinks alone.  So - I’m about to have a meeting, and then see if I can sneak off back to the hotel before the restaurant closes.