It’s 5:30am in London and, thanks to jetlag, I’m awake. Those of you who know me well would know that I don’t often see this time of day as early mornings are not my forte. In fact the only reason for any ambition on the dressage competition front was to get to a level where the times suited my waking hours. I wish I could wake up (and actually feel awake) at this time at home – I could probably be the Prime Minister if I had a few more hours a day (most likely Maggie Thatcher). Maybe just as well that I spend more time sleeping. From the lovely flat we call home in London I can see the Post Office tower and the swans on the canal below the window are making some funny noises. Great little spot – could really do with a cup of coffee right now but the converted warehouse apartment has very squeaky wooden floors which give away your every movement and wake the rest of the house so I’ll have to wait. Having said that, Paul has just got up too and has coughed enough to wake the dead so I think that coffee making sounds are the least of our host’s problems. A quick recap so far. The flight was, as usual, long – going straight through to London from Melbourne via Singapore but the new Airbus planes are much more comfortable. Oh for the days of business class. Landing at 5:40am we decided to save money on taxis so we could blow it on lunch instead and trundled into town on the tube – nice and quiet at that time. London was my home for many years during University days and Paul lived here till he was 14 so it does feel like coming home for both of us and we tend to have a bit of a routine the first day which involves a pork pie and various other foods. Luckily our dear friend Mel is aware of this strange passion for pork pies and when we arrive at the converted warehouse on the side of the canal in Islington at 7am she has the breakfast table set with croissants, grenola and bread from Le Pain Quotidienne, a pork pie, a lovely goats cheese from the Neal’s Yard and great coffee. Strange but true. Her only oversight was the HP Sauce but, hey.....
Time for lunch
Eating real food, drinking real coffee and a long, hot shower are the three things that make you feel human after a long flight and lull you into the false sense of security that you feel great and can last the whole day. A bit of work on the laptop, answer emails and then lunch at Jamie Oliver’s 15, just around the corner. The trattoria section on the level you enter provides a lovely casual atmosphere and my gnocchi was fantastic but Paul’s pasta slightly more al dente than he likes. Still great value – homemade breads and huge green Ligurian olives to start, two pasta dishes, carafe of Montepulciano and coffee was 50 quid. Try and do that in Melbourne. From our last few trips here in the last 18 months there is no doubt in my mind that Melbourne and Sydney are now more expensive than London. It starts to go downhill from here. Under instruction from our IT person at the office to use a UK phone for Twitter etc (as I totally blew the company telecommunications budget during the WEG in Kentucky) we pop into a Vodaphone store to pick up a pre-paid phone. We finally got enough information from a slightly spaced out 14 year old sales assistant to buy a cheap Android phone and I hate it. I have never understood people being fanatical about technology, despite being in the IT business for years, but I realise that I am now completely addicted to iPhone and iPad interfaces and will probably pretend to lose this little phone so I can revert to my own. Then pick up the rental car and enter the land from hell where every single customer in the rental area is in complaint mode. We have committed the cardinal sin of forgetting to bring our passports but the guy serving us is so fed up of handling angry people that he daren’t make us go back to collect them and we emerge victorious with a car after a lengthy wait. By now the jetlag is catching up. Buying food for dinner and a few basics for our little flat in Stamford where we are staying during Burghley (for those of you who are beginning to wonder what this blog has to do with horses and eventing, there is a mention of it for you) I suddenly lose my marbles in the middle of Sainsbury’s. I know I came in here for something – Tea? Coffee? Bendick’s Bittermints? Jet lag hits like a brick wall, making you (or me anyway) slightly delirious and in gaga land. We make it home and are still lying on the sofa when our host arrives home from work expecting a delicious dinner. We do manage to cook, eat and I fall asleep, as usual, during the first ten minutes of the movie designed to keep us awake until a reasonable bedtime. Then it is 5:30 am; I am wide awake and ready to write my first blog before we head up the A1 to Burghley. Did I mention we’re here for a horse event?
