Life in the middle

Fine.

I'm now off to the country for the rest of the year.

I want to spend some time with nature. Take a look at how she is handling the recession, and what her approach to next year is going to be.

This thing is happening, so we'd all better fasten our seat belts and get ready for the ride.

Many people are predicting the end of the world, but I feel fine...

Back.

That was Bermuda, now I'm back. Time for bed.

It ain't over until...

...my sister and Dad dance to Chas 'n' Dave.

So it must be over. Great holiday though, maybe families aren't so bad after all.

Work out this way.

After extensive tests I can finally conclude that the best song, on my ipod, to work out to when in Bermuda is...Run D.M.C featuring Aerosmith, Walk This Way.

See how ready to keep working out I am when listening to it.

I'm coming home this evening, which is tomorrow morning your time. Please try and keep the fuss to a minimum.

Thanks, and good afternoon.

Christmas, like no other.

I've never spent Christmas somewhere hot before, or overseas - it was all new to me. They do things very differently in Bermuda. On Christmas morning everyone heads to the beach.

It's a social thing. People wear Santa hats. Drink champagne. And wish one another a happy Christmas.

Everyone is welcome, even Irish Setters. It felt weird at first, but in time it soon felt like a fine way to spend Christmas morning, I think it was the hats.

Of course there were those who took it too far and wore linen.

I was going to kick sand at him, but he had a dog, so I didn't.

Then it was back to the hotel for dinner. We improvised, using my parent's balcony, which worked a treat.

The usual formalities ensued - a turkey, silly hats, presents, and good cheer. The kids seemed happy with their presents, my nephew Wilf was speechless when I presented a gift to him.

And Margot and Casey (niece and nephew) were equally pleased when questioned (at length) about their feelings towards the presents I got them.

To me those faces say 'you're the best uncle in the world'.

So that was Christmas.

It's now Boxing Day, and it's raining. So I'm watching Chelsea v. West Brom with my Dad.

Something's never change.

The day today.

Let me start with a short announcement of no significance to anyone but myself: tonight I'm going to dry and sleep with the air conditioning turned off, and see if it means I wake up less. I've been waking up in the night with a dry throat, which is annoying. Let's see if the new system helps. Perhaps, if I remember, I'll let you know tomorrow if it does.

Right back to life in paradise.

(I know this isn't exactly classic blogging, but I'm on holiday, and most other bloggers stop altogether at Christmas, so bear with me.)

So, today.

Today was one of those days you use to join up all the others during a holiday. It rained. And I mean rained. A tropical storm in fact.

It was exciting, boats couldn't run, hatches had to be battened down. I survived by gathering close the essential items needed to survive any act of God.

Once the storm had passed I went back to fulfilling the important routines that become so essential to making it through a holiday. Mine involves taking my young nephew Wilf for an afternoon stroll in his buggy. The bumps and rhythm of the path gently prod him into the land of nod, he tries to fight it but he can normally only last two laps of the hotel (including a circuit of the underground car-park on each lap).

In the evening dinner was taken, and then games. I played Operation against my niece Corey. I played skilfully until I was confronted by the tricky removal of a spanner - it was all downhill from there.

 

I expect tomorrow will be the same, but different, in a good way.

Blankets are okay, but they can slip and slide.

This really reminded me of some of the stuff Iain Tait posts (not the really insightful stuff about the internet, and creative business, and all that digital gubbins, no, the other stuff).

It's a marvelous thing, a blanket that has sleeves. So, you can 'work the remote', or, 'read a book', all in total warmth.

How cool is that, or not if you're wearing your Snuggie (which I am now).

I know I'm in Bermuda when...

...I arrive through the door of the airport and am confronted by a very different type of passport control (a better type).

There are other signs too.

I hang out by swimming pools with names, the one at the hotel we're staying in is called 'The Infinity Pool'. It's a formidable beast - one of those ones you can persuade kids they could slip over the side of, and fall into the sea. Which scares them so much that they then refuse to go back in, Not until their mother's go in with them, causing no a small level of annoyance to the aforementioned mother.

I only, and I mean only, travel by ferry. It's like the tube. But on water. And no one is drunk. And there's loads of room. And people talk to one another. And there are no signal failures. And the driver waves to you when you get off. And (I could add 67 other differences here).

The view from the boat is better than the tube too (even from an iPhone camera).

The final absolute clincher that I'm in Bermuda is that firstly, all my nieces and nephews are together in one place, but secondly, they're all willing to gather and make funny faces (we're a creative family), as and when requested by their uncle.

Today we're off to the beach. Then I'm going to spend the afternoon looking for sites where you could erect a large storage facility. I'm looking to try busy junctions first.

Good morning.

Fingers crossed.

I was walking towards the gate to board my flight 5 minutes ago, when I was stopped and invited to enter a draw to win the Ferrari above. Apparently I have no real chance of winning, but I bought £840 worth of tickets anyway. One more post, then into the triangle.

Books for the plane/jetlag phase.

Hello again, and welcome back to Gatwick. I've now organised my reading material for the flight. I think i'll start with Chuck Liddell, I've got a bit of a headache and I can't face concentrating too hard. Right, going for a precautionary urination, then off to boarding gate.