Good street party. Awful hangover. Still, I ran 10km first, didn't eat much, kept off the desserts, and even slotted in some late night exercise! No, not that kind: No1 wife and I have been married 12 years, after all. No, this was on the bouncy castle, with 3 other local dads, frightening off the teenagers, shouting about going for 'another fucking drink', just as Madame Mayor came round on her tour of meeting the plebs: bugger, there goes the planning application...
Diet assistance from travel companies continues, with only a single cup of coffee offered by SAS, during the second leg of Brussels-Oslo-Bergen. Melon and cucumber for breakfast. Hamstrings in top nick and a gym next to the hotel. Looking good.
Now listening to a longwinded discussion on paragraph 2.3.2 subsection (b) of some document I have not read. Norway quibbles; Netherlands throws the rattle out of the pram; bit of shocked silence, then good old UK smoothes the feathers via a stunning display of fence-sitting. Now here come the Germans... For the purposes of this meeting, my badge says I am part of the Swedish delegation. How did that happen? I do not know what the Swedish position is, in fact I only recognise the Swedes because they have a big toblerone with "SWEDEN" on it, right there on the table in front of them. I'm here only to run a 1 hour side-event tomorrow. But today I am being paid to sit in silence at the back of the room, so it would be churlish to complain. Now if only boredom were a weight-loss technique...
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