Rutger and I were walking home from dinner at Sing Sing, a very trendy Asian fusion restaurant/bar in his neighborhood last night. I was taking pictures of some of the interesting cafes with their tables spilling out into the sidewalks that you see all over Amsterdam.

When I was taking a shot of the Ristorante Bellavista, on Johannes Verhulstraat, the most desirable address in Amsterdam, right around the corner from Rutger's place, there was Ruud Gullit carrying a football that one of his kids who was playing in the street had kicked into the restaurant. If you don't know who he is, check his bio on Wikipedia.

Rutger's neighborhood, south of the Rijksmuseum and just east of the Vondelpark is one of the most popular in Amsterdam, filled with local Dutch celebrities, TV presenters, games show hosts, footballers like Gullit and Marco van Basten. The lead singer from Golden Earring lives around the corner. No one bothers them. It's not like at home. There are no paparazzi, it seems, and they can live what look like normal lives with only the occasional overzealous tourist and football fan pulling out a camera at an inopportune moment.

Posted by andrew at 11:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

It's hard for someone who's not been here to get a sense of how many bicycles there are. I thought there were a lot in Oxford, but that's nothing. Here in Holland and more so in Utrecht which is a university town than in Amsterdam, there are bikes everywhere. I mean everywhere. If you like to ride, Holland is the place for you.

There are a huge piles locked up to each other. They are locked to every available piece of metal attached the ground or a wall. Amsterdam probably has the same problem with bikes that San Francisco has with cars. There are more bikes than there are places to park them. Sometimes finding a place to lock down is tricky.

And when I say locked. I mean locked. Every Dutch bike, and these are mostly simple one gear coster brake variety, have a spoke lock in the rear and most people have two additional locks. It seems crazy to me that in a country where everyone has at least one bike that there should be a problem with bike theft, but there is. I can remember Rutger telling me a few years ago that some enterprise thief figured out that you can shatter a Kryptonite U-lock with a Volvo jack which is why you never see them. Only the massive chain variety.

I've been borrowing Rutger's bike. He, understandably is very safety conscious. The front door to his house is like Ft. Knox and there are three locks on the bike, so I really have to want to stop when I am riding because it's an ordeal to secure the bicycle. There's the spoke lock as I mentioned. There's a standard chain and then there is the massive, this bike isn't going anywhere, ring chain. So there is no danger of the bike being stolen. The only danger is accidentally dropping the keys in the canal, which would basically mean the bike will be locked in situ for the rest of time or until the fire brigrade decides to remove it.

Everyone is on bikes. Everyone. Old grandmothers, men in three piece suits, school kids, beautiful women that anywhere else could be models, but here in Holland, they ride bikes. People ding their friends on the rack or the handle bars. Kids ride standing on the back with their hands on their father's shoulders. Dogs ride in the baskets in front, calm as if it was the natural way for a pooch to get around town.

Bike paths are everywhere, in the parks, along the streets. If you like to ride, this is the place for you. The city is essentially flat. The only hills come courtesy of the little canal bridges, so the single gear bikes do the trick.

Beyond the basic bicycles that you see all over, you have your more utilitarian machines, some with little chairs for children, some with buckets or baskets or plaforms in front even. And people are carrying everything. You see people with their shopping bags or with flowers or with a new TV set or just about anything you can imagine.

The coaster brakes take some getting used tp. I had them on my bike as I kid but I've been so imprinted to squeeze the brake with my hand that it likes a Pavlovian response that I can't help, so I've come to some embarrassingly skidding stops and have just managed to avoid several accidents, which surprisingly considering the amount of bikes, the trams and the cars, there are blessedly few of. I did manage one minor scrape. I was stopped, straddling the bike, trying to put on my sweater when the bike slipped out from under me in the middle of a very crowded square and smashed the tail light in the billion bits. Only cost a few euros to replace, so no big deal, but how embarrasing.

Anyway, I'm going to have to make a few videos during rush hour so you can see what I am talking about it. I'll try to remember to do it today.

Posted by andrew at 11:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It's easy to get the wrong impression of . The train station is adjacent to the largest mall in the country and you have to make your make through a mass of stores and throngs of people to get to the town. The center of town is a bustling place, built around canals, but if you take a wrong turn, as I did, you can easily find yourself in the residential part of the city with nothing much to look at and no map to find your way around. It was fine though. I needed a nice long walk after spending a few days on a bike around Amsterdam.

The problem, well, not really a problem, but how I got so off course, was that I was looking for a tower which Utrecht it famous (see above). except I didn't know what to look for so I just headed out for the first tower I saw which turned out not to be the famous Dom Tower, the tallest in Holland, but something else, some closed museum, with an implossibly long and unpronouncable Dutch name. Because of that, I basically circumnambulated the town, again, which is fine, because I saw parts of the city that I'm sure very few tourists see. Interesting. Yes. Mindblowing. Not so much.

I wound my way through city streets and parks and canals and finally found the Dom Tower. It's not too hard since It looms over the town in the way only a massive Gothic tower can.

I finally understood why my friend Cathy, who lived in Utrecht for some time, suggested that I visit. Around the real center of the city (not the part near the train station, which is nice, but not the same) there is so much activity. Long summer days bring the Dutch out in droves. They are picnicing in the park, sunning themselves in outdoor cafes, shopping in clever boutiques and riding their bikes all over the place. The houses along the canal that runs perpendicular to the tower have basements that open out to the terrace along the water. Families are having dinner, friends are barbequing, people are hanging out, cats are strolling around. The street above is lined with shops and restaurants and there is so much bicycle traffic it's hard to fathom for someone who comes from a car culture.

And there are gorgeous women everywhere. That is, if you're into the tall, blond blue-eyed, well built norse goddess type. And they seem so down to earth. How hard can it be to approach a beautiful who is cycling around town? It's impossible to imagine a Parisian girl doing the same thing. Too fragile. Too particular. Too high-maintanence.

And towering above it all is the ever present Dom. Truly spectacular with gothic spires and peaked archways. You can climb the 450 odd steps to the top, but only when it's open. I arrived too late. The view must be unbelievable. Looking down on the structure of the town, the buildings that wind in circles around the canals, the open squares filled with cafes tables. I'll have to go back the next time I visit Holland.

I would have liked to just sit in a cafe, have a beer or a glass of savignon blanc and just take in the scene, but I have such a problem doing that. I have the hardest time just relaxing when I'm in a new place. I feel compelled to see every inch of it and drive myself to walk almost continually. It's madness, I know, but it's been my modus opernadi for years and unless I consciously stop and force myself to sit I'm like a perpetual motion machine.

I finally gave in around 7 in evening, still very light since darkness falls in the Dutch summer around 11 or so. I found a greek cafe on the tiny road that runs under the Dom, bought a souvlaki and sat under the tower, watching the cycle traffic whiz by, girls who look like Uma Thurman talking on cell phones walking by with the Tower, wrapped in crenallations and spires above it all.

Then it was time to head back to the train station, back through the mall for the 1/2 hour train back to Amsterdam. I rode my bike from the Centraal Station, up through the center of town, people everywhere. Utrecht is a sleepy town in comparison. Emerryville is a morgue. I rode past the Rijsmuseum and into the Vondelpark where every inch of sun drecnched grass was occupied by picnicers drinking rose and enjoying the fleeting Dutch summer. What a great place this is.

Posted by andrew at 11:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Everyone is talking about the fall of the Dutch government. I suspect it won' change ery much. Tourists will continue to come and go. Trains will run on time and life will go on much as normal as it can here in Amsterdam.

Political crisis in the Netherlands as government resigns

The Netherlands is facing a political crisis and early elections after the centre-right government of Prime Minister Jan Peter Balkenende announced it is resigning.

It comes after a row over the immigration minister prompted the D66 party to quit the ruling coalition.

It withdrew its support over Rita Verdonk's tough stance on the citizenship of a Somali-born Dutch politician.

She had threatened to strip Ayaan Hirsi Ali of her citizenship for lying about her refugee status on arrival in the country in 1992.

Balkanende made the resignation announcement in parliament and afterwards said it was regrettable as the government was making progress with reforms.

Elections, initially scheduled for May 2007, could take place in September at the earliest.

Hirsi Ali resigned from parliament last month and said she would leave the Nethernlands after Verdonk threatened to withdraw her citizenship.The minister reversed her decision after Hirsi Ali submitted a statement saying she had not intended to lie to the authorities.

Posted by andrew at 11:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I arrived in Amsterdam two nights ago for the final, non-corporate funded leg of the trip. I'm staying with good friends Rutger & Marielle (and orney cat Dickie) in their beautifully remodelled townhouse about 15 minutes south of the central station by tram.

I met Rutger & Marielle on the way from Bangkok to Northern Cambodia. We started talking and joking around at the first rest stop and haven't really stopped much since. Rutger is the one responsible (although Marielle might have had a hand in this) for the sign in .

I'll be here til Sunday. I seem to be able to pick up an unsecured wireless internet signal so I should be able to update some of my travels since I left Barcelona, especially now that the World Cup is taking a breather and I don't feel compelled to watch 3 hours of football every day.

But for the now the sun is shining, the skies are blue and it's no time to waste sitting around the house when Amsterdam is out there waiting to be explored.

Posted by andrew at 10:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Photos of the incomparable in Paris are up now. The place is simply amazing. I walked around for 3 hours in the rain on the ankle breaking cobble stones streets that connect up the dozens of districts, and I wish I had 3 hours more. I could spend days wanderng around the tombs, taking photographs and hunting for famous resting spots. This time I found Oscar Wilde, Frederick Chopin, Sarah Bernhardt, George Suerat and of course, Jim Morrision, but there are dozens more including Gertude Stein, Moliere, Max Ernst, Edith Piaf, Louis David, Check out and see for yourself.

Posted by andrew at 10:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Im not to get into details now, but suffice it to say that Ive been running a massive sleep deficit since last Saturday when I got home at 3am and realized that I had to catch a 920am flight from London to Zurich. Working backwards from 920, with the hour that you want to arrive before the flight and another hour to get to Heathrow and at least 30 minutes to get up, pack, shower, shave, check out, I was looking at a 650am wake up call.

I couldnt get to sleep right away (by the way, in case you were wondering, I cant figure out how to make apostrophes on this Spanish keyboard), I got maybe 3 hours, if Im lucky. I dont sleep on planes much so no catching up en route to Switzerland. I arrived around noon. I could have taken a nap, but it was too nice of a day and Im congenitally disposed to exploring new places so I wandered around Zurich all day, caught the WC matches on a big screen in the middle of town.

I had to get up really early to get ready, press my clothes, find my way to train station and meet my counterpart in Basel, more than an hour away. Then days of the exact same, exept we would eat dinner in Basel and talk about work. It gets dark late and before you know it, its 1030pm and you have find the tram to train station, an hour on the train back to Zurich, 10-15 minutes on the tram to the hotel and the overnight guy laughs as you stroll into the hotel at 1230am and request a 530 wake up. You are joking, he says to me. I wish.

No rest for the weary back in London. The conference I was attending was too social and I couldnt not go out in London on Friday, especially my buddy Jacks wife was off in Italy and was free to bar hop. Now in Barcelona, any (dis) illusion that I had about catching up on my sleep here went by the wayside last night as I was up until 5 in the morning drinking and talking to my former counterpart and all around cool guy, Marco.

Im just going to have to give into the idea that Im going to be feeling like a malnutrished zombie for the next week or so. Its far more appealing to catch up on sleep in say, Emeryville, than it will be in Amsterdam, Paris or Madrid.

Posted by andrew at 03:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The flight is boarding now. Finally. I'm off to the gate. See you's all in Barcelona! ;)

Posted by andrew at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I had one of those mad dashes to the airport. I was out having Bangladeshi food in Brick Lane, East London. Finished in plenty of time to get back to the hotel, collect my bags and make Heatrow well before departure. The taxi drive drove like a madman. The fare was 52 pounds and change. More than a hundred bucks, but he did exactly what I wanted, drive like Jensen Button so I told him to round of the fare to 60 quid. I'm paying by credit card, I had no pounds left, and he runs the card on the machine and the tab comes up to 66 pounds. Knowing I was in a hurry, he tried to fuck me. I couldn't really say anything since I'd have missed my flight, or so I thought. So I just signed it and I'll deal with Amex later.

The check-in line is blissfully short. The woman at the desk tells me the flight is on time and I have about 25 minutes to get through security and get my tuchus to the gate. I even have time to stop off at the BA lounge and grab a cold drink. Security is not nearly the pain in the ass in Europe as it at home. No pointless taking off of the shoes, for example. And I'm cruising to the gate. Only I get to the get which is at the ass end of Heathrow Terminal 1 and there is no one there. No passengers. No Attendants. No Pilots. Just a plane and a deserted gate. I asked someone at another gate and, well, it turns out the flight is delayed. An hour. I head back to the British Airways lounge to see if I can't have a shower.

I was a sweaty mess. Another hot day in London, close to 30 degrees. Not a cloud in the sky absolutely beautiful. I'd been walking all day, and I was exhausted and covered in sweat. After I checked out and had breakfast, I headed up towards Buckingham Palace which was right around the corner from my hotel. I heard someone saying that the changing of the guard was on at 11. I didn't get there by 11, but it was a little more pomp an circustance than a simple changing of the guard. It turns out it was the queen's 80th birthday today. Good timing again. Tons of tourists are surrounding all the streets around the palace. Police everywhere. Irish Guards (the ones in the bearskin hats, lining the streets. Mounted horse brigade in formation in front of the entrance gate. Union Jack bunting flying on every lamp post. Amazing.

A few minutes after I arrive, the parade starts. One formation after another. One carriage with some women, I have no idea who, some royals perhaps. And then an open black carriage with the queen, dressed in purple from head to toe. I'm not exactly startstruck by this sort of thing, on the other, this is not exactly something you see every day. I was just lucky to be in the right place at the right time

I got out of the palace area and away from the hordes of tourists as soon as I could and headed up to Hyde Park, walked along the serpentine lake, around the the Diana memorial fountain (pretty cool by the way), really wishing I had on shorts instead of jeans (what an idiot I am). I left the park and headed down to the Museum District for a peek around the Victoria & Albert Museum. Had never been there before. Interesting collection. I wish I was a little more lucid and able to appreciate it. I strolled around, most enjoying the AC and in a state of dream sleep deprived bliss as I tried to take in the massive Raphael "Cartoons" and the extensive South Asian collection, tons of artifacts and gifts collected and gived to the royal family.

The building itself is worth checking out. I don't know much of the details, but it was bombed fairly heavily by the Germans. When you walk around the outside, you can see where the shellls damaged the facade. Insdie, there's a blessedly cool interior courtyrad with a fountain you cool your feet in and a little cafe selling sandwiches and things. I would have stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, but I wanted to see Phil again. I never know when I'll makle it back this way. Hopefully it won't be another 17 years, but you never know.

He was able to get away for a few hours and we agreed to meet near Brick Lane to get some Bangladeshi food. It was straight shot from South Kensington to the Brick Lane area. Phil had a more circuitious route, had a make a few changes and the Tube was delayed here and there. I waited for him for more than hour, which sucked, not because of the waiting, which I'm never a fan of but can deal with, but because I was starting to feel un stroked and dehydrated. I bought a few bottles of water and found a nice cool place to sit down, The Whitechapel Gallery, as it turns out. Phil finally we turned. We had some Baltis, pappadams and garlic naan at some place on Brick Lane. It was superb. Something I missed on my first trip to the UK.

Phil toured me around the area for about 20 minutes. Then we headed back to the Underground. Phil's train came. We said our goodbyes and he disappeared down the tube. 30 minutes later, my train still hadn't arrived. I wasn't panicing or anything, but I was seriously cutting it close. I was tired, still am as I write this, covered in sweat and ready just to be on my way. The Tube was hot as hell and that didn't help matters. Finally the train arrived. Maybe took 30 minutes to get me back to St. James Park where I had to collect my bags and arrange for a taxi. And you know the rest.

So I'm back at the BA lounge and I find the spa where I can have a shower. I'm going to have to get back into my sweaty clothes, so this isn't going to be the best thing ever, but it will feel good and kill some time while I wait for my delayed flight. Eveything would have great except for two things. One is that the drainage in the shower was fucked and the bathroom flooded. No big deal, except that I hadn't noticed and by the time I realized what was going on, one of my shoes was inundated. It was good thing I didn't have my laptop bag on the floor, eh?

The other thing, a larger problem, was that the AC was busted in the spa so as soon as I showered and dried off, I was sweaty all over again. Pretty pointless excercise.

Now the flight is delayed even further. Orgininally it was 6:15. Then 7:15 and now 7:40. Which means I will probably miss all the the USA v. Italy game which starts locally at 8. I don't rate the USA and I think Italy will spank us, but I'd still like to the see the game.

Posted by andrew at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm off to Barcelona this afternoon. I'll be there for 5 days so I should have time to catch up on some writing, but I've thought and said that before. I have a few hours before my flight to roam around here in London. I think I'll go off and do some touristy things, Buckingham Palace, museums, Hyde Park, etc. Cheerio!

Posted by andrew at 02:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Still haven't had time to post, but I have tons of going up as I write this. I'm about to go out and meet Jack, one of my old friends from Melbourne. I went to his birthday party last weekend, just one of the many things that I haven't had a chance to write about.

The conference I was attending, @Media, is over. I'm headed off to Barcelona tomorrow. Still a day left to explore London. No time for sleep even though I'm exhausted.

Posted by andrew at 10:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I don't know how this is possible since everyone here is in decent shape, many in really good shape and none whatsoever obese, but it seems that Swiss (and the British as well now that I think about it) subsist on a diet of sausage, beer and ice cream. How is that possible?

Posted by andrew at 11:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sorry folks. I've been so busy I haven't had time to update the site. Lots has happened. There's tons of things I want to' write about and intend to write about. I'll probably back date everything just to keep the timeline correct and hopefully I can start working on it when I get back to the UK tomorrow where my life won't be as hectic as it's been here in Switzerland.

Posted by andrew at 04:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It seems my cats, seemingly normal under regular supervision, are like a couple mental patients who when you look the other way for a minute are smearing their feces all over the walls. Here's a report from my sister tonight:

Mak & Fil are AOK :-)
I filled up the food & water & changed the litter & gave them a couple of treats & some love.

Just a couple of FYIs....

1) There were some scouter ants by the food and by the door. I cleaned up the food bits that were out of the bowl and killed the ants. I don't think there is anything more that can be done at this point, but keep an eye out for more please.

2) One of the kitties either pooed outside the box, or pulled a poo from inside to the bathroom floor & stepped in it more than a couple of times. I cleaned this up and put up the bathroom rug (I figure the cats may eventually either pee or poo on it, so just get it out of the way.)

That's all for now!

Fucking incredible.

Posted by andrew at 10:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

My brother, who is a huge Steelers fan, which makes sense, because like me, he grew up in a hard-working blue-collar steel working family in the heart of Pennsylvania, got an invite to the Steelers visit to the White House last week:

You are cordially invited
to the White House for an event

honoring the

Super Bowl XL World Champion

Pittsburgh Steelers

Friday, June 2, 2006

The White House

South Lawn

Gates open at 12:50 p.m.

Arrive no later than 1:15 p.m.

This invitation is not transferable and space is limited. Please RSVP with your full name, date of birth, and social security number to Tracy Smith at or

no later than 11:00 a.m. Tuesday, May 30th

Guests should arrive via the Southeast Visitors entrance.

In the case of inclement weather the event will be cancelled. Please call Friday beginning at 7:30 a.m. to check the status of this event.

Photo ID is required for admittance onto White House Complex.

The event was cancelled due to "inclement weather" and instead he was invited to a reception at the office of man on dog boy himself, Rick Santorum, with a few of the players. I don't know if know if he went (Brian did you go?). He was so excited about seeing the team at the White House. It would have beem great. Sorry, Bri.

Posted by andrew at 10:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I have a bet going with a colleague at work who weighs about 10 pounds less than me that when I come home from this trip, 4 weeks long, eating out all the time and not working out regularly, I will outweigh him by 20 pounds. He's probably right. So far, I haven't even smelled a gym and I've been eating some rather rich foods that I would never eat at home. Hopefully I can make up for it by doing a lot of walking, which is my normal MO when in new places.

Posted by andrew at 10:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

The trip from Heahrow to Phil's place in Bounds Green was supposed to be a breeze. He's on the same line (Picadilly) that runs out of the airport. Granted, it's 30 odd stops, but no changing trains, figuring out what platform to be on, getting lost, hauling bags around. Just get on the train and wait it out. It was supposed to take about an hour. Did it happen like that? Of course not. It wouldn't fit in with the profile.

Before I boarded the train, I was met by a gang of Underground employees handing out pamphlets that described the construction going on today and what we had to get where we wanted to go. Several stations in the middle of the city were out of operation, so If you wanted to get anywhere on the Picadilly line past Acton Town (about 6 stops from Heathrow), you needed to take the train to Acton Town, get out of the Tube and take a bus from Acton Town to North Acton. From there, you'd head back underground for the Central line and then change to the Picadilly line at Holborn (magically pronounced "Hoeburn").

What should have taken about an hour lasted more than 3 as I dragged my sorry sleep deprived ass and three large pieces of luggage on a scenic tour of of the London transit system.

Who could have predicted that? I guess I should have.

When I was last in London in 1989, I was visiting my friend Jason who was doing a year abroad here. He gave me instructions how to get from Victoria Station to Tooting Bec, the shit hole suburb town where the university stuck him. Right before he hung up, he said wait, I better give you an alternate route in case there's a bomb threat. Back then it was the IRA trying to blow the stuffing out of English commuters). Sure enough, I get o the Tube and I can't board whatever train I'm supposed to take because someone's called in a bomb threat.

Posted by andrew at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

England is in grips of an insane football madness in the lead up to the World Cup which starts this Friday over in Germany. Just as every tourney, England think they have a chance to win. More than a chance, really. That they are going to win it. No doubt about it. No questions asked. This is the team. This is the year. I'm afraid it's all part of a national optimistic delusion that takes hold of this country every 4 years.

The country is obsessed. Flags are everywhere. In windows. On pub doorways. On cars. exhorts the faithful to cheer on "their boys". The newspaper is rampant speculating on everyhing from the state of striker Wayne Rooney's broken foot (the headline in the paper today was "Metatarsal Miracle") to the strange and sordid sex life of soon to be departed Swedish coach Sven Goran Eriksson.

The problem is, while England invented the sport and are quite good at it, they are not the best. Not even by a long shot. That honor, without doubt, goes to Brazil. If Brazil occupy the top tier alone, England falls somewhere in the second grouping along Holland, Spain, Germany, Argentina and the Czech Republic. On top of that England perpertually underacheive, find some way to lose close games or games they should win, and disappoint the populace.

With hopes running so high, I fear that if England put on their typical performance and fall short of expecations, the entire country will fall into a desparate malaise, for which the only answer is, as my buddy John says, to pass out the anti-depressants now. At least it would be proactive.

Posted by andrew at 10:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm having a little trouble getting my body adjusted to this new time zone. Part is due to the flight. I slept, but only under the influence of Amien and not very well or long. Then my first morning here I was up by a conversation on the street that went something like this:

What time is it, mate?
It's fookin' 4am
4 fookin' am? Are you fookin' kiddin' me?

It was like waking up on the set of Lock, Stock and 2 Smoking Barrels.

It was light outside. I coudn't be 4am? But I looked at my clock and sure enough, it was 4am. Actually. that's not quite right. It was 4 fookin' am.

The official sunrise isn't until around 4:45, but it was light far before then. The sun doesn't set until well after 9, but it stays light until almost 10. It's hard to get used to the idea of 2 hours of darkness before midnight. The days are really long and that's great, but it gets late incredibly fast after darkness falls.

I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't manage it. Even reading the FA Football Yearbook 2 didn't do the trick.

Posted by andrew at 10:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I arrived safely in London. Spent a pleasant afternoon hagning out with my old friend from Santa Cruz, and their lovely 9 month old ginger haired daughter . I'm off to Oxford tomorrow for the rest of the week. Neither of my phones are working, which is a bit of a bummer. However, the weather is amazing, about 75 degrees with blue skies. I'm off to see a bit of . More details later.

Posted by andrew at 02:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Getting ready to take off for London tonight. The internary is finalized. Finally. I'm leaving tonight for London. Going to spend the weekend there. Then a week working in Oxford. Another weekend in London. Zurich/Basel for 3 days. Back to London for a web design conference. Down to Barcelona for the weekend and an internal tech support meeting for 3 days. Then to Madrid to meet with my old counterpart who's taking me to a customer site. Then to our Paris office for 1-2 days depending on how things go. Then I'm off for a week am going to head up to Amsterdam.

It's going to be a great trip. Going to see some old friends in London, Madrid and Amsterdam, Hopefully make some new ones. Eat a lot of good food. Drink a lot of good wine. And, oh yea, maybe get some work done.

I'm going to try to a better job of blogging from the road than I've done in the past. I'll have my computer with me and my camera and I should internet access in all the hotels. Stay tuned. My flight is in 4 hours, so off to SFO.

Posted by andrew at 09:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)