Under the radar

When I was a girl of about 8 years old I remember having a discussion with a friend about what we would be doing in the year 2000. The grand old age of 24 seemed awfully old. And awfully far away. My friend wanted to be an air hostess, so she could travel. I wanted to be an international business woman with a brief case who flew on planes so that I could travel and people like my friend would have to bring me coffee.

She ended up working the scene, having a selection of rich fiancees and travelling the world. A hostess of sorts. This weekend I ended up in business class with a laptop case going to see my clients. Actually not a business woman at all but having a lovely fantasy in my head.


Having woken up at 3am British time, after not much sleep due to nerves, barking dogs and men banging their ramadan drums in the early hours, I travelled for 9 hours door to door. By the time I actually met my new colleagues at noon I was having difficulty stringing coherent sentences together. Needless to say that at that ungodly hour I had not taken advantage of any free champagne on my flight.

We were checked into The Hiltons executive suite at canary wharf, on a package that entitled us to free booze and food until 11pm. I managed one free glass of wine the entire trip. Nor could I take advantage of my handsomely sized bath tub, I was too frightened that I'd fall asleep and drown.

The same night we had to attend the advertising agencies 60th anniversary party. Not their 23rd anniversary party as previously thought. My dreams of dancing girls and dashing men in black polo neck sweaters were soon dashed. In fact my expectations of food were sorely disappointed. Maybe the dancing girls and dashing men had retired into the toilets to do cocaine and had taken copious amounts of sandwiches with them? So on little more than a cocktail sausage in the previous 30 hours, a smattering of sleep and with raging PMT, you can imagine that I was slightly perturbed when my colleagues (who had told me it was a 60's fancy dress party) arrived in the hotel lobby wearing black cocktail dresses and I arrived looking like I fell out of Ghandi's bum. I used to have nightmares about that sort of thing when I was at school. They came true.

I think I hid it well enough though.

Again, the free wine flowed and I barely felt capable of drinking any of it. Not because I was looking at my dress, but through exhaustion. Where's the fun in that!?

One highlight was meeting my friend Gill, now in the motherly way, for coffee in Oxford street and realising that there was someone who probably felt more tired than me... although she did have that pregnancy bloom thing going on so carried it off rather well.

My dreams of fancy executive meals and first class living have been shattered. All I wanted for most of the week was an empty meeting room I could sleep under the table in and a couple of egg and cress sandwiches.

The last day was another all day meeting, which I had to leave early to get to the airport, only to find that the computer system controlling the radar in the whole of the south of england was down and all flights were cancelled. We were booked into a rather dubious airport hotel, full of business men from Milton Keynes, The sort of place that you would never want to pass a UV light over the curtains or bed spreads or else you'd never sit down without fear of getting pregnant. I kept expecting someone to jump out and say 'aha!' a la Alan Partridge. It was full of tossers. I had a couple of drinks and went away and hid in my smelly room. And sat on a Marks and Spencers carrier bag.


Anyway when I did finally get the plane the flight was lovely. Although I swear the woman serving me coffee sniggered. Had a great weekend with BF. Was going to go to cappadocia with him while he is working this week but we both realised that it would be a waste of time, because I'd just be sitting in a hotel room by myself when I should be doing stuff here.

It looks like I'll be leaving Turkey on 9th October. I have to start working for Ogilvy from Istanbul as of 1st October. I also have Klara visiting, which I am really looking forward to, and a whole host of paperwork and loose ends to tie up and people to say goodbye to.

So I may well be under the radar this week, and not for the first time.