I woke up today having had a glorious 14-hour kip. Unfortunately I’d been snoring so my mouth smelt/tasted/felt like a car had been parked in it all night. I miss being able to do that every day…
It’s been a while since my last post. As I had been ranting previously, the department I work for were all whisked away to a two-day conference at Center Parcs (sic) at Longleat this week. It wasn’t as hellishly unenjoyable as I’d feared it would be, but it was inherently pointless. Center Parcs was incredibly peaceful and tranquil, and mobile phone reception was severely limited so the perfect place to get away from it all.
There are lots of photos of the trip. I could post them, but only if you REALLY like trees. And fog.
Our first activity was a several-hour “ice breaking” session, hosted by two (presumably unsuccessful) actors. I think I could probably describe it best in saying it was scarily reminiscent of birthday parties I went to as a six year old.
One game involved everyone sitting in a circle with one fewer chairs than there were people. The person in the middle has to ask the room a question which rings true for them, then each of the people who can answer ‘yes’ to that question have to get up and sit in a different seat. For example, I could have said “Is there anyone who has graduated at UCL?”. However, I was WAY cleverererer than that, so asked “Is anyone breathing?” Naturally, everyone had to get up and chaos ensued. What I should have asked was “Does anyone think this is a load of bollocks?”
Lunch was a “buffet” consisting of chicken nuggetty things or cheesy bread for the veggies. Plus a truckload of salad. I wasn’t at all impressed with this. I cleared the tray of what was left of the chicken, much to the dismay of the people behind me in the queue. I did not feel guilty. They did have chocolate cake though. I had most of that, too.
Having said goodbye to the luvvies, the afternoon was a “brainstorming” session, where all the academic types discussed where medical imaging is headed in the future. I’m just a lowly web designer, so I was lost. Were it not for the fact that I had a steaming headache, I’d have fallen sound asleep. We were divided into groups, with each group nominating a representative to make a speech about the discussion. One guy steadfastly refused to do it, suggesting the rest of us think of a number between 1 and 8 and whoever guesses correctly has to do it. A very flawed system, considering anyone who watched his arm movement closely as he drew the number under the table would know it was 3. So I guessed 6 and secured myself 2 hours of tune-out time.
Then came the real “ice breaking” session – finding who has the keys to the villa we were staying in.
The genius organisers decided to put five people in three-bedroom villas (one double, 2 x 2 single beds) with two keys between them. One guy decided to sod off somewhere so four of us walked for about half an hour until we got there. It was surprisingly pleasant, it almost convinced me that one could walk for pleasure rather than a need to get from A to B.
The combination of fog, empty tree-lined roads and dim lighting did make me feel like I was on the set of a low-budget 80s horror flick, and some masked madman with a knife was waiting in the bushes to jump out and stab me dead. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I’m digressing. The four of us arrived at the villa and none of us were impolite enough to steal the double bed. Apart from me. Slept like a baby. You snooze, you lose.
Dinner that evening was pretty good, mainly because they had a chocolate fountain for dessert. I asked the waitress if I could wheel it back to my room. She laughed. Then I asked again. And she laughed again. She must have thought I was joking or something.
The next morning was a huge buffet English breakfast followed by a stupid outdoor activity to work off some of that grease. Teams of four or five were given two planks and some ropes, with which each team had to cross a section of beach without touching the sand. I assure you that it was far less fun than it sounds. Our team (which included one of the heads of department, no less) decided to tie the wood to our feet using the rope and walk across as if we were joint riders on a set of supersize skis. Unfortunately, halfway across I lost my balance and fell – with even less grace than you picture it right now – twisting my wrist on the way down and exclaiming “FUCK!” really loudly. And silencing everyone.
Later that day we had another fabled “brainstorming” exercise to work out what improvements are needed in the department. In a move not at all related to a vested interest, I proposed – then lobbied tirelessly all day for – a full-time web person. I would have felt a little shameless if each group hadn’t come to the same conclusion – which they did. So maybe if my grant funding doesn’t come through in April, then maybe I’ll still have a job…
Center Parcs (sic) is quite a nice place. It’s pretty stupid that were were taken all the way there (a six-hour round trip, no less) with no chance to properly use the facilities there. And by that I mean the REALLY cool-looking waterslide which starts indoors, goes outdoors, then back in again. I would imagine mid-November is a pretty good time to go, seeing as the only people I saw there were delegates from Sainsbury’s and a smattering of gung-ho outdoorsy middle-class types. Which is a lot better than chavs.
Today’s fact of the day is: Canary Wharf tube station has more tossers per square inch during peak hours than anywhere else in the world. Stop getting in my fucking tube carriage, harping on about Mike in Accounts and your 5-grand Golden Hello! I Hate Canary Wharf. At least at rush hour. During the day (when the suits are being fisted by the corporate machine) or at the weekends (when they’re in their warehouse conversions, snorting charlie or having heart attacks/nervous breakdowns aged 27), Canary Wharf is quite pleasant.