We're off to see the ... er ...

On Sunday morning I'm off to Jersey for four days. By the time I get back, my internet connection should be up and running again, so with any luck I'll be able to upload a few photos. (Might not be the Emerald City though.)

In the meantime, I've a sangria party to host tonight and a friend's 40th tomorrow. If only the weather were as fab ...

Highs and lows

I've just returned from singing at the funeral of the doyenne of the choir - a 75-year-old alto who was a great character, to say the least. There were a couple of difficult moments for me, largely (I think) because this was the first funeral since my father's which I have attended for someone I knew, even if not hugely well.

On a more positive note, I've sorted out holidays for the next few months, very much along similar lines to last year: a trip to Jersey in early July almost immediately followed by a trip to London and France for my mother's birthday. She's also coming to visit in mid-June, prompted by Scottish Opera's performance of Lucia di Lammermoor. We'll also be fitting in a dîner français (at which I'm serving just French food and all conversation is required to be in that language) and an open-air performance of The life of Jesus Christ at Dundas Castle, all in the space of five days.

In the meantime, work continues with its peaks and troughs of activity. It's one of the latter at the moment, as you might have gathered: last up, we were dealing with tickets for the end-of-Festival fireworks ballot. Next up is, well, twiddling our thumbs for a bit ...

ADDENDUM (12:14, 02/06/2007) I forgot to mention the degree of consternation precipitated in my colleagues by the revelation that I'm going on holiday to Jersey with a woman. And no, it isn't my mother!

The answer

I'm having a fine time not telling my colleagues where Thomas took me last week - you see, they'd requested a postcard, so I've pointed out (perfectly reasonably, if a little mischievously) that there's no point in my telling them because it'd ruin the surprise when it arrives.

It wasn't in the post on Saturday and today's a public holiday, so they're having to be very patient ... Not so you, dear reader, as I will now exclusively reveal that we were in Amsterdam.

The weather was gorgeous (to the extent that I, with my very sensitive skin, got a little sunburnt) and we had a grand time overall, being cultural on the second day by visiting the Rijksmuseum - sort of "Rembrandt and friends" - in the morning, though deciding the queues for Anne Frank's house were a bit much come the afternoon. The first day we'd spent wandering around in an attempt for me to get my bearings. It struck me that in the vast majority of places, which side of the river you're on is a convenient way of describing your location; a bit more difficult when the city you're visiting is traversed by endless canals!

The one thing that was very much under par was the accommodation. The hotel in which we were staying put us in a dingy little basement room, the only natural light coming from a window in the shower cubicle. As if the softness of the mattress weren't bad enough - it engulfed us both - we were woken up at 8:30am by the sound of drilling in the room underneath. It turned out they were reinforcing the foundations of the building, but as we'd already had a pretty sleepless night owing to the heat, we requested that the builders be asked not to drill before 10 o'clock the next morning.

They started at 7:15am.

Thomas went out to have a word with reception, noticing along the way that there were notes up around the place asking the builders not to drill until 10am - which they'd clearly ignored - and for the following quarter of an hour we heard no drills. What we did hear was hammering, before the drills started again. We got up, dressed and left the hotel in search of silence.

Thankfully that experience didn't spoil my impressions of the city, as I've every intention of going back, possibly with my mother. Just not to that hotel ...

Anthony and Thomas' Magical Mystery Tour

Thomas is being deliciously cagey about where we're going - after some time suggesting we were going to be driving somewhere (which could have been bluffing), there appears to have been a change of plan.

Yesterday he emailed me these instructions: We leave [from his flat] tomorrow at 6pm - come tomorrow with small overnight bag with ordinary clothes (small enough to be hand baggage only) passport & Euros. I asked him what weather we're to expect there and if I should bring walking shoes, which got the following response: No mountain goat walking involved but some sturdy shoes as a reasonable amount of walking will be involved ... Weather – same as here [i.e. sunny, possibly a bit windy].

My colleagues at work have been having a fine time speculating about possible destinations. I'm not going to tell you where they've suggested, because I'd like to see what any readers of this blog think. (There've not exactly been a lot of comments left on my recent posts, so take the hint - it's my birthday on Friday, call it a present.)