Last night we had dinner in a lovely fish restaurant on the sea front. We were served a drink which the waiter swore was milk, but which clearly wasn't as it tasted spicy and was at least 60% alcohol. Together with huge salads and lots of toast it was a fabulous meal.
Now I sit on my bed watching Tony Blair giving his evidence on Iraq with the sun shining on the sea outside my window. Pretty soon it'll be time for a club sandwich.

Turkey Club Sandwich

Today I am in the beautiful city of Ismir, Turkey.
There is a large cargo boat drifting past my window, and a thick mist on the horizon. Palm trees too, loads of them. There are so many places I've never been, each time I visit a new one I'm amazed at what I didn't know existed. (Obviously I knew palm trees existed, but there is still something very exotic about them.) This hotel has a view to compete with the best- picture to follow.

Everyone so far has been extremely friendly, and the concert hall is really fabulous. I'm here to play Britten concerto, which is one of my very favourites, but unbelievably difficult.
Since the concert is tomorrow, I shall prepare by having a huge feast tonight, as I consider eating and drinking an important part of my pre-concert build-up. It's like being a boxer, working towards a fight, training towards that one, crucial event. Except with perhaps more lying in bed eating club sandwiches. And no exercising.
I'm actually on a personal mission to find the most expensive club sandwich in the world. Monaco is currently in the lead at £28. Here it's only £16 which sounds like a bargain.

More soon.

No soap

I am sitting in an airport hotel, having just boarded a plane, waited 2 hours, and got off it again. The French air traffic controllers are on strike, so we are stuck in Copenhagen. Tomorrow I was to be in Paris, now I will have to go straight to London. The ironic part of this is that I am in a hotel which has no soap. A Hilton hotel, with all kinds of shiny things dangling from the ceilings, and a room rate which made me cry real tears, but they have run out of soap. It's ironic because they ordered it from London, and the snow prevented it from arriving. So the weather is currently effecting my travel plans to the point that I am having to wash my hands with shower gel.

A word on travelling. I don't particularly like travelling, truth be told, in as much as the actual getting from one place to another. I'm convinced that it is bad for the body to be hurled forwards and backwards at such speeds but I can't prove that fact yet. I find it tiring, and I always feel travel sick. This means I'm not much good at reading while travelling so it's pretty boring too. I quite like train journeys as they are usually fairly straightforward. You can look out the window, (unless you're sitting backwards in which case you'd better keep your eyes shut) and there's no checkin, security control, passport check, shuttle to terminal, bus to plane, boarding, safety briefing, taxi to runway, take-off, landing, taxi to parking spot, bus to terminal, baggage collection, passport check….
With a train, you just get on, and then get off when you arrive.

I do like hotels though, in general. When they have soap.