Picnic in the park

I missed my first day of blogging and am somewhat embarrassed about that, but I had a good excuse. I did take time out for dinner with Claire and Alison, but still had to return to the steamy confines of the London office to complete some critical work before midnight Monday. Too pooped to do the blog.

Another whirlwind day in the electrified atmosphere of the London office. Time just flies by here. You get into the office. Boom, it's noon and then 2 and zowie 4 and the West Coast is stirring. This was a good day. Made progress on the uber messaging and other key nitty gritty. Today turned out not as warm as predicted (good). Alison discovered the Pret (baugette, brie, tomato and basil).

Claire, Caroline and Rod invited Annette, Alison and I out to their cozy place at Holland Park. We walked the short distance to the park and partook in some wonderful French whites and tastey goodies. We heard the operat, but did not attend. Caroline ran Rod and I through our cricket courses.

Claire also steered me to a secret place that I'll write about later. Rod and I are going to run on Saturday. Gary, the doorman, has mapped out a new route for me tomorrow. I'm going west on the embankment from Waterloo Bridge towards Westminster, then back along the south embankment.

I took the tube there because I was late (proactive call). I much prefer the tube to the ultra expensive cabs here. It's how the people get around and it's fun. I took a bottle of Bergstrom Pinot Noir that I carried from Oregon. We returned to the hotel about 11 p.m. I'm writing from my favorite spot in the hotel bar where the cubans are good and Rui, the bartender is accommodating. He is Portugese and hoping for a better result from his boys tomorrow. We (Come On England) play Switzerland on Thursday at 5, which means the office will empty early. Germany and Holland tied today, which is a bit of a surprise. the Dutch were favored. Ladbrokes (I forgot to be last Sunday) still has the Brits at 8-1 and fourth favorite to win the Euro Cup.

Running out of steam . . . and time.