I am meeting with my ex-Managing Director at lunchtime today.
He was lucky enough to retire at 50 years old and take up a life time of ski instructing in the winter and walking in the summer. It's a tough life.
He is returning to his natural overseas habitat at the end of the week, so we are catching up today. It would be nice to say that we are going for a spot of lunch, but I cannot think of anywhere in the locale that serves milkshakes.
Meeting at a mainline railway station presents its own psychological difficulties because all of them in London have stalls selling traditional Cornish pasties. I am very fond of them and their smell travels. I guess I will have to do my impression of the kids in the "Bisto advert" - Ahhhhh Bisto. At least it will be better than me with my faced pressed up against MacDonald's yesterday dribbling down the window (don't worry, I only imagined that one as I walked past).
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