I had been concerned about my visa. Belarus has an interesting system for visas. The ideal and cheapest way is to get a visa in your own country in the normal way. However Belarus doesn’t have representation in every country, so they have a differential system. You can always buy a visa at the Minsk international airport, day or night, but you get charged a lot more if your passport comes from a country where they have an embassy. I was thus in a catch-22. My passport is a UK one so the expectation is that I should get a visa there. Of course living in Athens this is impractical as I can’t afford the time to go back to London for two weeks and surrender my passport, so I opted to pay the extra and buy it at the airport.

The local company sent me my invitation letter, and instructions that I must bring cash in Euros with crisp fresh notes (apparently the authorities don’t like folded ones) so I came with a pile fresh from the ATM).

After landing I was met by two colleagues, one of whom relieved me of my passport, invite letter, completed form, photograph and pile of money. I was slightly worried as I had landed at 11.15 pm that there would be problems but was reassured that you can get a visa any time day or night. My other colleague took me to a seating area where we waited.

The process was not too long and at 11.45 my colleague returned with a shiny new visa and a receipt, and a pile of Euros 235 fewer than when I began.

One colleague came with our driver back to the hotel, and when I had checked in drove home. The hotel was a Crowne Plaza and also houses a nightclub and a casino. There were some very stunningly dressed women outside the night club, and the sound of music thumping. I was wondering what they were all doing on a Tuesday night at 12.30 am, but needed my sleep for next day so left that question unresolved.

I slept well and had a fearsomely expensive and rather average breakfast. My driver from the office was waiting outside and drove me to the office. The day was sunny and we drove along a main road heading to the edge of town. The city of Minsk appears to be laid out on a fairly grand scale, with spacious avenues. There was considerable construction work going on, both with roads and buildings. The streets were crowded, as were the stops. It was clear that public transport is important for many people. In the warm sunshine people were switching to summer clothes. I think there is something about living in a wintry country. In Athens where the temperature rarely drops to zero Celsius, many Greeks wear scarves, coats and the women wooly tights until the temperature returns to above 25C. Like in Britain, the people of Belarus have colder winters so seem much keener to get their summer clothes on earlier. The pretty women definitely dress to impress in Minsk.

We drove for about 30 minutes having to stop several times at lights. The traffic lights are modern and give warnings when they are about to change. My driver treated every such stop as though we were starting a grand prix and raced away every time.

We arrived at the office and I set up for my session. We had a good day, and again my driver weaved and accelerated his way back to the hotel. Some of the management team were to join me later for dinner.

We ate dinner in the hotel restaurant, supposedly Italian cuisine.

I looked at the drinks list which was very expensive for wine and beer. Looking at my hosts, I realized that I was in a vodka drinking country so I copied the locals. We had a great conversation and when they left I headed for bed, pausing to drink LOTS of water.

Early start next day, same expensive breakfast and the grand prix to the office. It was sunny again so once again people were out in their summer clothes.

The second day finished around 2 and by the time I had packed up it was close to 3pm. My contact presented me with a box of liqueur chocolates as a thank you. He said he had originally thought of vodka but saw I had no check in luggage. My driver weaved back to the hotel, I changed my clothes and some Euros and decided to see a little of Minsk. I walked around the streets near the hotel. They were mainly offices and there wasn’t much in terms of entertainment or bars. I eventually found a bar. I don’t speak any Russian and the lady serving had no English. I tried the Bulgarian word for beer and that did the trick. By giving her a large enough note she simply had to give me the change. My half litre cost about 1 Euro 25 cents. I sat outside and watched the world go by.

One thing that struck me was how prominent the police and military are in Minsk. I have been led to believe that Belarus has some similarities to the old Soviet way of doing things. Certainly there seemed to be many different forms of police and military, and from what I can see their demeanour towards ordinary citizens (and the deference they were shown in return), suggests that they are top dogs in Belarus.

Also noticeable was the rise of new money in the country. Most of the people I saw were reasonably dressed, but every now and then you’d see someone with money to burn. A flashy Audi convertible pulled up and double parked close to where I was sitting, music blaring. A woman, heavily made up, wearing a transparent blouse and clearly bra-less, tottered out of the car and proceeded as fast as her heels and sprayed on leather trousers would permit into the bank. The driver, thick set, mirror sunglasses, leather jacket got out of the car and smoked, daring anyone to challenge his inconsiderate position. I wonder what would have happened had the police been around.

I headed back to the hotel for some dinner. I tried to order some local red wine. The waitress refused to serve and said I should go for French or Italian. I didn’t want to do this, firstly because I always like to try the local stuff, and secondly because I sensed I was being pushed toward the very expensive stuff.
They came up with one glass of local wine initially. It was not awful but also not very good. I switched to vodka. When it became clear that they weren’t going to force me to pay over the odds for French wine, they mysteriously found another local bottle of red wine, but having switched I stayed with my choice.

I pack and am off to bed very early as I have a 2 am start. I am paranoid about oversleeping so arrange three different wake-ups.

I feel very tired when the various alarms go off, but I shower and shave and head down to reception to settle my bill. Given that the Belarus rouble is over 4000 to the Euro my bill is over 2 million.

My driver is there at 2.30 am and we drive through the empty streets to the airport in about 40 minutes. Again the city shows architecture in the grand style.

Airport security is very tight- we have to go through a scanner at the entrance before we check in.

Another security scan and I finally make it to the lounge and thence on to the plane. My body clock is disrupted so I sleep throughout the flight, landing in Vienna at just after 6 am.

Now I am really tired and am struggling to stay awake, but manage to do so until I board the plane.

My next memory is the bump as the plane touches in down in Athens. I have fallen asleep before take off and slept for the entire flight. The stewardess smiles and tells me I was the perfect customer- I gave her absolutely nothing to do.

I am still exhausted as the car drives me home. I have a couple of conference calls but am really exhausted by the disrupted sleep.

Overall Belarus struck me as far more Russian influenced than say Czech Republic or Poland. Another place I’d like the chance to explore more deeply.

Ukraine has been mounting a big tourism campaign in the UK recently, with the campaign line “Ukraine- all about U”.

Unfortunately no one has told their immigration service that it’s all about us. The passport control had only one lane for foreigners and I waited 90 minutes before an unsmiling border guard let me through.

A car was waiting for me and the driver gunned his engine down the freeway, taking a about 45 minutes from the airport. On route I was impressed by a spectacular bridge which spans the river which flows through the capital.

Instead of going to the hotel I was taken straight to a restaurant where two local colleagues were waiting. As I was much later than expected, owing to my unsmiling chums in immigration, they had had starters rather than starve, so I ordered a main course and we chatted. Later one of them took me back to the hotel.

I must say I was disappointed with the InterContinental in Kiev. It’s a typical chain hotel, but one thing that surprised me when the reservation was sent is that they bundle other things into the room rate. Hence my rate was 255 Euros a night but this was to include breakfast, WiFi and allegedly a free minibar. I was intrigued as to the how a free mini bar would work, but should have known better. Basically what they do is provide just a couple of bottles of beer and a couple of soft drinks, and that’s it.

Anyway I was tired and had a long day’s presenting so had an early night. Breakfast next day was rather poor and again poor value. Anyway my car was on time and we drove for about 45 minutes out of the city to the company offices. I set up my laptop for the session and we had an excellent day with the management team.

The day successfully completed, I went outside to the cab which was booked for me and got in the back.

We set off and I realized that the seat belts in the back did not work, so I managed somehow to communicate to the driver that I wanted to stop, and got into the front so I could buckle up. The driver seemed to resent this as a slur on his driving ability, ad immediately proceeded to turn on his music loud. I don’t really like disco and hip-hop in English, and I have to say the Ukrainian version does not improve matters. After an hour or so of crazy driving (so glad I buckled up) I arrived back at the hotel with an evening to myself.

I changed some money and went out for a wander.
My first port of call was a square just down from the hotel which has a church and what I understand was some sort of monastery. It was a riot of Orthodox ecclesiastical architecture, with cupolas galore, and beautifully painted- quite stunning in the sunshine.

Heading off towards the restaurant I had researched I looked out for a bar where maybe I could have a drink first. Just 100 metres after the hotel I found it- one of Kiev’s “Irish” bars. I descended down the stairs and went in. The staff spoke some English and I ordered a local beer. They had TVs all round the room but there was nothing of interest to watch. Back up to street level and off to the restaurant. I had researched this place from the web and was keen to go as it was described as being reminiscent of the Soviet era which lots of photos and memorabilia. It absolutely lived up to its billing.

The place itself was a rabbit warren of different rooms, each full of photos and artifacts from Soviet times. It was fascinating just to sit there. The menu wasn’t cheap but wasn’t exorbitant and I ordered a hearty meal. Overall it was a great experience only marred by the fact that the restaurant had in house musicians who played deafening folk music to anyone who would encourage them. They must have sensed my hostility and stayed well away.

Back to the hotel and another early night, encouraged by the fact that the hotel’s TV system was down so there was nothing to watch in the hotel

The next day was Good Friday, a public holiday in Greece though not in Ukraine. My car for the airport was due at 10.15. I wasn’t hugely thrilled when my doorbell rang at 7.45. I trudged over to the door to discover a chambermaid who was very put out by my selfish desire to sleep, when my room was on her schedule for cleaning at that time. I got rid of her, but it was no use- no chance of going back to sleep so I got up. Breakfast again was poor, and having checked out I went for a walk. I was looking for a coffee somewhere but the only place that seemed to be open was the Irish pub, and I wasn’t going in there at 9am.

Back to the hotel and my driver attempted the world land speed record to the airport.

Back home at 5, and after a quick cup of tea my wife, son and I set off for central Athens to make the most of the rest of the holiday.

Despite the glitches I enjoyed Kiev and will enjoy going back.

The hotel seemed a little isolated in the dark so I decided not to go out to eat. I unpacked and went down to the restaurant.

Although not cheap there was a good selection of food and I enjoyed my meal, followed by an early night.

Next morning I took a cab to the office. The driver spoke very halting English, so on a whim I tried him in German. To my surprise he spoke it quite well and we had a great conversation, prolonged by very heavy traffic.

A day at the office and back to the hotel. We agreed to meet in the bar for a drink prior to the bus to take us to dinner.

We sat with our drinks when a colleague said, “ok guys , this is where we get our Blackberries out, type and ignore each other.

So that’s what we did.

The bus arrived to take us to the restaurant. We had an average meal (with way above average prices) accompanied by musical entertainment by a guitarist who played US soft rock songs. Although his playing was good, he had obviously not seen the written lyrics of some of the songs. Many of the original US writers would not have recognised the words of the songs he was singing.

The next day we finished around 4 and I caught a cab in weak winter sunshine with my Italian colleague Laura to the airport. We checked in on the same flight to Frankfurt where we both had connecting flights. Our flight was delayed by 30 minutes which had Laura in a highly nervous state.

We landed at Frankfurt and I urged Laura to forget goodbyes and charge for her plane (I later learned she just made it).

Frankfurt airport was a mess. For some reason even though we remained air side, we have to go through security again. The lines were backed up and it took me more than an hour to get through, with a very long walk to the other end of the terminal

It’s amazing. According to my schedule I should have had a 2 and half hour gap between landing and my connecting flight. Thanks to the flight delay and Frankfurt airport’s skilful management, I arrived at the gate only 5 minutes before official boarding.

This is the downside of constant travel. These constant delays and inconveniences are very wearing.
I landed back in Athens in the small hours, glad to be back in 17 degrees Celsius.

This trip is good example of another frustrating aspect of business travel. I have technically been to Zagreb, but apart from forming a positive impression from the layout of the streets, I haven’t really seen anything of the place. It’s one of many places I have been to, but not really been to.

I’d like to visit for real one day.

Malpensa is the newer airport for Milan and is improbably far from the centre. Not wanting to pay 85 Euros, and having enough time, I caught the train (10 Euros) and took a cab to the office. First part of the session went well, and in the evening I caught the metro into the centre. I had booked my hotel (Hotel “Genius”) through a late booking site and it was suspiciously cheap. When I arrived I found out why. The rooms were very old and in particular the bathroom basically had a shower fitted with just a drain in the floor- no shower tray so when you took a shower you flooded the floor until it drained away. The bathroom also did not have obscure glass and the curtains didn’t cover the windows, so you were relying on the layers of grime on the glass to preserve your modesty.

Out for a wander to find somewhere to eat. I found a fairly unremarkable restaurant nearby and had a reasonable meal. It got to 10.30 and the restaurant seemed to be closing, but at this point the manager went to the door and helped a big guy in a wheelchair inside.

As the staff tidied up it a chess set was produced and the guy in the wheelchair was sat watching, soon joined by the manager.

I have always loved chess and used to play seriously, so I asked if I could watch. There is an immediate fraternity between chess players and I was immediately welcomed.

The first game was interesting. The restaurant manager played in a fairly classical style, but the guy in the wheelchair had a quirky, disruptive style and slowly undermined his position, winning with a combination.

They signaled that I should play him, though I had only intended to watch.

I play fairly classically too so was apprehensive that I might go the same way, but instead all went well and I soon built up a crushing attack. I was an instant celebrity as the wheel chair guy was clearly considered the champion, so I stayed on playing the manager, and several waiters. We wrapped up far too late and I wandered back to the hotel.

IN the morning I Metro back to the office and another session. In the evening I took the metro back to my hotel. Obviously there was no question about where I would eat. Back to the same place, where I was welcomed like an old friend and had a great meal.

I didn’t maintain my 100% record. Playing my friend in the wheelchair, I caused considerable consternation when I offered a draw in an ending where I had an extra pawn but we had bishops which controlled opposite coloured squares. I tried unsuccessfully to explain that it was a theoretical draw and not worth playing out, but they obviously thought I was wasteful.

Finally in the last game, I got a little careless, allowing the manager an opportunity to sacrifice a rook to blow apart my castled position and I resigned with mate inevitable.

As this was the last game on my last night this was diplomatically a smart move, but I have to say he outplayed me.

The next day and on to Sofia. I caught a cab from the hotel to Linate (the old airport)- they really are letting this run down. A scary period waiting for security. For some reason they had only one scanner operating and the wait was over an hour, to the accompaniment of a screaming match between passengers and the few security staff who were there.. In the end I persuaded a security guy that I would miss my flight if we carried on like this, and he sent me to the business class security.

The flight to Rome landed slightly late and we did not stop on a stand and had to wait for buses to the terminal. Although I had an hour between official landing and take off for my connection I had to make my way from one end of Rome Fiumicino airport to another, which uses up that time. I even had to catch a train part of the way. In the event the connection was tight and boarding well underway when I arrived at the gate.

The flight was uneventful apart from the extremely disinterested service- I’d forgotten how patchy Alitalia can be.

I landed in Sofia and had to wait. The office had booked me a transfer with the hotel shuttle. They want to make money so I had to wait 45 minutes so that the same bus could pick up a complete stranger coming in later. Sofia was deep in snow (I hate snow).

We finally arrived at the Hilton and I checked in. The walk from the bus to the hotel entrance was treacherous, so I was sure I was not going to leave the hotel that night.

Having unpacked I went down to the restaurant for a meal. The lady who served me was a delight- pretty, attentive and gracious. The food in these chain hotels is always expensive for what it is. I had something that’s allegedly a Bulgarian Christmas speciality- didn’t see what the fuss is about.

The next day and I’m attending a conference for the top 200 managers in our Bulgarian company. I was introduced to the General Manager, a very nice Greek guy.

The day was interesting although some of the sessions were in Bulgarian so I couldn’t follow (sometimes I sneaked out to do email). The hotel in which the conference was held was called hotel Moscow, and did a great impression of what I imagine a communist era hotel would be like. It was very tatty and run down. The food when they served lunch was disgusting stodge, but my colleagues descended like locusts and the food ran out.

End of day one and there was due to be a formal dinner in the same hotel. I went to a small bar area, and bought a beer for myself. Nikos, the GM, joined me again, and I bought him a beer as well. We had a long chat. Nikos is a Greek and his wife and six year old daughter live in Athens. He goes back every second weekend to see them.

Dinner again was fairly awful. I was chatting at the table when a very elegant young lady came and sat next to me and started studying my face earnestly. This is rather disconcerting so I asked politely if I could help her. She explained that she was the translator who would simultaneously translate me into Bulgarian, and that as preparation she wanted to tune in to my English. It really cramps your style when you know you are being watched that closely.

Anyway, dinner and speeches over, the floor was cleared so that dancing could begin. Thankfully I was driven home at this point after a quick skete across the car park to the car.

Friday morning and down to check out. I was amazed at reception- the guy looked at the computer and disappeared for a minute. He came back, gave me a small package and wished me a happy birthday. I have no idea how they knew. (The present was a Hilton key ring that fell apart after a week, but it’s the thought that counts…).

The day of my presentation. It’s quite difficult to present when half your audience is listening through headphones. You have to learn to pace yourself so that they can catch up through the interpreter. Also when you make a joke, there is a time lag between those who understand it in English, and the second wave who hear it in their language 5 seconds later.

My presentation was not helped by a power cut in the middle of my talk. It was quite spectacular as I had just clicked on a remote clicker to advance the slide when all the lights went out.

“That’s quite a remote control you have there” shouted Nikos from the front row.

Anyway after 10 minutes or so power was restored and I finished my talk.

Suddenly the lights went don, loud music struck up. My colleague Anna started addressing the audience in Bulgarian. They broke out into applause and I realized she had told them that today was my birthday. My colleagues from HR marched in with a lighted birthday cakes and gifts which they presented to me. I arranged for the cake to be sliced and we shared it with the delegates- I was a popular guy.

Among the gifts was a nice bottle of wine ina presentation box. This was a problem for me.

I don’t like checking bags in so have a pilot bag which I use for travel. I can get 5 days clothes plus my laptop plus papers but there is no extra room. A bottle of wine has to be checked in. I had to rearrange. I didn’t want to check my laptop so I had to remove my laundry bag, pack the wine and put my laptop into the dirty laundry.

Conference over and I was driven to the airport by the most miserable of taxi drivers. I have yes to see Sofia in sunshine, and the frozen streets and grey skies did not lift the mood.

We arrived at the airport without incident. I was too early to check my bag in so bought a beer at a bar waiting for the check in desk to open. My phone rang several times with calls. Finally the check in desk opened and I went through security to the business lounge.

Sofia only has only business lounge which is used by all airlines.

One feature of it is that for a (fairly exorbitant) fee you can buy your way in even if you don’t qualify. I noted that for future reference.

Eventually the display said the flight was calling so I wandered down to the gate. Evidently this was a ruse to make sure we all went there, as we waited another 45 minutes before anything happened, and the flight was already considerably late.

It was a miserable flight with poor service from the Olympic staff. My bag was slow off the carousel. My car was waiting but by the time I got back to my apartment it was after 10pm. My plan to celebrate my birthday at Stavros’s was dashed- I was too tired to bother.

So I celebrated my birthday by heating a frozen pizza.

Judging by the taste I think it was manufactured by the hotel Moscow in Sofia.

Is this what they call jet-setting?

A fairly basic meal but hearty and I was ready to walk back to the hotel. Retracing my steps to the Radisson my way was temporarily blocked by a lady who spoke something in Romanian. I didn’t understand her and wasn’t sure if she was talking to me so made to walk around her and continue my journey home. She then switched to English and I realized that she was in fact offering her professional services for the evening. I explained that I was married and didn’t do that sort of thing and she seemed to accept this. I returned to the hotel without further incident.

The following morning my dear friend Simona collected me and drove me to the office. Bucharest traffic is fairly crazy and a combination of road construction and wet weather made it a long journey. I had a meeting with the country management team, and then delivered my session which went well.

Driven back to the hotel and met Simona again for dinner. We walked to the restaurant where we were joined by an English colleague and his wife. Richard has been in Romania about 10 months and I was amazed by the amount of Romanian he had acquired.

We walked back from the restaurant and parted as they found their cars. I was heading back to the hotel bat passed a sports bar where there was a match showing and thought it would be more interesting to watch some soccer than sit alone in my hotel room.

I went in to watch. I was in luck. This was the famous Real Madrid- Barcelona game which Barca won 5-0 and played the most incredible football. I was captivated for the whole game.

Match over I set off back to the hotel. As I left the bar, a group of young men surrounded me and started begging for money. I was very wary of them as they were also weaving around me and I was of the view that they were seeking a pickpocketing opportunity. I kept walking and another figure stepped out of the darkness- different street but the lady from the night before. She repeated her offer and I repeated my reply. Her response took me aback.

“It’s nothing to do with your wife. Tell me the truth. You don’t think I’m attractive do you?”

I’ve never been in the position of having to boost the ego of such a person so I tried to explain as I kept walking that my wife was very important to me . It must have been a strange sight, a middle aged man wandering down the street with a woman asking for pscholigical reassurance and a gang of pickpockets buzzing around him.

My progress was stopped with the lights being against me, much to my chagrin. My lady friend tried a new tack. “we don’t have to do anything, we could just talk” she said and tried to massage my shoulders. I had recently fractured a shoulder so this was extremely painful and I winced. “There- you prove you do not find me attractive” she said- you can’t even bear me to touch you”. I was saved by the lights changing and made the last 200 metres pursued by my swirling entourage.

Like the fairy story, the Pied Pier of Hamelin, the piper goes through a door which closes behind him leaving a child who cannot get through. My entourage would not have lasted 10 seconds with hotel security and they faded away. It’s the first time I have been glad to walk into a Radisson.

Again the flight was full of colleagues. Many of them were heading to somewhere like Serbia, so were having to fly west to Vienna and get two more connecting flights east in order to arrive about midnight.

My flight was uneventful and direct, and I was rapidly taken in the taxi to the hotel where I would sleep and where the training would happen. The taxi driver seemed to use a very circuitous route, and I was worried about having to negotiate on the fare, but I was proved wrong and we pitched up at the hotel with the fare at 38 Euros, which is pretty average for Vienna airport to the centre. The temperature difference from Athens was from 30 degrees down to six, so I wasn’t hanging about outside.

The hotel Triest (in German it means “step”) is a trendy boutique hotel in the city centre, and if I recall rightly from the brochure, Sir Terence Conran was involved in the interior design. I’m sure marketers would define it as modern and minimalist, I just hated it. I don’t want to stay in a magazine photo, I just want to be comfortable.

My co-presenter Markus arrived and we set up the room and agreed the game plan for the next day. Markus lives in Vienna and is a great advocate for the city. After we had finished we drove to a restaurant, very typical of the Viennese. Many restaurants in Vienna don’t take credit cards, the deal is that the food is relatively plentiful and reasonably inexpensive, but cash is king.

The restaurant had generous portions which we washed down with the restaurant’s own brew.

Markus was insistent on giving me a quick tour of the main sights by car. To be honest I wasn’t that keen but agreed out of politeness. I’m glad I did as Markus talked with authority and delight about the history, and it was great to get a sense of the broad avenues and imposing architecture.

Delivered back at my hotel, I decided to go to a bar I had seen close by which advertised football. On entering it was clear that it was heavily frequented by people from English speaking countries who live in Vienna.

I watched Manchester United win a Champions League game, alternating between that and watching a poisonous ongoing argument between the man and lady who were serving in the bar.

A lady sat next to me was writing assiduously in a book and at one point I glanced to see what she was writing about. To my surprise, I saw that she was actually writing down what was happening around her. Maybe she has written about me in her blog, who knows?

Game over I went back to the hotel to sleep.

Up early and into the restaurant for breakfast. Despite my reservation about the décor, the breakfast buffet was excellent. The training went well, and the lunch buffet was a good as breakfast (at the Triest I say forget the décor and enjoy the food).

In the evening Markus had arranged a group dinner, but before that I had a piece of work I had to finish and send. This took longer than expected, so in the end when I was finished it was not worth the ride to join the others.

I set off to find a small restaurant nearby, and found an Italian restaurant that would do the trick. I went in; the place was fairly empty.

I greeted the waiter in Italian, and was greeted back in German in a tone that said “we don’t do anything fancy like speak Italian here.”

Anyway the meal was good, and the waiter even became quite friendly as the meal progressed.

Walking back I popped in to see who was playing in Europe that night. They were showing an Arsenal match. As I have said before, if it’s against foreign opposition I’ll even support Arsenal. In fairness, they played that night with the speed and flair that makes them breathtaking to watch when they are on song, and it was a pleasure to see.

Back to the hotel and a good night’s sleep.

Second day of the training and another good session. When we broke for lunch we had just helped themselves from the buffet when we were joined by another party staying in the hotel. From their German I would guess that they were from Austria. These guys and girls really knew about devastating a buffet and within minutes of arrival it looked like Pharaoh’s Egypt after the locusts.

I had to leave early afternoon as I had two flights to get home. A Turkish colleague came in the taxi to the airport as she too had an early flight. She recognised that the driver was Turkish so that was me out of the conversation all the way to the airport.

The short flight to Munich was fine, with a longish wait for the Athens flight, exacerbated by the fact it was late again (will LH 3392 ever be on time?).

Overall an enjoyable and useful trip. I can’t claim to have seen any excitement in Vienna, but it was a pleasant stay in one of my favourite European cities.

Later on that evening I set out in search of food. Walking down a side street near the hotel I found very close an “English” pub (I think it was called the John Bull) which I thought I would stop by for a drink. Going inside and ordering a beer I discovered that they had European Champions’ League soccer on- I think Manchester United were playing.

In European games my patriotism takes over from club rivalries- I will even support Arsenal against foreign teams (given the number of foreign players in the Arsenal team this could be argued to be a somewhat misplaced patriotism). Anyway the Brits won and I had a hearty meal (not the most haute cuisine I have ever eaten but tasty and plentiful).

The match over I walked back to the hotel.

I should mention at this juncture that due tripping on a pavement in Athens just before this journey, I had fractured my shoulder blade, and based on medical advice was carry my left arm in a sling to take the weight off my shoulder. I was just close to the hotel when I was accosted by- let’s call her a “professional lady”- who tried to strike up conversation. I’m probably naïve and lacking imagination, but I was thinking “Lady, with my arm in a sling I don’t think I’m likely to get up to much mischief with anyone, even if I wanted to”. If you are thinking yes I am naïve and feel like explaining why, please don’t, I’d rather stay as I am.

Anyway diplomacy won out and I politely declined her generous offer.

A good day of meetings at the office and then a cab back to the hotel. I called in at the same place intending to find a better restaurant later, but the TV was about to show Spurs playing against FC Twente. As a Spurs fan there was only one option.

The game was great with several incidents, a sending off, several dubious penalty decisions, and most importantly , a four to one win for my team. Yayyyy!

The game over, I walk the hundred or so metres back to the hotel. This time there are three ladies of that ilk, and all seem to think that my arm is no barrier to business. Again I politely decline.

The following morning I take a cab to the airport hotel where I am due to give a presentation. I meet the meeting organiser, a Hungarian guy called Barnabasz (or Barna for short). It’s great to meet genuinely nice people and Barna is one of the gentlest and sunniest people I have met. The day goes well, and features a very bizarre buffet lunch in terms of the odd mix of choices. As I leave for the airport Barna tries to give me a bottle of spirits, but I am not checking my bag in and it will be confiscated by airport security, so he promises to keep it for another time.

The hotel shuttle takes me to the airport, and I have a marathon journey. Again I have to connect via Munich, and again the Munich flight is late. Boarding the connection flight at Munich I realize how much our company relies on this Lufthansa flight- if it ever crashes we are almost guaranteed to lose some senior managers. I ask the stewardess to help me get my bag into the overhead locker and she tells me to do it myself. I show her the sling (is it invisible?) and she is mortified and apologises endlessly for the flight duration

We arrive in Athens in the small hours, and after a much truncated sleep, into the office for another day.

A long day of meetings with new colleagues, one of whom, a Polish guy called Piotr, had the best BBC English accent I have ever heard. The day over we took a taxi back to the hotel and I complimented Piotr on his accent. When I pad the driver Piotr in turn complimented my German.

We had some time before dinner, so I took a stroll around the area close to the hotel. It was a beautiful warm evening and I stopped at a small café for a cool drink. It was great to sit out in the sun and watch the world go by. Looking up from my book I saw a lady who obviously worked in the kitchen of the café. She had come out to get rid of some waste food and at the instant I looked up she was bent down scraping it into a bin. Because of the heat she was wearing only a baggy T shirt, and I saw a lot more of her than was meant to. Back to the hotel to get a cab to the restaurant. Piotr and I met up with the others at a restaurant in a park. This time the taxi driver complimented my German- I’m on form today. We met with two colleagues, one a Polish colleague called Irmina. She had ordered a salad, and when it came complained, as she had a ordered a vegetarian version and they had brought one with bits of meat. The waiter suggested that she just put the meat pieces to one side. Irmina rightfully wanted one with no meat to remove. It all went badly wrong when instead of bringing a fresh salad they went back to the kitchen and tried to pick out the meat themselves. It’s almost a law of physic cs that you will inevitably miss a piece and sure enough, when it came back the meat that got away was only too evident. This dampened the experience for all of us so we paid up and left.

The next day another cab driver who claimed that his meter wasn’t working. I was in a hurry so didn’t argue. When I arrived I offered him the same fare I had paid both ways yesterday, and he trierd to claim it was five Euros more plus a tip. I really hate being ripped off in this way so refused point blank to pay more, showing him the receipts from the previous day. In bad grace he gave up.

The second night dinner with a colleague, this time in a trendy restaurant close to the Hilton. I wasn’t that impressed by the menu (or the exorbitant prices) so defaulted to Wiener Schnitzel (has to be done).

Back to the hotel ,and I decided another stroll would be in order. I walked all around the area, and called in at a snug bar for a nightcap.

This was definitely a locals bar and off the beaten track. I did struggle to follow their German as they spoke a highly local dialect. However this is one of the joys of traveling. Although I struggled to communicate, they were delighted at my efforts. Immediately they started producing plates of sausage, bread and cheese, and were actually slightly offended that I didn’t eat more despite my protestations that I had already eaten dinner.

I had to call time as they opened a bottle of schnapps on the house- I had to be compos mentis for work next day.

My final day and this time the taxi driver was honest. A useful morning and then a colleague drove me to the local subsidiary where I met the team. Their office is rather in need of renovation. That day in Vienna the temperature was 35C and the air conditioning wasn’t coping. A sweaty afternoon ensued, and it was nice to get into an air-conditioned car for the ride to the airport.

One final twist. When I arrived the driver insisted on seeing me to the check in desk, and was mystified that there was no flight showing. On further investigation it transpired that my assistant who booked the flights, had translated 19.00 and put it in my schedule as 5pm. I was facing a long wait to even check in.

I have to say that Vienna airport is not the most interesting of places to kill four hours, even when you try to work. Anyway when I finally got a way, we returned uneventfully to Athens. One thing about Austrian airlines- they have a corporate livery that includes a bright shade of red which the airline inflicts on the cabin crew. The service wasn’t bad, but you have to admire their courage to walk around dressed like that.

Armed with the cash, we headed off to take a cab. The drive to the Kempinski Hotel was a drab affair with a heavy drizzle over the city. It will be interesting to see Sofia in the sunshine one day, but it seemed a fairly miserable place. Our driver was also a morose guy who hadn’t spent long in charm school. Having said that, he drove us for 35 minutes to earn a 5 Euro fare.

Check in at the hotel was slow, as the hotel broke one of my cardinal rules. I always think that one way to incense people waiting at check in, when you only have a limited number of people to process them, is to have plenty of other staff standing around who appear to be doing nothing. The Kempinski did this in style with 2 check in staff and 4 onlookers (who occasionally interrupted them). I hated the place before I even got to my room.

The rooms were ok, in the plastic way that most 4 star hotel rooms are.

I determined to get out of the hotel at the first opportunity. Having hung up my clothes I set off to explore. The first thing I learned is that the hotel isn’t particularly near anything, and I wandered around in vain trying to find a bar or a decent restaurant. I also discovered that I had failed to bring my reading glasses, which would make any menu a no-no.

I headed back to the hotel to retrieve them. There apparently was some big government visitor or visitors at the hotel, and this became immediately obvious, as the car park was filled with large black Mercedes saloons, and the hotel entrance with burly bodyguards.

I mused that maybe this is what the Bulgarian secret police may have looked like (maybe do look like for all I know).

I had to wait 20 minutes for an elevator because there are not enough to cope with the level of guests in the hotel.

Glasses retrieved I walked across the street to the one restaurant that was close to the hotel. One of my colleagues said it was good, but I like to have a choice. I went in to find the place pretty empty. The waiters spoke good English and I spent some time studying the menu. Although I’m sure it was fairly expensive by local standards it was fairly cheap if you live in Euroland.

It seems to me that the cuisine has similarities to Romania with a very heavy emphasis on meat. Having said that the food was good and I also enjoyed watching English soccer which they showed on the TV, staying on after my meal to watch the end of the game.

Back to the hotel, and the secret police had decamped with presumably their quarry, and I went to bed.

The following day I was to be delivering a training, so found my way to the room we had booked. The room is in a conference centre which adjoins the hotel. It was cramped and dingy, and most of all absolutely FREEZING. I went out to complain to the manager, and came back to do my prep.

The morning session was fairly shambolic. It seemed that the heating depended on some electrical panel which was located in our room, so periodically and without warning, a flustered engineer barged into the room unannounced. He could see that I was annoyed at the interruptions, but repeatedly gave me the shrug which I guess is Bulgarian for “What else can I do”. I would have been more forgiving if his fumblings had had any impact on the temperature- we shivered in our coats.

The whole conference centre was hired by our company, with multiple meetings and trainings going on simultaneously. Coffee and lunch breaks were a mess as the hotel catering could not cope with the numbers, particularly the buffets running out of food before large numbers of people had eaten anything. When more was brought it was often tepid and ill-prepared. I really hate this hotel.

In the evening the course delegates took a cab to a restaurant. This one was even more upmarket (with prices to match). I’ve heard of the slow food movement- this was obviously the product of the snail-paced food movement. It was a long wait.
In the cab back the cab driver tried to negotiate his tip. I don’t like this on principle, but when we are talking a fare 5 Euros instead of 4, I decided I’d miss a few Bulgarian Lev less than he would.

The next day at lunch time I was collected by a colleague and taken from the hotel to the office, where I had a great meeting with the local HR team. They were bright and very demanding and I worked hard that afternoon. However we hit it off and I had won dome new friends. A colleague drove me through the rain to the airport, where once again the flight was full of colleagues.

I want to return to Sofia when the sun is shining. I don’t think I have seen the best of it.

One of the things I didn’t factor in when I considered the move is that I didn’t realize how much difference it would make to traveling on business. From London many destinations can be reached by a single flight and there are often several flights every day.

In Athens it’s different. As it’s a less popular destination, getting to many destinations often involves two flights, often including a counterintuitive flight going away from your destination, to get to a hub airport where you can connect.

This was such a trip. I arrived at Athens airport to board a flight to Munich. This proved to be uneventful and I landed on time. I didn’t have much time to make the connection, not helped by the fact that we were forced to go out through passport control and back in through security again.

I made it to the gate and we bused to our plane. My first flight with LOT, the Polish airline. We arrived at a grim looking plane with propellers. I had a brief argument with a hostess. Although my carry on bag was quite legal and meets the carry on regulations, she was trying to force me to put it in the hold. I wasn’t prepared to do this with my laptop, but when I got on the plane I found out why- the overhead storage areas were tiny.

My seat was supposedly business class. From what I can see this meant that I had a different colour piece of paper over the headrest- seat and service were the same in all parts of the plane (but hey, my headrest was blue instead of red- wahoo). The food was disgusting and the wine rancid. Otherwise it was a great flight.

We landed an hour late and I caught a cab to the hotel. I quickly learned about a problem in my forward planning. In moving into my apartment in Athens in August I had packed no winter clothes as these are irrelevant when it’s 35 Celsius every day. I had forgotten that I would be traveling to less hospitable places. The wind was howling and the rain of biblical proportions. I had neither coat nor a sweater so was jolly cold. I arrived at the hotel close to midnight and straight to bed.

Two very useful days in meeting and a memorable dinner in a trendy Polish restaurant.

The ride back to the hotel after dinner was terrifying. We had crammed four of us into a taxi. I was sitting in the middle of the back row, and because none of the seat belts worked, was not belted in. On the way to the restaurant this had not been a big problem- owing to traffic congestion we had crawled to the restaurant. However later in the evening, with little traffic, the driver decided to do his Formula one impression. The taxi was very quiet until we arrived at the hotel, and the passengers in the back heaved a collective sigh of relief when we finally got out alive.

The real fun started when we set off to go home. We were advised to allow an hour to get to the airport, which turned out to be conservative. Our hosts had explained that we had to get out today, as the airport would be closed for the weekend for resurfacing of the runway. If we didn’t get out tonight we would either have to fly from Lodz or stay until Monday. Needless to say were nervous about times. To make matters more complicated, some genius had had the idea “If we are digging up the airport, why not dig up the road to it as well?”

The last two kilometers took 40 minutes as four lanes narrowed down to one. I arrived at the check in desk and came through to the lounge. Entering and seeing how full it was I had the foresight to grab the last seat available. As the lounge filled to the point where movement was impossible due to the crush of bodies this proved to be wise.

I went to the guy at the desk. “How late is the plane?” I asked.

“It’s on time, you can read the departure board” he replied as though I was faintly stupid.

“Yes I can read it, and it tells me you are going to call this flight, board 100+ people and take off in six minutes from now. Have I got that right?”

“Ok, maybe it’s running a little late”. 20 minutes later he announced that it would be 45 minutes late. In fact it was an hour and a half late, and confirmed LOT’s status as worst airline I have flown with. It was late, the service and offering was grim. Truly horrible.

We landed late in Germany, with the airport virtually deserted, my connection long departed. I found Lufthansa customer service who were very good. They had arranged a room at an airport hotel across the sky bridge including an allowance for dinner and breakfast.

I checked in and went down to the restaurant for dinner, but my heart wasn’t in it and I left my meal half eaten and gave up. I didn’t know if I could get a flight back tomorrow.

I spent an hour informing tomorrow’s meetings that I would have to reschedule as I was stranded.

The following morning I go back to the airport to try and get a flight. By accepting a downgrade I was able to get a seat on the second flight back to Athens, my day in shreds.

Ah, the glamour of business travel.