Tuesday, 14 April 2015

A very long day in Cambridge

25 February 2015

Mr Davies is up bright and early, hoping his remote-controlled inflatable fish has arrived.  While we are waiting, we visit another firm of CIPA members.  Then we return to the Cambridge CPD seminar.  This has been billed as a Smörgåsbord of short talks on a range of IP-related topics.  Inevitably, the speakers are incapable of sticking to their time slots, and so it is more of an all-you-can-eat buffet of normal-length talks.

Happy hour follows.  I am not very happy because there is no gin and tonic, only some sparkling wine stuff which makes you feel like you’ve been sneezing vinegar.  On an empty stomach, two glasses is enough to render your mouth more articulate than your brain, but I fail to notice this vital clue and carry on talking anyway.

There is some posh food.  The pudding is a giant profiterole, the size of a bagel, or perhaps it is a Yorkshire pudding and I have mis-sequenced the courses in some way.  I am still talking, only now I am talking with my mouth full.

The giant profiterole is followed by an orienteering trip round the streets of Cambridge, via a number of most welcoming hostelries, which ends up back where we started.  Whilst we are away someone puts the clocks forward.  3 am comes and goes.  There is a game of Pictionary and a kebab, in that order.  I do not know why.  I find I am still talking.  In fact, there are now only three of us talking, and one of them has a mouthful of kebab. 

I was supposed to be writing a speech tonight after the posh dinner.  I realise this is not going to happen when I find myself setting my alarm for a time that is already nearly an hour ago. 


26 February 2015

I do four “meet-the-members” visits.  I wonder how obvious it is that I am not actually conscious.  Mr Lampert joins me for the first two, after which he loses interest in pretending to be conscious and heads for home.

Luckily, wherever I go, the Biscuit Pixies have been there first, and this is what sustains me through the long day.  For one meeting the Pixies have delivered pink wafery party biscuits, which apparently I was talking about in some detail in the pub last night.  This really is magical.  I cannot remember the last time someone listened to me in a pub and then actually went and did something about it afterwards.   

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