Shortening the Long Night

 

Pret a Manger on Piccidilly, London

Everyone travels differently.

Some want 24/7 action and adventure.

Me? I have to listen to my body and I often don't (such as Wednesday at St. Paul's Cathedral).

I listened last night.

Whilst (very English of me, I know) standing in the wonderful Plumber's Arms pub, I heard my body tell me to stop. Let the boys be the boys. 

This isn't some kind of commentary on my age (though it probably is) but more of knowing when to say "when."

So, I did. I was in bed just after midnight.

I like experiencing all kinds of hours when I travel. I like getting a sense of local things.

Thus, this morning, I get my backside out of bed, pulled myself together, and took a short walk. On the hunt for something for "brekky," I knew where a nearby Pret a Manger was. The thing to know about Pret is that it was where I had my first, er, meal in the UK back in 1998. They've since come to New York and elsewhere in the States (there's one in a rest area in New Jersey!).

I grabbed my bacon and egg "take away" sandwich with my Americano coffee and hoofed it back to the hotel, which is where I am now.

Committing to continuing this "Project 365" insanity means writing whenever I have a moment and, often, not quite coherently, though I've tried.

Knowing last night was celebratory following the conference, I took my pre-written post from yesterday morning and, while sitting in the hotel bar with my colleagues, uploaded it on my phone.

Sad, innit?

So here I am while my friends sleep and I prepare for the day ahead.

Oh, I should add that the reviews of the conference seemed to be superb. I gave you a glimpse behind the scenes yesterday and won't reveal too much more. As a team, we excelled, and I'm proud to be a part of that. I found the room to be wonderfully respectful and very reserved.

Again, British.

But, in talking with people following, I heard very kind comments that mean so much.

As is well-known, I'm not the most outgoing, despite my ability to moderate conferences and so on. Thus, when at the Plumber's Arms, my colleagues were surprised to see me talking to a table of locals enjoying their evening. What happened was that I noticed they were toasting their night and, I raised my glass from a few paces away with a smile.

They liked it, so I stepped over and clinked glasses with them, chatting with a couple -- the girl originally from Glasgow, Scotland -- who wanted to know who these strange guys were and why we were there.

Very kind and very brief.

And, assuming I don't have time to write more later, I will close for now, prepared for another day of walking and pain.

And knowing when to stop.