Off the plane, on the bus to Sophia Antipolis to collect the car and after a delicious lunch at the local PMU (a betting shop with an excellent chef) it was time to head to the beach.
7am and it was my old nemesis, the Gatwick Express. My fourth visit to Gatwick in the past couple of weeks and I’ve renamed it The Gatwick Snail.
After a week of phone calls, a few tears of frustration, patience and rueful humour, I have finally made progress with the IRS.
After a year of suffering from sleep deprivation due to space deprivation, we finally broke down tonight and bought a bed.
Two days, four trade shows, a vegetarian restaurant in a city of carnivores, a torrential thunderstorm and the world cup semi final against Brazil which Germany won 7-1.
It was an insane couple of days where I got up at 3:30am and went to bed at midnight and then followed that with another twelve hour day. Needless to say I was exhausted by the time I made it back to Chalk Farm.
Berlin looked like an interesting city and one I’d like to go back to. I caught glimpses of monuments, drove past the Brandenburg Gate and sensed that Berlin would be worth returning to. If I’d had another day, it would have been perfect.
But it was a work trip and work I did.
Where to next week?
I had a nasty surprise as it appeared the IRS (the US Internal Revenue Service) had decided to clean out my bank account without telling me. Is that even legal? No warning, no letter, no notification.
I have diligently filed US taxes for twenty years and was told I didn’t owe anything for the past two years as there is a reciprocal agreement with the UK. I pay 40% tax on my UK income so that seemed like the least they could do.
On another note, I received a letter from HM Customs and Revenue today stating that I have been undertaxed by £300 and that will be deducted from my account.
How is this fair?
I’m now thinking of going on benefits and living in a council house.
I left work with the intention of going to an exercise class. The intention was good. Stepping outside the air conditioned office, I discovered it was hot, a lovely balmy evening in London. Was I really going to exercise?
I walked in the direction of the gym… stopped, debated and then turned around. I decided a better option was to join a few colleagues at a nearby bar for a drink.
Call it team bonding, I might have felt better this morning if I’d made it to the gym!
After several meals which had failed to impress, we were determined to discover good food in Florence.