Up early by my standards, but the maintenance guy came to look at the water heater while I was eating breakfast in my dressing-gown. Shooed him away, I hope gently; finished packing and tidying up; took out the trash but did not run the dishwasher because the hot-water tank was about to be drained. To work by bus, where I spent the morning printing papers and making sure my laptop's protection was up-to-date. In the early afternoon, to the Tucson airport with two colleagues, four others travelling in an another car. Sat scribbling on pink and blue index cards for a while at the gate. By Regional Jet to LAX, partaking of orange juice and cheese-flavoured crackers shaped like fat, friendly planes; briskly on foot to a gate on the other side of the terminal, with minutes to spare. By 757 to San Francisco, with a glimpse of neon-red sunset on the left, partaking of orange juice and miniature pretzels. On foot to baggage claim; then up four escalators and by train to the rental car terminal, finding the train's voice rather lugubrious compared to the chirpy underground version at DIA. By car to the Palo Alto Super 8. Dined at Chef Chu's, then back to the motel.
And here I am, watching CSI:Miami and accessing the internet on the hotel broadband.
I may have misjudged the reading material: I finished Issola at the weekend, and The Winter Oak on the first leg of today's trip. That leaves me with most of The Language of Power for the next three days and the trip back, which may be enough if I don't go mad reading it at night. I might find Crossing the Line in the Stanford bookstore, though, or something interesting at Know Knew Books.
And here I am, watching CSI:Miami and accessing the internet on the hotel broadband.
I may have misjudged the reading material: I finished Issola at the weekend, and The Winter Oak on the first leg of today's trip. That leaves me with most of The Language of Power for the next three days and the trip back, which may be enough if I don't go mad reading it at night. I might find Crossing the Line in the Stanford bookstore, though, or something interesting at Know Knew Books.
