Our room at the Liverpool Hilton has a great view over the Albert Dock, this morning accompanied by a lively soundtrack as the wind beats down the Mersey. This wind has no name. No storm here even if it sounds like it. The IoMSPCo says its 13:45 sailing from the Port of Heysham is still scheduled to go. We have a large cabin with a balcony which I can’t see us using.
Bicycles and scooters roll by. Runners run. Not much pedestrian action really. One or two people walking to work in the dock. Buses draw to a halt at the lights but suddenly pick up speed as they change from red to green. Ripples on the surface of the dock. Merchant navy flag flaps stiffly. Eight ey em.
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Nice enough breakfast at the Hilton. Good coffee, which isn’t usual, and good freshly baked sourdough. We went for a corner table in the window and only realised our mistake when the loud American woman on the next table opened her mouth. Corporate bollocks. I immediately regretted sitting there but on reflection decided you could hear her from anywhere in the breakfast room. It’s just that we were sat in Ground Zero! Fortunately her softly spoken local companion excused herself to go to “set up the meeting”. The American was left with no target for her utterings and shut the f*** up. Now back in room waiting for a meeting to start. We don’t really call them conference calls any more do we?