Asparagus, Whisky & their Friends

It's certainly been an interesting week.  First of all, may I express the hope that all my readers had a Happy Easter (whatever that term might mean for you).  Aside from the religious observation, mine was a good one on the home front, for two reasons at least.  Firstly, during the break I managed to complete the transcription of a lecture that was started well before Christmas, and had stuck there on my desktop begging unsuccessfully for my further attention.  Secondly, came the family history research (that I've mentioned here more than once) following a link from my cousin in Seattle just before Christmas, which I brought to a conclusion over the holiday weekend, enabling me to send off some reports to her.

On Bank Holiday Monday, I had planned a football trip to Suffolk to watch my native Diss Town play a mid-table team in what could have been a critical 'get-out-of-relegation-trouble' match.  Midway through the morning I had a call from the office, noting that I had said that I might be available for work if required, and instead of my supporter's scarf I donned my courier uniform, to take some asparagus samples to the office of a well-known supermarket in Bradford.  I think I was fortunate to miss the match, which I later learned resulted in a 3-1 defeat, after being ahead by their one goal at half-time!

Tuesday saw a return to the more usual level of work, with just a trip to Northampton, and afterwards I began the intense phase of planning for my holiday, noting what I want to see, what can be planned with what else, when attractions are open, and so on.  Later I went to the office for my weekly paperwork session, and was handed details of a job which took up the whole of the next day.  One of our customers is in the interesting business of promoting the blending of whisky, by means of sponsored evening gatherings of afficionados.  Like other advertising events, we service these by taking appropriate materials to the venue one day, and collecting them the following day to return to the organiser.

St Cyprian's Church, Edge
Hill, Liverpool

Wednesday's job, therefore, was to take whisky and associated equipment to a bar in the centre of Liverpool, only five minutes' walk from the famous Cavern Club.  It's some while since I've been to the centre of the city, and the drive in along the A5047 has been dramatically uplifted visually in recent months.  New houses and a bright and eye-catching health centre now replace row upon row of empty, boarded-up terraces.  I was intrigued to find that the impressive Victorian church of St Cyprian remains standing in the middle of this flattened landscape. Research tells me that it is Grade II listed, was de-consecrated in 2006, and is likely to be redeveloped in conjunction with student accommodation.
 
Productivity-wise, Tuesday's solo had been a bit of a let-down, but Thursday, satisfactory of itself with three reasonable local jobs, had gone some way to restoring the benefit of a 'bonus' bank holiday assignment.  I was feeling a little smug, with a clear desk and the challenge of finding something worthwhile to occupy the rest of the evening when, at about 7.45 pm, the phone rang.  "I've got an interesting job here <pause>" is usually an accurate but demanding introduction, and this was no exception.  It consisted of collecting what was described as 'five noses' (but which actually looked like any other metal fabrication loosely packed in a cardboard box) from a factory on the outskirts of Leicester, and then delivering these to an address near Coventry at 7.30 the next morning.  Given the relative distances, and the lateness of the hour, regular readers will not be surprised that I decided against undertaking the two middle legs of this four-part assignment.

At 10.00pm, with a confidence born only of authority, I entered the darkened factory in Wigston and made my way through the dimly-lit building to the sound of machinery at the far end.  Eventually I discovered two men who were 'machine-minding', although the casual observer could have been forgiven for thinking he had interrupted a tea-break.  One of them, clearly expecting me, led the way to the afore-mentioned cardboard box, collected my signature on the accompanying document, and carried it out to my van.  I then drove the 31 miles to the destination, found a convenient car park right opposite the gate, and attempted the second challenge - sleep.

After my cold and only partially successful bid for success in this endeavour, the dawn revealed the fact that there were in fact three factories on this site, and by 7.30 two of them were showing signs of activity - but not the one I was interested in.  They don't start until 8.0, and both they and I were puzzled at my instruction to be there half-an-hour earlier than that.  The delivery made, I gladly took my leave and sought fuel for both body and vehicle, before heading home.

By late morning, refreshed in body and spirit, I was about to ring in with these tidings, when an incoming call sent me on the first of a sequence of four jobs, to Swavesey, near Cambridge.  The second was to a pharmacy in Tottenham, not far from the Spurs' ground, and the other two were both to Broomfield Hospital in Chelmsford - a smart and efficient place that involved quite a bit of walking to get from one requisite department to the other.  Suffice to say that I was glad to get home, and slept well this morning!