Turkish Bill
Another day, another whistle-stop tour - this time Ankara.. which was nice as I usually only get to travel within Europe (yes, I know, Turkey is kind of in Europe, and yet not).
I was greeted at the airport by my driver, who I'll have to call 'Turkish Bill'. I can't remember what his real name was, and the surgeon running the training course had named him Turkish Bill, so it stuck in my head.
It turns out Turkish Bill was a retired surgeon from the Turkish Air Force and had spent some time in the 1980s on an exchange program at RAF Uxbridge in (kind of) West London, not far from where I live and (kind of) work.
If you tell most people that you're going to Stavanger, they will pull a face. You know the face I mean. The one that says "What the hell are you talking about?!".
This month I was lucky enough to be sent to Monaco. As usual, I had very little time to have a look around, but managed to get a few snaps while walking between the nice hotel hosting the conference and my digs.
Sitting at the side of a stage just in case a conference phone stops working is a little bit tedious. But I only had to do it for half an hour, so for once I got to see some of the city I was working in.