For those of us who went back to work yesterday, it was something of a shock to the system. All that sunshine and chocolate and then, bang, you’re back to train cancellations, photocopiers out of toner, and the burdens of the working day.
Spare a thought, then, for our managing director, who’s just returned from a fortnight’s skiing in Canada. He was back in the office yesterday in a jet-lagged state, yawning his head off and complaining of hot flushes (this may be something to do with his age, but we’ll let that pass).
He had, however, some interesting observations to make about his re-entry to the capital. He was impressed with how spruce the centre of London looked in adavance of Friday’s wedding, and was surprised how many people he’d met were excited by the joining together in holy matrimony of Mr Windsor and Miss Middleton.
We, sitting in our offices with a lifetime’s cynicism behind us, may not be the best judges of the national mood. But even from this vantage point, there is no doubt that the wedding, together with yesterday’s rush for tickets for the London Olympics, has given a lot of people cause for cheerful nationalistic pride.
There are certainly some impressive displays of flags here in London, but I idly wonder how this fervour would compare with the build-up to, say, a World Cup semi-final between England and Brazil. There is also the suggestion that there is a north-south divide in wedding fever, and that outside the capital and its immediate environs, they won’t pay much attention until Friday morning.
Let me know what you think about this theory. Meanwhile, the MD, in his modest way, said that he was sure I’d find better things to write about than his aperçus (my word, not his), but, as you can see, I couldn’t! Roll on Friday!