Of course, despite the fact that we got into Montreal a little earlier than scheduled and through customs and baggage claim pretty quickly, it was still 20 hours or so since we’d woken up before we had a chance to hit the oblivion of bed.
And there I was awake again at 5am (or somewhere around there, eyes a bit too fuzzy to be exactly sure what numerals the luminous hands were pointing too) And the thing is I still wanted to sleep, another 2 hours beckoned me, but some small part of my brain or bio-rhythym’s or some such was saying otherwise.
And my head wasn’t even full of anything, no worries, no plans or anticipation of the day ahead, but alas also no sleep!
So I finally gave up the unequal battle at around 6 and settled for coffee instead. Not great coffee, not good coffee, not even passable coffee, just hot, wet, dark brown and flavourless, such as is served in all the worst hotels the world over.
And give the Hilton credit, there is a whole clever little Cuisinart coffee machine in the room, and it has a water reservoir and individual foil sealed Lavazza coffee portions (it even smelt like real coffee at this stage) but after brewing and dispensing directly into two Lavazza branded mugs all the special things that make coffee so good had miraculously absented themselves!!
Luckily the coffee served at breakfast and between sessions appears to have retained it’s relationship with the bean after which it is named – and praise be for that, it might be the only thing stopping those 20 hours and the missing 2 from catching up with me in this afternoon’s sessions