Atherstone

Another meeting all morning; then I set out on a train journey to Nottingham, which seems to be equally inconvenient wherever one starts from. When I got to the hotel it seemed OK, but when I descended later in the hope of getting some dinner I exited the lift into a maelstrom of shrieking teenagers in ball-gowns (the females anyway) - apparently it was a prom. I hid in a corner of the bar for an hour until there was a table free in the dining area. Eventually a couple more colleagues arrived and we hid in another corner with a drink.

Earlier, the first train I was on stopped at stations that are normally whizzed through at 100 mph. I was very pleased to see this one - the little town of Atherstone is where, in 1841, my great-great-grandfather was living with his wife and two young children, working as a journeyman carpenter. I must pay a proper visit sometime.