Yours truly was in Koln talking to the directors of a large American company. 23 of them. All square jawed, identical and for all I know interchangeable. The sort of wild night where my grey suit marked me out as a rebel amidst the corporate American blue. In pre-dinner small talk I looked out of the window across the Rhine to the cathedral. The Chairman seemed less than interested when I pointed out that the hotel, and the ugly Lufthansa data processing centre next door, were built on the site of a Roman fortress. Davitia - the home of the XXII legion and at one time civilisations farthest outpost. From the monosylabic response I gathered this was not my best conversational gambit. Perhaps we were still deep in barbarian territory.
Day ten. This gentle, shared journey can still generate gales of laughter. He's sleeping longer in the mornings now and do we detect the first hints of confusion ?