Review of a non-life, part I

I'd promised myself I'd never mention anything about what I do for a living in this blog. But the key thing about my life these days is that I have none. Or rather, that it is too inextricably linked with work. Where to begin, where to begin.

I could start by all the chapters I skipped this year... The G8, at Heiligendamm, maybe. Let's see... A quick copy/paste and a few snapshots should do it:

June 6th:
"I arrived at the G8 location. Plane to Hamburg, then train to Rostock, where I had to get off, because all tracks to Bad Doberan - last location before Heiligendamm, where the meetings are taking place - were blocked by the protesters with branches and trees. They did the same with all the principal roads.


They are incredibly organized, but so is the police. It's so militarized around here, I can't begin to tell you how weirded out the locals are. They'd never received so much attention.

After an 80-euro cab ride (the detours are enormous), I arrived at my destination. The location is unbelievably gorgeous. Heiligendamm is part of a series of spa towns on the Baltic Sea coast, all of which became famous at the end of the 19th century when some king made it fashionable to summer here, where the views are breathtaking and the weather unpredictable.


Because all the hotels were booked, I had to find myself a guest house, located about 1.5km away from the centre where I work.

My transport means is a bike. A huge group of protesters disguised as a clowns was arrested right in front of where I'm staying, as I was on my way back to the center. I cycled on a dirt road through fields of cereals to get here. It's so surreal.


Oh, and I'm drinking Africola. This is coca cola from Africa. You know. To show they'll keep their Gleneagles promises about canceling the African debt."

June 7th:
"This is like the war. I'm being controlled at every corner, me on my bike. After dinner, as I was heading home, I took the gravel path across the fields. 2 barrages of polizei made me stop to inspect me last night and one this morning. Light on my face, identifying myself "accreditation, passport, ja ja, letter from landlady, I am staying there, danke, guten nacht und good luck..." Very nice guys in combat costume, holding my bike while I rummage through my bag trying to find the requested documents...

And all the while, above my head as I'm pedaling myself home, helicopters with lights checking the fields. On the ground, it's all i can do to avoid frogs and toads. which by the way, are really loud animals. I even saw a rabbit.

Today, Bono is giving a concert in Rostock, about 22 km away from here. We're going with the camera. I hate this Bono b'stard."

June 8th:

"I'm back for the last report on the G8 summit. Tech guy is unplugging all computers, we're all about to leave.


Nothing major today. The 8 leaders didn't do so good on the help for Africa, pissing off my friend Bono and a few other more capable, credible people. Putin mocked Bush and Bush dissed Putin, all very politely. Sarkozy's role was pretty much limited to announcing Bush's diarrhea to the media after the meeting he had with him this morning. And all in all, Merkel did good.

I was up at 5h45, riding down my footpath at 6h30, spent my day running around... And so I finished with a stroll on the beach, dipped my feet in the freezing cold Baltic Sea as the sun set behind a wooden pier. All idyllic, except maybe for the food. Food is crap here, and that's an understatement.

I'ma bike my ass home now. I'll be on my way tomorrow. To Brussels."