h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hard tack is a kind of crisp bread. Most of the stuff we get is indeed of a rye variety. It's crispy like a cracker.

Knakkebrot. So called because by the time you've finshed chewing it...you're knakkered.

Bum! On the one hand, my Scandiwegian trip is fast approaching. And it looks like my time in Denmark is being extended so I can visit someone in Elsinore...so I'll have a paid night in Copenhagen. On the other hand...I'll likely have a colleague in tow. Perfectly decent guy - but I wouldn't feel *quite* confident about dragging him to Christiana. Probably just as well if I have to talk intelligibly the next day.

I like some hard tack, smeared with (soy) "cream cheese" and with sliced tomato and lemon pepper (thanks to Sho for turning me on to the lemon pepper).

Trips to Christiana wouldn't be on my itinerary, either, as my company has A Policy about certain things I understand are among the highlights of a visit there.

They don't test, do they?

Pre-employment, in the event of injury on the job, and if/when one's job performance warrants it. Alcohol testing if one is suspected of reporting to work while under the influence (though I have been to department lunches and company functions where it's allowed).

I should add that the policy doesn't concern me much, as I'm not fond enough of anything they'd be testing for, alcohol included, for it to affect me much. And I don't typically drink at company functions- I like to keep my wits about me Just In Case.

We took a Uni trip to Copenhagen - which included a trip to Christiania at the profs' insistence!

We went there to look at the houses they built for themselves; it was meant to be a demonstration of "how people build when there are no rules".

The weirdest business thing that's ever happened to me was after a day of meetings in Amsterdam.

We got taken out for dinner in the evening and I, being a silly thing, dressed up slightly. Nothing too fancy, just some nice trousers and high heel, well, stilettos.

I wasn't planning on the sightseeing trip in the Red Light district to be a feature of the evenings entertainments, NOR had I calculated on the bloody cobblestones in there which did not work wonders with my high heels.

So there I am, at 1 am on a Thursday night, tottering around in my high heels, on the arm of my male & single boss, checking out the scenery. I.e. the girls.

It was the boss' arm that really made it - he was being gentlemanly and all, but I was less interested in the girls than he was, so where I'd have sneaked a peak and legged it, he was perusing and looking properly.

Ah yes...what a certain Mr Lydon called 'a cheap holiday in other peoples' misery'.

It may be a moot point. The Danish leg is up in the air () again now. My company likes to discourage initiative, so I my be compelled to work on an existing project that day, instead of using the travel opportunity to schmooze a new customer who may well throw new business our way.

'em, then. I'll book it as a day's holiday and not go see the guy.