Water way to spend your first day of marriage
Less than two weeks publishing the new edition of Development and Flood Risk Newsletter, for the Birmingham office of Drivers Jonas, Matthew Williams found himself in a troublesome paradox.
Having just penned his report urging companies to take a proactive approach to flood risk, ever cautious Matthew found himself and new wife Roslyn’s wedding party had lost a few key people on the journey between the service at Stannington church and wedding reception in Morpeth.
It transpired that Matthew’s parents-in-law and brother-in-law, plus other guests living in the picturesque part of Northumberland, had been forced to abandon the celebrations and race home amid fears their houses were about to flood, as torrential rain deluged the river Wansbeck.
And flood they did. Some 200 families were affected with water levels reaching just below the ground floor ceiling. Nightmare.
Roslyn’s parents were trapped upstairs until the following day, missing the entire wedding reception.
And so, Matthew and Roslyn spent their first day of married life unromantically donning Wellington boots and sweeping out water and silt alongside family and friends, before jetting off to their honeymoon in the Maldives.
“Getting married was a big enough event in our lives without a last minute emergency,” said Matthew, aged 29. “The irony of the situation certainly wasn’t lost on myself or my colleagues.”
Still, all’s well that end’s well.
And certainly a day for all sorts of reasons they will never forget.
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Awaydays in business speak are supposed to be high powered get-togethers of top business executives or sales teams, lots of brain storming, strategy sessions, corporate bonding …
But at commercial property firm Stoford they prefer an old fashioned knees-up – swapping building for bowling on an office outing to Sheffield.
Buoyed up by recent deals, the Birmingham developer shut up shop for 24 hours for the company’s first-ever team break – a loose term given the number of Stoford parties Bright has attended in the past.
After checking into their hotel, the 20-strong group headed for the Hollywood Bowl to test their skills at knocking down the pins.
Organiser Matt Burgin led the winning team that also included Tony Nash, Mick Palmer, Julie Robinson and Dom Stokes.
“The competition was keenly contested – although I have to add that I’ve never seen so much cheating in my life,” he said.
But Matt’s promise of a ‘hot’ evening ahead didn’t start quite as planned when the party took their seats at Champs Restaurant.
“When the chicken wings arrived, they were so hot we burned our fingers and had to soak them in our beers,” he said. The poor dears!
But Stoford’s staff kept up their spirits at local nightspots before retiring to their rooms in the early hours.
“There wasn’t much conversation on the train back to Birmingham the next day as we all tried to catch up on lost sleep,” groaned the Chief Wimp. Sheffield today; surely Sydney tomorrow. They wish!
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Oh dear, problems for Post scribe John Cranage heading off from Birmingham to cover the Paris Motor Show.
A Flybe jaunt from Terminal Two, and our man is far more familiar with Terminal One.
Anyway, all is going well.
He checks in, heads off to change some money, goes through security and enters the departure lounge.
Couldn’t be easier.
Except when he looks at the departure board for the 1.30 pm flight to Paris there is nothing there.
At which point it dawns that just perhaps … he could be …in the wrong departure lounge.
All sorts of doors have to be unlocked to extricate the big boy. And then he has to go through security yet another time.
“I must have been the most secure passenger flying that day,” he quips.
And when he eventually lands back in Brum he gets hit for a £36 parking bill.
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I find myself at the monthly Birmingham Press Club bash where accountant Tony Taylor and publican Tony Ashby are comparing grizzled fingers.
Ashby somehow caught his in a car door while Taylor managed to jam his in a sash window. I didn’t know sash windows existed any more.
But then Taylor is very old. Still, I was privileged to see him consume his first pint since July – the lad has been poorly with hepatitis E.
And no sign of the dodgy finger impinging on his tankard control. So now there will be no stopping him.
No doubt Ashby needs a boost in takings.
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A tale of two transport horror shows. Lisa Kennedy, Barclays regional PR, has a new one even by the railways dismal standards.
Stranded at Hampton in Arden. Why?
Because, according to the information put out, the “codings” – whatever they are – were all screwed up and it meant train drivers didn’t know what station to stop at. Beats leaves on the line any day.
Anyway, the poor dear was eventually rescued by partner John Lamb.
Fellow PR James Manning of Metropolis 2 got it even worse.
On a two week family holiday to Florida hen the airline XL went down.
At least he had a bit of sun because the collapse didn’t happen until the day they were due to fly home.
Stranded at Sanford Airport, near Orlando.
And, goodness knows what Les Dawson would have made of it, because the mother in law was along too!
The normal mayhem, with officials not wanting to know.
But eventually Richard Branson came to the rescue and, after a mad taxi dash from Sanford to the main Orlando International, they managed to get out the same day.
What would we do without the saintly Sir Virgin?
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I fear grandeur has gone to the heads of ‘celebrity’ couple John and Valerie Nolan.
Lord and Lady Muck were recently spotted being driven in a coach and four around London to the cheers of adoring tourists.
It seems the Birmingham business partners had been invited on to a Coaching Club outing – gentry types in top hat and tails who parade through the capital every year.
Naturally it all starts from Buckingham Palace– Prince Philip is an enthusiast – and they shut off all the roads to traffic.
Procession down Hyde Park and the Mall.
“There were crowds watching – people were running to take photographs. It was amazing,” said Valerie. “They thought we were someone; little did they know we were actually nobody.”
No, you do yourself an injustice, Valerie.
Milk it while you can, I say.
After all, most people would give a lot to be Posh and Becks for a day.
Just don’t try it on at Moseley Rugby Club though.
And I know John that mutual chum John James occasionally refers to you as Lord Nolan … but it’s a joke.
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