The taxi honked its horn as I put on my shirt. I grabbed my computer and the suitcase and was out of the door in no time. It was early in the morning, and I had stupidly enough slept inn enough to almost lose the taxi to the airport where the plane to Nice wouldn't wait. Light traffic let us through to the airport in no time. Check-in was, as usual, a bit of a hassle. I breezed through security, thank god for Fast track, and got to the gate just as they started boarding. I've made it and was going to Nice for a week interesting meetings, and great french cuisine.

To tell you about me: My name is Alexander Jones. I am a 30-year-old computer tech in a company set up by me and three friends at university. We are actually doing quite good, and I'm off to France to secure our first international deal. I'm married, since September last year, to, you won’t believe this, Alexandra.

Arriving in Nice the luggage, as always, took forever. I got a cab to the hotel, checked in, got out and enjoyed a lunch in the beautiful old town before my first meeting at three.