My Eureka Moment
On the 9th of December 2010, nearly 5000 staff at the OEM tech centre where I was working got snowed in. It was total gridlock and utter mayhem.
Not in the mood to participate in the newfound solidarity and comradeship of my fellow 'stricken' workers as they queued up for their evening company subsidised “bifteck et frites”, like Pavlov's drooling dogs, and certainly not wanting to sleep at my desk, or work the next day with ripe unwashed fragrant Frenchmen, I decided to walk the 14km home.
It was full moon and the grey-blue light reflecting off the perfectly even snow made visibility easy. It was eerily quiet, not a car engine to be heard.
The only sounds were those of crunching feet in fresh snow, the sound of birds chirping and of children laughing.
I walked the same route that I had driven daily for the last seven years. I saw things that I had never seen before from behind the wheel of my stylish tin-box; little side streets, cute houses, parks and greenery.
Until then I had never realised that there was anything on this road except the daily scene of moribund 1960's high street architecture.
When I crossed paths with other walkers, they were courteous and smiled.
I stopped on the way for a quick meal at my local Indian restaurant that kept me warm and in good company.
Sure my feet were wet and my shoes ruined when I got home, but guess what?
I walked the 14km in less time than driving home on an average Friday evening.
It felt great.