I got this email recently.

My hotel room door. The Lost in Translation Hilton (Shanghai).

It’s from my mate Dan Izbicki who was on a business trip to Prague and it got me a’thinking. Here it is:

“So I'm alone in Prague contemplating whether to go out for a solo meal or order room service. And I figure 'Andy is a man who'd know the right decision', having no doubt faced a similar scenario on occasion. Trouble is you're probably asleep.

Anyway I took the executive decision to go out for steak and chips (they do a mean steak and chips in Prague) and they got my table booking wrong by 1 hr. At least that what the stupid Czech bird said. Personally I think they gave my table away to 2 people for the extra cash. Bastards. So now I'm stuck in some sort of solo traveller netherworld. Do I wait or give up?  Stick or twist?

Needless to say I've retired to a bar to contemplate this decision. It's the smallest bar in the world and they only serve wine (ponces) and I'm the only person in it. Apart that is from the bar maid with whom I've tried to start up a conversation but with limited success. We seemed to run out of topics once I'd complimented her on the wine.

Anyway it seemed as good a reason as any to drop you a line. Hope life is treating you well. You must be back soon? Do those Chinese fellows allow skype these days?  Haven't noticed much Brittain onlineness of late. Your blog made me chuckle today.

Guess I'll read a chapter of my book. It's about WW2. I know! A real expansion of the horizons.

Dan”

Why did it get me a ‘thinking? Well for a start it’s funny, has the word “ponces” in it, includes swearing, says my blog made him laugh and it’s always good to hear from friends when you’re 3000 miles from home. But that’s not what sparked the Brittain grey matter out of its traditional weekend shutdown and into full…you know…thinking about stuff mode. No it wasn’t. It was the mental picture of the loneliness of the long distance advertising idiot (of which I am proud to consider myself one) that Dan so wonderfully evoked in his kind email.
Speaking from my own experience, and I’m sure it’s not the same for everyone, I find something exquisitely melancholy about business travel that if you're not careful you can start to enjoy. As elaborately coiffured American songster, John "Juicy" Mellencamp so loudly crooned it, “Hurts so good.” 

Why the words "if you're not careful?" I have no one else to ask this question of but myself, so I'll...you know.... have a go at answering it. I think, it's possible to get addicted to it. It's so keenly felt. I'm not saying you don't feel other things like happiness and sadness but compared to the cold, overwhelming blankness of a life lived, albeit temporarily, in a strange land, miles away from the ones you love, amongst people it's impossible to communicate with, they seem insignificant. 
Although it's not a pleasant feeling, it is at least a big feeling. It snaps you out of the hum drum, day to day crap of existing and cruelly reminds you that you are alive. 
I know that other events evoke this too but not many. Bereavement and teenage heartbreak are ones that I can think of but the "good" thing about this excruciating loneliness is that it affects no one else. No one has to die, no one has to hurt anyone. And the best thing is, it stops instantly. You meet up with your silly friends, they tell you about some reassuringly irrelevant nonsense they've thought of and your world  is once more back on it's stupid axis.
And that is why I think it's addictive. If you think I'm wrong then actually you're wrong and no returns.


Brittain out.