Sunningdale

I have today returned from a work mandated five-day residential training course. It was a general course for new lawyers to the department, covering all sorts of issues new lawyers are likely to face throughout their working careers.

The course ran each day from around 9 am through to 6 pm, followed by a talk at 6.30 pm and dinner at 7 pm. It was five days of being lectured to and participating in group activities. And yes, it was as boring as it sounds.

Unfortunately, I have discovered that the older I get, the less I am able to mask my boredom. In particular, I have recently developed an awful habit of falling asleep the moment I become bored by something. This rather middle-aged-like habit means I now have carefully to consider my likely interest in an activity before I commit to it, as I have in the past managed to embarrass myself by sleeping through movies, plays and even parties. Perhaps the worst occasion was once when, during a very dull day at work, I popped off to the loo, only to later wake as my forehead hit the metal toilet-roll holder. I then had a rather large red mark on my forehead, which was difficult to explain to my colleagues.

Staying awake during the course was, therefore, a struggle. Several times I nodded off for a moment before regaining consciousness. At one point, during a particularly boring lecture, I succumbed entirely and fell fast asleep, for perhaps ten minutes or so. I had a rather bizarre dream involving a juicy red apple that the lecturer was trying to steal from me and awoke with a start, beginning to shout out the words “not my apple!”. Thankfully I only managed to get the “no” part of that statement out, before fully waking myself up. I then managed to hide the word behind a feigned coughing fit.

The upside to the course was that it was held on rather lovely grounds in Sunningdale. The facilities consisted of a large university-like set-up, tailor-made for such courses, with function rooms, a dining area and halls of residence.

I have attended a few residential training courses in my time. It’s an odd experience, as all participants find themselves spending 24-hours a day with one another. In many ways, the social dynamics are like those of school. This was particularly so with this course, where all of us were strangers at the beginning of the course. Much like school, therefore, the first few days were full of awkward getting-to-know you conversation. The geeks and bores were not, at least initially, identifiable. There were therefore the inevitable awkward moments of finding oneself stuck in an indeterminable conversation with an excruciating bore, while looking longingly at other course participants, seemingly having far more interesting conversations punctuated by bursts of laughter.

By the third day, the participants naturally divided, into the like-to-banter-and-drink group (the cool kids); the far-too-serious-and-earnest group (the geeks); the I’m-much-older-than-the-majority-of-participants group (OAP group); and the very-nice-but-a-little-bit-boring group (the blandies). My level of alcohol consumption meant that I was a member of the cool kids’ group, helping to prop up the bar of an evening. I must stress that the title “cool kids” is a self-appointed one, as such titles inevitably are. It is more than likely the case that someone from the blandies is currently blogging, referring to the "cool kids" as the obnoxious-drunkards-who-aren't-in-the-least-bit-funny group.

Nonetheless, I'm going to stick with the title "cool kids". Admittedly, when talking of a bunch of lawyers on a training course, it's all relative, and it therefore doesn't take that much to fall into the cool group. Nonetheless, it's so rare that the word cool even comes close to my name, that I'm going to claim this one.

It was with a little bit of sadness that my train pulled into London today, and I realised that I had left Sunningdale, and the moniker "cool" behind. Instead, it's back to work, napping and toilet-roll indentations in my forehead. But at least I have the memories ...