We have heating. Dancing and gnashing of teeth ensued after this discovery. Since July, the BBC's central heating system has been destined to a skip. That was fine during July and August when the days were long and the temperature benign. As the skip floweth over we rejoiced that come September the office would be toasty. Yet come October, a casual observer of Network Radio Bristol would have thought they had stumbled into a Nanook of the North convention for bewildered producers. Wrapped in swaddling layers, mufflers and finger-less gloves, we soldiered on manfully as limbs were lost to frostbite. Anyway around 11am this morning there was a gushing noise. Checking the waistband I concluded it wasn't me. Grinding followed swooshing and despite thoughts we'd entered a truly dreadful Caribbean Steel Band festival, suddenly it dawned upon us. Water was on the move. Pulsating through the Victorian pipes as if the hounds of hell were after it. I touched the fluted metal. Warm, like a new born spaniel on a winters day across an un-socked foot. I took off my hat, muffler and for the first time in 6 weeks, my coat...I could type without incumbency. Sad though that the BBC installed room heater will now be destined to no longer provide life support. Personally I liked the fact the room was cold. I liked the frostbite effect on the egg-whisking over heating fingers. But I have to say not wearing a muffler and seven layers indoors has its advantages.
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