As it turned out, the flight to Frankfurt was on time and so I had only a small amount of time in the duty-free shop. The purchase of duty-frees is something I have never been sure about, but there it is. My manager had asked whether I should take any, and a rather officious chap at the other end had said don't bother. A man I met on the flight who also had business near Munich expressed surprise that anyone would ever turn away free, or at least cut-price goods. I did take some anyway, and they seemed gratefully received.

Mind you, it was only good fortune that meant they were received at all. After clearing customs and immigration at Frankfurt, and meeting up with the consultant again, I suddenly realised that I had left my precious bag of booze and ciggies by the X-ray machine. It was only quite a short dash back there. The X-ray machine operator didn't seem at all surprised to see me - he just handed back the bag of goodies without a word. I suppose he does it every day. Probably every hour.

After a brisk walk back up the terminal to catch the onward flight, there I was waiting for a domestic flight. I had never considered domestic flights at all before, although in fairness domestic wasn't the main purpose for this one. Only a handful got off at Munich, the rest merely adjourning to the lounge before the flight continued to Thessalonica. Quite why so many Germans should want to conduct business in Thessalonica is still something of a mystery to me. However, there is no doubt that the vast majority of passengers on this flight were business travellers rather than tourists.

One feature of this flight is that there was very little in the way of in-flight service. In the lounge at Frankfurt there was a large rack containing polythene bags filled with sandwiches, cakes and the like. Everybody who looked as if they knew what they were doing seemed to be taking one, so I did the same. After all, I was unaccustomed to the ways of the Germans, and wouldn't want to do something wrong, like crossing the road when the light was on red, or failing to pick up a bag, whether it contained cigarettes or cakes.

The flight arrived at Munich on time, and so it was not long before I was in a taxi going to the Hauptbahnhof. The journey from Munich to Augsburg, just 62 kilometres, seemed insignificant after the excitement of the flights, but the guard didn't seem too much overwhelmed and charged me a surcharge of 6 DM for travelling on an Inter-City train. In those days, no surcharges were payable on any trains in the UK and my ticket would have been valid on any train. Ah, how things change!

The next shock was the difference in the time between Britain and Germany. I was relaxed in the knowledge that there was only one hour difference between home and away, but had not bargained for the fact that the Germans started work an hour earlier. Unfortunately, this meant that I had effectively I lost two hours per day, rather than just one. After work it was already dark, so I wandered up and down the streets of Augsburg, where I had been once as a child, wondering whether I was anywhere near where I had been then, or where the famous church with the oldest stained-glass in the world was to be found.

Both these questions remained unresolved, but I did manage to find McDonalds and notice that although the prices were higher than back home, the menu was virtually identical. I had a full meal back at the hotel, however, and that was very expensive too. Why should it be that every time I go abroad, the value of the pound is at a low? I wondered about this as I ate a very modest dinner, and again as I went off to sleep.