President's blog

My blog is again overdue - a bit like the No.39 bus. By way of explanation I have to admit that dinner invitations have been rather lacking until very recently. My meeting over dinner with the distinguished Lords and MPs of the All Party Parliamentary Group on Insurance was followed by invitations to the Business Interruption Dinner, the CII Annual Dinner and the CII Croydon Dinner and all within a week!

For urgent business reasons and surrounded by lawyers, accountants, solicitors, and bankers in Reading I was obliged to miss the Annual BI Dinner (many apologies again to Ann Stone). Also on that night a well known past CILA President missed the last of a flight of steps and missed the dinner too, although in dinner jacket and gong he easily won the vote for the best dressed person in the local casualty department. The other two dinners, the first at the elaborate Guildhall, and the second at the Selsdon Park Hotel (famed for usually hosting one of the teams taking part in the FA Cup Final) went off without incident. The Mayor of Croydon was in attendance as a top table guest and I was somewhat alarmed to hear the value of the chain of office which dates from the early 1800’s. With all those insurance people around any loss would be hard to explain away.

Paula and I are now preparing for our trip to India and we have had virtually all injections known to man and woman. I think our only risk not accounted for is swamp fever. Not only that, but daughter Georgina is in the process of buying her first flat. This involves little effort since “Dad that’s your sort of thing, isn’t it – I love you” as she disappears out for the evening. Kids are great aren’t they? She has, however, had sufficient time to list all the items in our home that she thinks we could well do without. Minimalism seems to be in for Paula and I in future.

I am writing this on the train from Bolton on the day after the predicted severe storm which failed to produce much for adjusters! I am now getting back to the CILA response to floods, the Pitt Review. What joy!