I'm stuck in a hotel on an industrial estate on the outskirts of Rotterdam. Unless Dutch TV comes up trumps this is looking like a barren night for me, the worst valentines in recent history.
The wife on the other hand has turned in early, she claims to be tired where I woke her up at 0530 to get my flight, and probably rates this as the best valentines night in recent memory due to the absence of inept rummagery taking place.
I did remember to get her a card though. Sadly, it's still on my desk at work.
Who says romance is dead?