Blog: Sam Hillas

By Ben Schofield on Feb 22, 10 11:24 AM

Sam Hillas.jpg

It's been a LONG time since my last blog.

Rather than apologise, I should explain this: if the purpose of this blog is to bring to life (by use of "amusing" anecdotes and other "witty" occurrences) the daily trials and tribulations of a typical North West family lawyer then a more regular update would result in all family lawyers being shot by the boring police.

The daily grind of wake up/go to work/come home/do more work may be fascinating to my mother (who requires her own twice daily updates) but you should try wringing 250 words out of it.

Add to that the fact that I can't name names (clients may sue, judges would be beastly and colleagues would fall out with me) and trust me, you would also struggle.

Have just returned from Ireland. Beautifully sexy hotel, stunning scenery and the company of 200 lawyers intent on discussing the finer aspects of family law.

Yes, dear readers (hi mum!) as you can probably guess, it was a show stopper.

Privileged this year to be not just a delegate, but a speaker no less, you can only imagine the hours of planning that went into it.

Ignore the fact that I had to prepare (and then present) a paper capable of entertaining some very high brow colleagues: how on earth could I manage to pack three changes of civvies and evening wear into the pathetic 15kgs allowed by Ryanair?

Thankfully (as it probably weighs 14.5kgs alone) the Angelina Jolie nude chiffon gown so remarked upon in previous blogs remains as elusive as ever so I was able to collate a much more modest wardrobe to take on my Irish travels.

But still, the various online tips to packing light are useless when travelling when the cheeky chappy O'Leary's favourite airline.

I tried to pack properly, I really did. As ever, however much I plan for these things, the format is always familiar. Step one: ram everything I might possibly need into suitcase and weigh on bathroom scales. Step two: sigh, take out a pair of knickers and re-weigh. Step three: cross fingers that bathroom scales are wrong on basis they're for people and not suitcases which are so rammed they cannot stand on their own four pegs and travel to airport. Step four: unpack suitcase when ordered to do so and stuff as much as you can in your handbag whilst ignoring insults from the 200 people in the queue behind you. Step five: hand over ridiculous amount of euros to excess baggage just for the privilege of taking more than one pair of tights. Step six: drink heavily and remain deadly calm whilst vowing never to fly Ryanair again (note, this costs about €17,000 on board and the booze comes in plastic bags).

Am happy to report that the conference itself was much more successful.

So successful in fact that I can remember little of it and am having to rely on Facebook photos to fill in the gaps.

Sam Hillas (right) singing in Dublin.jpg

Attached to this blog is one such reminder, featuring me (of course) and the beautiful Rebecca Gregg doing our bit for international relations.

Yes, that is us singing. Picture the scene: typically '"Oirish" pub shushed into silence whilst all sorts of Celtic beauties bring tears to the eyes of the rapt audience with tuneful laments about girls dying/moving through fairs etc.

It probably explains why the bloke in the background (an elf? Gerry Adams?) appears to have cut out his own eyes whilst simultaneously laughing uproariously as Greggy and I took to the floor with our own particular "contribution".

And if I look short, blame Mr O'Leary. You can't quite squeeze knickers, tights AND high heels into 15kgs.

Roll on Edinburgh 2011.

* Sam Hillas is a family barrister at Atltantic Chambers