A cool breeze blows in through the crack where my door doesn’t quite shut prop­erly, promis­ing the Autumn ahead, but yet hang­ing on as long as it can to the sun­shine. Now and again heli­copter down­draft blows the door open and closed again, waft­ing in that thick, sweet, black smell of diesel.

I am in a ship­ping con­tainer miles from the sea, miles from just about any­thing of note bar my office and the occa­sional nuclear reac­tor. It may also be the world’s most well-powered con­tainer — I count seventy-nine sep­a­rate plug sock­ets for var­i­ous voltages.

In case it was not appar­ent from the last sen­tence I am very, very bored. For I am doing what one nor­mally does in ship­ping con­tain­ers: installing Netbeans.