Friday 7th February 2014

Wednesday.

There are times when days at head office blend into one, especially as now they are just a series of meetings linked by gaps long enough to grab a coffee and fire of a shit-o-gram to whoever has messed up.

Each day begins with the groan that signifies that despite it being dark outside, it is time to get up. Then, down into the restaurant, grab some breakfast, whilst trying to be healthy. Heading out to the car park hoping that the windows do not need scraping, and then edging out onto the O2 ring road race track, hoping to be able to get into the left hand lane by the time I need to turn towards the office, counting one, then two to get the right junction before finally reaching head office.

and once in find I am usually second or third in, and so the day begins.

And some nine hours past and it is time to leave again. Only on this day I forfeited the chance to go bowling. Yes, bowling. After trying for 15 years to play in the RAF I realise that my arms and hands do not do as I tell them, only to make the ball head towards the gutter. But I do agree to meet them afterwards for a meal at Flammen. The reason for all these activities? Well, trying to make us all feel part of a team and to belatedly celebrate Christmas.

I'm not arguing.

So, I get a taxi into the centre of town, always an experience as we ignore all laws/driving signs to make it into the harbour area in one piece. Always nice. The going in, seeing the guys across the restaurant, and making my way over. A cold beer is waiting. And it is meat time! 15 different sorts to choose from, and a token amount of salad. But it is good, as is the banter.

I grab a lift with Jesper back to the hotel, having to try to attract the attention of the sleeping guard to get in through the sliding gate; all this to protect our cars from the locals.....

Thursday.

And in a break from the routine, I sleep through my alarm. Always an invigorating start to the day, really gets the blood pumping as you realise you have a meeting in 20 minutes!

Pack.

Clean teeth.

Stumble down the stairs as an elevator has broken.

Check out.

Load the car.

Decide to skip breakfast as there should be something laid on at work.

Drive into work in the driving rain.

Get into work with a couple of minutes to spare, power the computer up and away we go.

The meeting means I miss breakfast and there is one tiny slice of cake left at the end of the meeting.

Munch.

Munch.

I have to make a presentation to the Quality guys from our Japanese partner. We begin talking, and I end up taking over, drawing flow diagrams, going over system requirements and generally sounding like I know what I am talking about.

That takes me to another meeting, which lasts another two hours, and right to when it is time to leave for the airport. Apart from a couple of minutes panic when I can't find my phone as I had put it somewhere safe. I pack up the computer, head to the car and drive out of Arhus heading south towards Billund. Heavy traffic is not something I usually see, but Thursday the who drive down the E45 was a nightmare, heavy traffic in heavy rain. It was a relief to turn of at J57 and drive on some quiet roads towards the airport.

Now, it was three in the afternoon and I had not eaten in 18 hours: I was hungry. So, I leave the car in the lot, hand the keys over, check in, and get through security and go straight towards the cafe and order a burger. It is a gourmet burger, quite what makes it gourmet is beyond me, but is tastes like heaven to me, as does the half litre of Carls Special wash it down with.

The flight is called, and I head towards the gate, surprised to find it fully booked which is unusual on a Thursday. Once aboard, we find that the plane's computer is playing up. And to fix it they switch the whole plane off and back on again. It works! I sleep the whole flight, and wake up as the slip through the heavy clouds above Essex. We see nothing of the ground until we are a few hundred feet above the ground at Greenwich. Although there is little time to admire the view as the plane is buffeted by winds and it jerks about like a bronco.

It is a relief to be on the ground, and soon enough we are all in the queue for immigration. Shouldn't be being in the EU mean an end to all this?

A colleague of mine is coming over for the beer festival, so I have arranged to meet him at St Pancras. All I have to do is get there. Easier said than done when there is a tube strike on! But, I head the usual way to Stratford and catch a St Pancras bound high speed service, and am there by eight fifteen. I head to the pub where a pint of Guinness is waiting for me!

We have another pint before we walk back to the Southeastern platforms for the nine twelve train to Dover. We get a seat a ta table and both fall asleep. London, south essex and Kent al slip by outside the window as we head home.

It had been a long day.....