Sunday 13th July 2014 (part 2)

Thursday.

I awoke to my last morning in Denmark for what, four days? And the sun shone in through the curtains. I sprang out of bed, had a shower and got ready for the day ahead. Packed the case, went down to the reception, checked out, packed the car and went for breakfast before heading out onto O2 braving the rush hour traffic.

Only it being holiday season, the traffic was a shadow of its normal self. I went into the office, and started working away, trying to get a week's worth of work done in half a day, or as best as I can. The office was more than half deserted as many have already headed off to the sunshine on annual vacation, leaving the rest of us to guess what the plan is.

Anyway, it got to half one, I feel in control, which is always nice, and decide to head to the airport early, and if the traffic allows, I might head back to Jelling for a look at the chalk wall paintings in the church. So, I walk to the car, inside it is like a greenhouse with the temperature reading 31 degrees. I open both windows and head off past the old head office and onto the motorway and head south.

I have plenty of time, so I cruise along at 100 kph, which is just pleasant enough. And very stress-free too. I head off at j57, along to the start of the motorway, before turning off to Jelling. It is a 10km run into the village, I know it well now, and so without fuss i am parked outside the supermarket, getting the camera out the back and heading past the shops and the burial mound to the church.

I am the only one inside, so i get the shots before heading back outside, I snap the runestones before looking up at the mound and thinking, I really should climb that. So I did. Happy with that, I climb back down again, head to the car and make for the airport.

Of course, with it being holiday season, Billund is packed, so I park up, head to the car hire place, drop the keys off and go to the self service machine to get my boarding pass. Next drop my new case off at the BA desk, head to security, and there I am. With over two hours to kill.

I look up at the gastrobar, and see many seats for a change, so I head up, order a large Hoegaarden and chat with my mate Pav who is about to emigrate to Canada. Pav is the barman, but we always chat if he is on duty, it won't be the same without him, but he has hopes and dreams of a new life in the even more frozen north. Good luck, mate.

At ten to five, I make my way to the gate ready for boarding. I bump into my friend Gary who is working on another project for us, and we swap news. He is about to move to darkest Kent in Broadstairs, so we will be travelling back on the same trains soon if we bump into each other again.

Onto the plane, and once loaded we taxi off. It comes as a surprise to hear the pilot say it is cold and raining in London, not the 31 degrees it is here, last chance to get off! all was clear as we flew down over Denmark and then over Holland and over the North Sea. But then the clouds rolled in beneath us. And as we neared the coast the clouds towered before us, meaning it would be a damp and bumpy final approach for us.

we were just a few hundred yards above ground when the ground came into view. I recognise it as Chatham, and the River Medway. Quickly the plane bans round to north and we head to the Thames and our final approach. The Dartford Crossing is heaving, the bridge jammed with traffic.

Down and down we go, until gravity takes us the final few feet onto the runway, and we're home. Or nearly there anyway. We have to wait an age for a slot, then for the bags to be unloaded and a bus to take us to the terminal. But once there, we get through immigration quickly, my case is waiting, and I'm on my way to the station. I see I probably won't make the five to seven train, but the quarterpast will be easy.

In the end I even have time to head to the coffee shop in Stratford for a coffee and a cold sausage roll before I head down to the platform ready for the train to whisk me home. Not only is the train not full, but I get a seat by a wndow, on the right side for me, and facing forward. And off we go, whilst somewhere behind me, a party is underway as some people crack open a bottle of wine and start some tuneless singing.

Outside, the rain falls heavier and heavier. It is still pouring as we pull into dover. Jools is waiting and so I make a dash for the car, dump the new case in the back, my work bag on the back seat and myself into the passenger seat. Done, nearly home now.

We head upto St Maggies, along flooded roads, Connaught hill turning into a river as the water runs down it. Once inside I ask, where's the cats, and turns out they're all asleep upstairs. In time MOlly comes down to see wha the noise is, and turns out it is I, returned.

She does make a fuss, and accepts being picked up, fussed over and her fur being ruffled. Time enough for a huge cup of tea, a scotch egg before its time for the day to end.

Friday.

I decide to work from home, get my mails written and the meetings done, then maybe head out in the afternoon if the weather allowed. In the end the weather did not allow and the rain continues all day, and being generally grey and damp. Yuk. I am told it is still 31 degrees in Esbjerg.

Part of the way through the day, as i was in an important meeting on the communicator, Mulder brings in a mouse. Alive. And drops it at my feet, the mouse runs under the open suitcase on the floor. Mulder then spends half an hour jumping over the case over and over again, in the hope of chasing the mouse out. The mouse is nowhere to be seen. Later, I pick up the case, closing both sides and see the mouse just sitting there. I grab it before it realises it, and take it outside, letting it scamper for the undergrowth, it gets to live another day.

I get work done by one, so switch the works computer off, make some dinner and settle on the sofa ready for some serious wittertainmant. Just like old days, let the weekend begin.

I pick Jools up at half four, we head home and have a coffee, and a slice of Limoncello and Grappa tart that i had managed to rustle up inbetween meetings in the morning. How clever I am. It is wonderful with a pot of fresh coffee.